Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Craig looked at the clock on his bedside table.  3:27 in the morning.  Who
the fuck could be ringing his doorbell at this hour?  He climbed out of bed
and quickly grabbed a pair of his briefs from the hamper, then wiped
himself down.  The undies were absolutely drenched--it was like his balls
could somehow generate more jizz whenever he huffed those awful poppers. 
He quickly slipped on a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts and ran down the
stairs.  Whoever was ringing the doorbell was frantic, and he didn't want
it to wake up Codey, who had to go to school in just a few hours.  "I'm
coming!" he yelled, then leaned up to the peephole to look out.  But when
he looked out, he only saw darkness.  That seemed odd.  He hoped it wasn't
dangerous, but he was a strong guy.  He could ward off anyone, right? 
Slowly he opened the door and peered out, but still saw no one.  Until he
looked down.  And there, shivering on his doormat, was a very familiar boy.
Reddish brown hair.  Freckles across his nose and cheekbones.  Incredibly
tiny and pale--like a ghost in the night.  Though this time he didn't have
jizz all over his face, Craig still recognized him from that shockingly
disgusting and incredibly arousing profile on the site.  The boy was even
smaller, paler, and cuter than his photos.  It was a cold night, and this
boy was simply not dressed for the weather.  He was only wearing a white
t-shirt with a blue airplane on it and a pair of bright red briefs that had
a matching blue plane right on the crotch.  Around the neck of the boy was
a tight, silver dog collar with a metal tag of the signature Pimpr insignia
dangling down over his invisible Adam's apple.  "Hiya!  You must be
con--confli--the guy from Pimpr, right?  I'm Seamus!  Can I come in and
suck your dick?  It's cold out here." "Jesus!" Craig said, quickly looking
around to make sure no one had heard what this little stranger had just
said.  "Come in, come in," Craig said, hoping none of his neighbors would
get a look at his house when there was a nearly naked little boy, shivering
with his lips blue, on his porch.  Also the kid looked really cold, and it
was the middle of the night--not safe for kids on the street.  It would be
much safer in his house.  The kid didn't resist at all, but rather barged
in, and Craig began to shut the door.  But just as he did, a big, meaty
hand, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed it and stopped him from pulling. 
The hand yanked it open, and there stood an adult man Craig had never seen
before.  The guy was big--Craig was tall and lean and toned, but this guy
was BUILT.  He clearly made good use of the gym.  It showed in his barrel
chest and thick thighs, which were on display in a pair of mesh shorts. 
His arms were bulging out of his tank top, and both his legs and his arms
were covered in hair that was brownish, but with a tinge of red.  "Well
hey, buddy.  So you're the man in the flesh." Craig just stared, unable to
say anything.  What was going on?  "Wow, nice house!" the boy said behind
him.  Craig turned, and soon saw the boy wasn't looking at the house at
all. His eyes had been fixed squarely on Craig's firm ass in his boxers,
and now they were zoned in on his crotch, even though there wasn't anything
to see besides his plaid boxers.  When he turned back to the door the other
man had let himself in.  "You look surprised.  You remember me?  We were
talking online?  Hey,--Seamus!" "Whoa!" Craig cried.  All of a sudden, the
little boy had launched himself across the room and now had his face buried
in Craig's crotch.  He was sniffing deeply, inhaling, and shouting.  "Wow!"
he said, his voice muffled by the flannel of Craig's underwear.  "Smells
even better than I imagined!  Gee wiz, I'm so horny!  Can we start?  Pretty
please!" "Seamus, down boy!" the man shouted, and he reached forward and
grabbed his son's shoulder, pulling him away.  "You know the rules.  Not
until Daddy says OK.'

   The kid whimpered a bit, then looks up at Craig.  "Can I--can I have
those then?" he pointed shyly to the crumpled up, dirty, cum-drenched
briefs in Craig's hands.  "I--what--who are you people?" The man put his
hands up.  "Easy, buddy.  Don't worry.  You invited us over.  We were
talking on Pimpr...you were interested in my kid..." "I'm not interested in
kids!" Craig shouted.  "Now leave, please!" Suddenly, Craig felt something
tugging gently on his boxers.  "Please...mister...don't make us leave. 
I--I wanna get to know you." Craig looked down into the little boy's green
eyes, and he felt something change in him.  It was an odd sensation.  His
heart felt like it was melting a bit...but he also felt his cock move an
inch.  "You did say you wanted a friend," the man said.  "We don't have to
do anything.  But how about we have a beer and a chat?  I brought the
beers." He holds up a bag and wiggles his eyebrows.  Well...a friend did
sound nice.  Craig had no one he could talk to about what was going on in
his life, but this man--he would understand.  "Ok, one beer." Craig said,
taking the bag and leading them into the living room.  "And I'm not
touching your kid." "But Daaaaaaad!" the little boy whined.  The man gave
the little boy a look that shut him up.  "Listen buddy--name's Mick by the
way," the man reached out his hand, then took a beer from Craig and cracked
it open.  "Listen, I'm happy to have a chat with you, but my kid is super
horny.  He'll be whining all night if we don't give him something to keep
him busy.  You mind just letting him have those briefs?  I don't think
you're using them anymore."

   Craig looked at the briefs in his hand.  There were literally coated in
cum, and who knows how long they'd been in his hamper.  "What does he want
with these?" he asked.  "Toss 'em to him and find out," Mick said, nodding
at his son.  The little boy was in the middle of the floor, sitting
crosslegged, his eyes fixated on those briefs.  Craig didn't want to, but
he could feel his curiosity get the better of them.  As he sat down on the
couch next to Mick, he tossed the briefs so they landed just in front of
the kid.  It was like throwing bread at a starving seagull.  The little boy
lunged forward and grabbed it, then immediately stuffed them into his face.
Panting and moaning, he begins to rub his little hole through his airplane
briefs as he stuffs those nasty used undies into his mouth and sucks down
cold cum.  Yum!  Craig turned his head in disgust, and met eyes with Mick.
The man just shrugged and sighed, as if to say, "What can ya do?" "He's
always loved cum, ever since he first tasted it," Mick says.  "Can't help
himself around it.  Doesn't matter whose, or even if it's fresh. 
Obviously." "Really?  He likes it?  He's not just doing...that...because
you told him to?" "Nope.  Little slut can't get enough of it." Mick took a
pull of his beer and swallowed.  "The more time you spend on Pimpr, the
more you're realize that LOTS of little boys like cum.  And more.  But cum
is a big thing--kids get kinda competitive about it.  You should see some
of the conversations my kid has with other cum pigs." "The kids talk to
each other on there?" Craig asked.  He realized he was drinking his beer
too quickly because he was so nervous.  "Oh yeah.  Ya know, just kid stuff.
Pokémon and Spongebob.  How much cum they've eaten, whether they like ball
sweat or ass sweat better.  Stupid little kid stuff." Oh god.  It was
happening.  Craig's cock was rising.  This was so wrong.  There was a
little boy sitting on his living room floor--a boy he had met not five
minutes ago.  And now that kid was munching on Craig's old underwear like
they were life support.  "No way...kids don't like sweat.  Not...not the
taste of it." "You don't think so?" Suddenly Mick lifted himself up a bit
and put his hands down his shorts.  Craig could see his hand fishing around
in there.  "Hey, Seamus, baby boy?  Want some taint sweat?" "Oh boy!"
Seamus said, dropping the now clean undies to the floor and jumping to his
feet.  He ran over and obediently dropped to his knees before his father.
"Here, you can take it," the man said, kind of like he was talking to a dog
who was waiting to eat a treat.  Seamus didn't need any further
instruction. Craig could only watch in shock as the little boy leaned
forward and started going to town on his father's thick digit.  It looked
like he wanted to suck the finger off his father's hand.  Fucking hoover
type of shit.  "Oh my God..." Craig says.  "This is madness.  We shouldn't
be doing this." "Why not?" the man asked as he watched his little son suck
on his finger like a starving prisoner.  "He loves it, and it's no sweat
off my nuts.  Well, it is, but you know what I mean.  It's free for me, it
keeps him entertained.  I'm sure you know how hard it is to be a single
dad. There aren't enough toys in the world to keep a kid this age
entertained for this long.  But my ball sweat is free, and he loves the
shit.  He's just a little ball sweat whore, and who am I to deny him what
he loves?" Craig couldn't take it anymore.  He'd tried to slow down on the
drinking, since alcohol made him more likely to go on Pimpr.  But right
now, after seeing this, he needed a drink badly.  He got up on shaky legs
and went to the kitchen, where he dug around in the cupboard to get out a
bottle of whiskey.  He took a shot.  Then another.  Then another.  Then two
more, and still another.  After that, he was feeling better.  Disturbed? 
Yes.  Disgusted?  Yes.  Aroused?  Hell yes.  But at least he felt a bit
more normal.  That is, until he walked back into the living room and saw
what was happening on his couch.  Things had changed in the living room in
the 30 seconds or so that he'd been gone.  Mick was still mostly dressed,
but now the man's shorts were pulled down so that his big, meaty thighs and
hairy waist and crotch were exposed.  And little Seamus...well that kid was
in heaven.  He was on all fours in Craig's living room floor, his face
buried between his father's legs.  Craig could see Mick's two giant
golf-balled sized nuts resting on the boy's miniscule forehead, as the
little kid happily sucked his father's taint clean.  The little sweat lover
wasn't nuzzling at his daddy's taint.  No way.  He was full on trying to
EAT that fucking taint.  Gross.  The worst part was the noise.  The kid was
just singing!  He was so happy and intent on his father's taint hairs that
he was literally singing.  Well, singing isn't quite the right word, since
the gradeschooler's mouth was currently full of the delicious sex hairs
that cover the precious space between a man's nuts and his adult poop
chute. But he was definitely humming a happy tune.  "What...the fuck..."
was all Craig could get out.  His voice didn't stop the boy from slobbering
on daddy's taint, but it did cause the man to look up.  "Oh, sorry, bud. 
He got bored just tasting it on my fingers, and I figured this was a great
way to get him to quiet down.  It feels great--kinda weird but pretty nice.
You wanna give him a shot?  He'll happily suck--" "NO!" Craig shouted, then
immediately remembered that his own son was upstairs, fast asleep, and
hoped he hadn't woken the boy.  "No," he said again in a softer voice.  "I
don't fool around with kids." "That's not what you said an hour ago," came
the little voice from between the man's legs.  "You said you wanted to fuck
me till I died!" Then the boy is back in the hairy man space, lapping and
sucking and humming away.  "I--I never--" Craig stammers, but he can only
stare wide eyed as the man fishes out his phone and holds it up.  Craig
steps forward slowly and looks at the screen--a snapshot of his
conversation he'd apparently had with little Seamus.  And indeed, he had
said he wanted to fuck the kid.  Oh god, how could he have typed out those
words and have no memory?  "Look, buddy, it's OK," the man said, and added,
as if he could read Craig's mind, "The poppers are weird.  They fuck with
your head.  Make you forget stuff.  But god are they good for sex." "I...I
don't like those things," Craig said.  "They make me do things I wouldn't
do when I'm in my right mind." "It's OK, buddy.  The same could be said for
your cock.  Now come over here and sit down.  Let's have a chat and see if
we can't calm your nerves a bit." Craig pauses for a moment, but not
knowing what else to do, comes over and sits on the couch next to the man.
He can't help but stare down at the small little ginger child on the floor,
who is STILL happily sucking away at the taint of the man who created him.
"Look, buddy, me and Seamus here are open books.  I know it's hard to type
out all your questions, so take this opportunity to ask us anything you
want." "Anything?" Craig asked.  The man just smiled in response.  "Does
he--does he really like doing that?  Or is he trained?" "Hmmm...well in a
sense, he's trained.  I mean, no kid knows about ALL of the joys of sex
without a little guidance.  But while some boys I've met through Pimpr
need...a lot of prompting, that wasn't the case for my little Seamus.  He
took to sex like flies to shit, and he's never gotten over his addiction.
He'll do almost anything.  And sometimes he surprises me!" "How--how does
he surprise you?" The man smiles, as if he's recalling a few happy
memories. Then he says, "Hey, Seamus Slut, why don't you tell this nice man
what you did when daddy fell asleep after the baseball game?" The boy looks
up timidly, his face shiny with his own saliva from his enthusiastic taint
munching, but he looks nervous.  "But Daddy, you said that was a bad
thing..." "I know, kiddo, but it's OK.  This man wants to hear about it."
The boy clears his throat and wipes some gunk from his face (then eats it),
and begins his story.  "My daddy got really drunk once after watching a
baseball game.  He gets so silly on that beer stuff!  And I was really
horny and he wasn't awake and wouldn't wake up to play with me.  So I...I
stole his phone." Craig looks at the boy, trying to ignore how hard his
cock is pulsing listening to the little tyke tell his story.  "And what did
you do with daddy's phone, you little cock whore?" "I--I started texting
guys.  And I had...I had a bu--bukk--how do you say it, daddy?" "Bukkake,"
the man supplied his son.  "Bukkake orgy!  I had fifteen guys over while
daddy was asleep and they all came on my face!  It was so fun." The boy is
clearly swelling with pride, but that timid look returns when he sees his
father's stern glare.  "But daddy got mad because I did it for free and
lost him a lot of money.  But it's OK now because I worked extra hard the
next week to make up for it and made more money than ever!" "That's right!"
Mick says, gleefully grabbing his son's face and hauling the boy back in
between his legs.  This outburst from the slutty little kid stuns Craig
into silence for a second, before he can formulate his next question. 
"What--what was it like for you the first time you...uh..." "The first time
I whored my son out to a total stranger via a mobile app?  Let me tell ya,
it wasn't easy.  I was a wreck." As he says this, Mick casually leans back
to expose his hairy hole to his child.  The little boy doesn't waste a
second--he instantly attaches his lips to that adult hole like a leech and
begins sucking as if there's fruit punch inside.  Mick lets out a little
moan, then continues.  "It was really hard.  Lots of men wanted a crack at
my kid, and I just couldn't work up the courage to send him out.  But
eventually two things helped me." "What two things?" Craig asks, staring at
the little boy going to town on a hairy butthole.  His father's hairy
butthole.  "Well, first, my little tyke helped me.  He was very soothing
and understanding.  He was scared, but he said it was for the best--he's
pretty good at repeating what I say back to me, but for some reason,
hearing him say that sort of seemed like a good idea." "And--what was the
other thing?" Mick pauses for a moment, smiles, then reaches forward and
grabs something out of the pocket of his jeans, which are around his
ankles. He pulls out a small, brown bottle that Craig recognizes and knows
all too well.  "This stuff is magic.  Did you know KP Studios spent $7
billion and 9 years developing this stuff?  It's all very top secret, and
no one knows exactly what we are inhaling.  But I'll tell you this--they
nailed it.  They turned sex into exactly what it is supposed to be.  And
they designed it with guys like you and me in mind.  They made it so that
after a few inhales, it's very easy to see why it's a good idea to pimp out
your own flesh and blood to countless horny strangers.  The poppers were
designed to go along with Pimpr, and it's the best fucking union ever
made!" "But...but isn't it addictive?" Craig asks, trying to ignore the
sounds of the little gradeschooler on the carpet lapping and munching away
at his father's hole like it was a chocolate sphincter.  "Sure is!  But not
nearly as bad as the stuff the made for the kids." "Wh-what??" Craig says,
hardly able to believe his ears.  "Oh yeah.  They make Popperz4Kidz.  It's
great stuff--but it's totally got all the kids on Pimpr hooked.  Especially
little Seamus here." "You mean you let your kid sniff drugs?" "Well, don't
worry.  The label says it's totally safe.  Here, take a look." Mick reaches
forward again and into his other pocket and pulls out another bottle.  This
one isn't the same as the adult one at all.  Instead, it's a fluorescent
orange and blue bottle with lightning bolts and smiley faces all over it.
Emblazoned across the front are the words "POPPERZ4KIDZ: PIMPR EDITION."
Craig takes it with a shaky hand and holds it up to examine it.  He reads
the label: POPPERZ4KIDZ PIMPR EDITION is a subset of the traditional,
highly praised POPPERZ4KIDZ brand, and is just as safe for young ones as
other varieties from the POPPERZ4KIDS brand.  This edition is perfect for
the young Pimpr whores out there who LOVE giving it up to anonymous men! 
It allows children to lose ALL inhibitions towards sex and adults.  What's
more, it protects your boy from 75% of all STDs.  However, there is still a
risk for the truly slutty boys out there.  Have fun, kids--and remember,
breathe deep!  Craig slowly turns his eyes from the bottle to the man
sitting on his couch.  "You--you don't actually give these to him, do you?
They sound dangerous." "I don't have to give them to him," the man says in
between moans.  Apparently the anal licking he's getting is top notch.  "He
takes them himself.  Little guy is a total addict.  Here, check this out."
Suddenly the man snatches the bottle and gives them a shake, making the
small ball inside click.  Both men look down at the redheaded kid, who
instantly perks up his ears, like a dog who hears the fridge opening.  His
eyes are filled with hunger, and the area around his mouth is all slimy
from his own spit (and maybe his dad's ass juices).  There's an ass sex
hair hanging from his upper lip, but he's so fixated on the bottle in his
dad's hands that he doesn't seem to notice.  "Can I, daddy?  Can I?" The
man just shakes the bottle for a bit, smiling at his slutty, redheaded son.
He turns to Craig.  "What do you think?  You wanna see my kid on poppers?
He'll go crazy!" "I--I don't know.  I don't want to hurt him..." "Trust me,
if these things did any permanent damage, he'd be a lot more fucked up than
he his.  This kid goes through about four bottles of this shit a week!"
"Please...poppers..." the boy says quietly, his eyes following the bottle's
every move.  It's clear to everyone in the room that he wants that
bottle--badly.  "Is he gonna...try to...touch me?" Craig asks, and is
immediately struck by how silly this sounds.  He's talking as if the child
could molest him--what a backwards thought.  But still, the way the boy
went after his dad's hole and the way the poppers are making him act...and
he hasn't even sniffed them yet.  "I'll tell ya what, buddy," Mick says to
his kid.  "Since our friend is new to all this, I just want you to take a
hit and do some dirty talk, OK?  No touching.  In fact, go over there and
sit in the middle of the floor." Obediently, the small child hauls himself
up to standing, then walks a few feet to the middle of the living room
floor and plops down on his knees.  He looks like a puppy dog begging for
food.  "OK, kiddo.  Here ya go," Mick says, then rolls the bottle across
the floor till it hits the little boy in the knees.  Without wasting a
second, Seamus snatches up the bottle, uncaps it, and holds it up to his
nose.  He takes a big, long hit--longer than Craig would ever take of his
adult poppers.  Then he pauses for a moment, and the little tyke does
another even bigger hit off the colorful bottle.  You could hear a pin drop
in the room as the two men watch the boy, who stares back at them, blank,
his eyes wide and all pupil.  Then it starts.  The filth starts to pour
from the little boy's mouth in an almost endless stream.  "Cock.  Fuck.  I
need cock.  Please!  I am a little boy, and I know I shouldn't love cock as
much as I do, but I can't help it!  I just love everything about dick!  I
love the way it feels when a cock slides into my little throat and lets me
squeeze it as hard as I can with my mouth muscles.  The only thing better
than that is when I get it up my boy butt!" Seamus giggles for a moment,
his eyes rolling back up into his head.  He seems to be in a sort of la la
land reserved specifically for little boys high on poppers and horny for
cock.  Then, without warning, he takes two more giant hits off his bottles.
"I'm so happy I'm a slut!" he announces gleefully.  "Sluts get to do so
much fun stuff!  Like I feel bad for all those little boys who don't know
what it tastes like when you're puking up cum on a cock you've only just
met two minutes ago.  Or what it's like when a man pisses up your butt and
then makes you drink it after you shit it out in the toilet." He pauses
again, then takes two more major hits off the poppers.  "Oh fuck, I need
cock NOW!" he says, then begins to crawl across the floor on all fours,
still talking as he makes his way over to the two men.  "I am seriously
gonna die if I don't have some cock in one of my holes in the next five
seconds I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." "Oh god, here he comes!" cried Mick. 
"Quick, take some of these.  It'll make it easier!" The next few things
happened so quickly, Craig would have a hard time remembering how it all
went down.  He looked to Mick, who was shaking up the bottle of adult
poppers and quickly uncapping it.  Then he looked to Seamus, who was now
crawling slowly across the floor on all fours, like a puppy with a bad
limp. The little thing was moving his head aimlessly back and forth while
he murmured to "Cock.  Oh god, cock.  I need cock, I need it inside me,
I've gotta get some cock!  I'll die if I don't.  Cock is the only reason
I'm alive no food no drink no sleep just cock cock cock cock..." Mick
elbowed Craig in the ribs and said excitedly, "Now watch this, buddy, you
won't believe this shit." He pitched his voice louder for Seamus, and
called the boy.

   "Seamus!  Here boy!  Over here, Seamus!" He slapped Craig's thigh a
couple times, just like he's trying to attract a puppy.

   Seamus raised his head to point his face at the two men, and they could
see that the lights though the lights were on in his little head, no one
was home.  The green of his eyes had shrunk to a tiny ring, because his
pupils were dilated like he had just taken three snorts of cocain.  His
mouth was hanging, a strand of drool swinging from the corner of it as he
shambled across the living-room floor.

   "Knew I smelled cock.  I'm gonna get some cock in me!  I need cock,
please!" The little boy is still in such a stupor that he can't move
quickly, but he looks a bit more focused on his goal, if that was possible.

   He finally arrived at the couch and fell into a position that is all to
normal for boy sluts like him.  He was on his knees, head cocked up, as he
stared up at the beautiful piece of meat before him.  He balanced himself
gently on Craig's hairy knees, completely fixated on the oozing, throbbing,
veiny pillar of flesh towering over him.

   The little guy settled back on his haunches, and looked just about ready
to pounce when-

   "Seamus," Mick broke in.

   The cock-crazed little kidwhore swiung his vacant face toward,
continuing his pathetic babbling but freezing.  The sneaky little guy,
however, continues to slowly move his hands up those hairy calves, until
they pass Craig's knees and make his way to his inner thigh.

   "Cock, right in front of me.  I know it.  I can feel the cock heat and
smell the cock drool.  Almost at the cock."

   "No, Seamus," Marcus said sternly.  "No cock for you until this nice man
says so."

   Seamus whimpered, but he didn't really protest.  He just mumbled more,
now inaudible, and with a seriously sad look in his eye.  Sad and hungry.

   Craig was of course horrified at what he was witnessing, but he couldn't
deny that he was more turned on than he ever had been before.  He seemed to
be having that experience a lot these days.

   The daddy didn't know whether to be relieved that the little
cockslut--the little boy, what was he thinking, calling him a
cockslut?---untangled his little fingers from his leg hair and wrapped his
tiny white arms around the back of Craig's bent knee.  He couldn't help but
twist his mouth up in disdain, though, when Seamus started humping his
little bald kindergarten crotch against Craig's hairy shin, just like an
ill-behaved dog.  And when the kid lowered his face to lick and suck at
Craig's inner thigh, still prattling the whole time against Craig's salty
skin and the rough hair there, Craig looked at Mick, his eyes screaming,
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?"

   "This is what I wanted to show you, guy," Mick said, already able to
read his new friends' mind.

   He nodded his head down toward his son, so Craig returned his gaze to
the tiny, ghost-pale 5-year-old hunching mindlessly against his tanned leg
like his narrow (so crushable, the thought comes unbidden to Craig) hips
are battery operated, bright-red hair sometimes barely brushing against the
underside of Craig's rigid cock as the slut scrubs his adorable face
against the coarse hair of his thigh like he's trying to scratch his face
all up, mark it as Craig's.

   Mick's voice interrupted his reverie: "This is his holding pattern. 
There's no way to make him stop except giving in or physically taking
charge of him.  I know; I've tested it."

   "Wh--what do you mean?"

   "Back in March I decided to conduct a little experiment.  I wanted to
see just how long my little whorebaby here"--he reached into Craig's lap to
ruffle Seamus's hair, bouncing Craig's hardon a couple times with his
muscular forearm--"would keep it up.  I saved up a week's worth of March
Madness games on my DVR, and on Saturday morning I set myself up nude on
the couch with a whole day's worth of food and beer.  Brought a cup to piss
into, too, because I didn't plan on getting up before Seamus did.

   "Then I put him in this holding pattern, and started up the games.  And
let me tell you, man, I got through the whole week of games.  Whenever I
pissed, I'd have Seamus take a break and drink it down, so that the cup
would always be available and so that he didn't get dehydrated, but
otherwise he stayed at it all day and all night.  When I fell asleep, he
was still going.  When I woke up on the night to piss and have him drink
it, he was still going.  When I woke up on the couch the next morning, he
was STILL going, with a couple empty bottles of kiddie poppers at his
knees. I'm not ashamed to admit it: He outlasted me.  When I woke up and
realized my son had been on his knees in front of me, humping my leg and
making out with my thigh and huffing poppers for NINETEEN HOURS STRAIGHT, I
was just so proud of him that I let him have it."

   "And what did he do?"

   "What do you mean, what did he do?  He gobbled my cock like it was his
first meal in weeks, just like always!  I tell you, he sucks cock like a
beast.  It's like he's a cross between an animal and a vacuum cleaner. 
You've got to try him, man.  Look at how desperate he is for it!  All you
have to do is tell him yes."

   Craig looked back to Mick just in time to see the man reach over and
push the bottle of adult poppers up against his nose.  The last thing he
saw before he began to inhale those intense poppers was that little child,
fully naked, crawling towards him.

   Then he was gone, lost in the poppers haze.  But this hit, for some
reason, didn't cause him to hallucinate.  Instead, it intensified his
horniness beyond belief.  His cock swelled up so much it felt like it was
going to fly off his body, and he could feel his balls turning in their
sack.  He'd never felt so aroused before.

   Unable to stop himself, he says very quickly, almost a whisper, "Ok.  He
can do it."

   Little Seamus leaped at him from the floor, grabbing Craig's boxers and
yanking them down as hard as he can.  Craig's cock flew out and hits his
stomach so hard it knocks the wind out of him.

   And he could only stare down, almost like he was watching a TV show, as
Seamus lost his little mind.  His fat, throbbing cock was only on his abs
for a moment before Seamus, that little redheaded slut boy, grabbed it with
both hands and commenced devouring it like he was a puppy and the dick was
covered in peanut butter.

   Craig had seen plenty of blowjobs on porn, and he'd received so many BJs
over the course of his life--but still, he was shocked at the feeling of
this tiny little boy's vacuum hole devouring him.

   This was not like the oral sex he'd seen in porno flicks.  There was no
quiet "mmm" and knowing looks, no smiling, no gentle kissing or licking. 
No, this was more like watching a pig eat out of a trough.  The
gradeschooler looked like he was trying to kill himself via cock to throat
blockage.  He apparently didn't care one bit for Craig's massive mushroom
head--instead he dove down as far as he could, and like a sword swallower,
took all of Craig in one gulp.  Such a big task for such a little boy!

   Suddenly, Craig heard a voice in his ear, and realized Mick had slid
over closer to him and was now speaking to him.  It was hard to hear his
words through the haze, but Craig did his best to listen.  Anything to
distract him from the fact that he was currently getting a sloppy blow job
from a child his son's age!

   "Look at him go, buddy," Mick began, his voice low and growly, his hot
breath hitting Craig's ear.  "This is my son in his natural element.  This
is when he's happiest--when he has a stranger's cock buried to right about
here."

   Mick pauses and reaches forward to grab the bottom of his son's throat
with his hand and squeezed.  Craig couldn't believe how good it felt--being
stroked off while inside a baby boy's mouth.  But it was the best feeling
he'd ever experienced.  And even though Seamus was turning red in the face,
he didn't want it to stop, ever.

   Mick kept squeezing as he continued his speech.  "It's kind of
disgusting, isn't it?  I mean, he's just so damn piggy around cock.  But
honestly, it's not his fault.  He was born this way.  He came out of the
womb ready to guzzle cum and take cock up his butthole."

   "Uh, you better stop.  I'm--I'm--" Craig was finding it hard to think or
speak.  He wanted this to stop, and yet, he wanted it to keep going
forever.

   "You're what?" Mick said, now squeezing his son's throat tighter,
choking the boy and jerking off Craig.  "You're gonna blow?  You're gonna
flood my kid's throat with jizz?  You're gonna deposit your semen directly
into his stomach?  You're gonna empty your nuts into a little child's face
hole?"

   "OH FUCK!" Craig screamed, louder than he intended, as his orgasm
overtook him.  But this was not just any orgasm.  This was the most intense
orgasm the man had ever experienced in his life.  It felt like there was a
factory in his right testicle that was manufacturing cum like it was a
natural resource, and in his left nut was another cum factory twice as
large.

   Any normal faggot would have been alarmed at this flood of semen.  Even
the slutty boys in porno films who claim to love to drink cum would have
coughed, snarfed, gagged, and panicked.

   But the boy on the receiving end of this semen overload was not just any
porn star.  He was a Pimpr kid--one of the most active within 100
miles--and he was more than used to coaxing out insane loads.  That meant
the little gradeschooler was able to chug Craig's seed without batting an
eye (in fact he was staring up at Craig the entire time), and he didn't
make a peep, except for a few inevitable snorts, snarfs, and cum sneezes.

   When it was finally over, all the boy did was pop his head off, let out
a little burp, and say "Thanks!" with a big smile on his face.  Then he
quickly went back to work on Craig's cock head, apparently hoping there
might be more cum there to gobble up.

   "Oh shit," Craig said, panting.  "I shouldn't have done that.  That was
bad...get him off me!"

   Despite Craig's obvious distress, Mick didn't make a move.  Instead, he
laughed.  "Relax, buddy.  Just give it a second.  That was just your first
load, and this brand of poppers is a multiple load brand.  Here, take
another sniff!" "No way!" Craig said, trying to get up.  But unfortunately
he was trapped by the little vacuum currently working on his cock head. 
"Don't you dare!  I don't--" "Shhhh," Mick said, then held the bottle up
under Craig's nose again.  Craig had no choice but to breathe in, and once
again, he found himself paralyzed, unable to stop what was happening before
him.

   "I wanna show you something, bud," Mick said as he got up from the
couch. Without warning, he grabbed his son and yanked him off Craig's dick.
The kid was sucking so hard the pop of his mouth being pulled off the cock
head made a loud, echoing sound.

   Craig's head was swimming as he stared down at the floor.  Mick had
turned the little boy around and positioned him on all fours right in front
of Craig, so the boy's knees were directly between Craig's spread feet.

   Then Mick grabbed the boy's ass cheeks, those two unbelievably tiny pale
globes, and yanked them apart.  Inside was something completely expected
and yet still absolutely shocking.  Craig was getting a good, hard look at
the tiny, pink pucker of Seamus' backdoor love tunnel.

   "Did you know I let my kid decide how many nights a week he works?  When
he was little, he only did two or three.  But for the past year or so, he's
CHOOSING to work seven days a week.  Seriously, if he could have it, I
think he would suckle men's genitals around the clock.  But I have to make
sure he eats and sleeps--cause he underperforms if he gets too hungry or
sleepy."

   "Does....does his um...hole ever get tired out?" Craig couldn't stop
staring at that pink hole.  It looked SO much like his own son's.  This kid
HAD to be a virgin too.

   "Ha!  You mean does is his hole all floppy and gaping due to his
obsessive sex addiction?" Then, without any warning at all, Mick stands up
on his knees, points his fat, thick cock head at his son's opening, and
pushes.  Craig can only see the back of Mick's muscled body, and he sees
the man's ass clench and flex as he pushes forward.

   It's such a smooth movement, Craig can't believe it.  In no time, he
hears the guy's flesh slap against the boy's ass.  His own heart is racing
as he realizes that right now, the little slut on the floor is taking EVERY
inch of the cock that made him.

   And he's loving it!  Craig can hear his tiny, high-pitched voice
moaning, groaning, giggling, and yelping.  The boy sounds overwhelmed, but
he also sounds extremely happy.

   This only lasts for a minute or so before the man roughly pulls out,
once again displaying the little child's ass for Craig.  It's now gaping,
winking, pulsating--trying to close up after being invaded by a cock that
must be at least five times as thick as the diameter the hole once was.

   Mick makes the boy shake and moan as he traces his finger around his
son's winking orifice.  "See, you'd think this thing was ruined, wouldn't
you?  But let me tell you a little secret: God made little boys' holes out
of rubber.  The younger the boy, the more elastic the hole.  These things
are meant to be stretched!" With that, the man poked both of his thick
thumbs into his kid's sloppy hole and YANKED, eliciting a high-pitched
squeal from the child prostitute.

   "But that's where the genius of poppers for kids comes in.  Watch." Mick
extracts his fingers from the kid and leans forward to grab the bottle of
poppers for kids off the carpet.  "Do the trick," he commands his son. 
Without hesitating, the little boy flips over on to his back and lifts one
leg high above his head.  He's looking under his leg at Craig, smiling
while showing off his recently fucked hole.

   Mick reaches forward and hands the boy the poppers, but only after
giving it a hearty shake and uncapping it.  The boy eagerly grabs it,
maintaining his pose, and shoves them hungrily up his nose.  Then he takes
several deep breaths until his daddy grabs back the bottle and caps it.

   "Watch the hole," Mick says.

   Craig doesn't need to be told, because the transformation is already
happening, and it's intoxicating.  Right before his eyes, the hole is
closing up.  It's pulsing, but each pulse makes it tighter and tighter and
tighter until it's remarkably back to the original state it was in.

   "My god...that's...that's..."

   "Genius?" Mick suggests, smiling.  "Now watch how this affects the kid."
As if on cue, the little boy lets out a loud howl, like a wolf puppy, and
then locks eyes with Craig.  The begging begins.

   "Fuck me!" he says, sounding much like the main character of The
Exorcist.  The kid is crazed!  "Please!  I need to be dicked!  I need cock
all the way up my guts!  I need a hard, rough fucking to scare me out of my
slut trance!  I want you to find my bum limit and push it to its breaking
point, then keep pushing!  Please, don't hold back!  JUST FUCKING FUCK ME,
PLEASE!!!!"

   If you've never had the pleasure of hearing a horny elementary school
slut begging to get fucked senselessly, then you don't know how powerful
such a command can be.  Even our hardened and hard hero, Craig, can't
resist the beggings of such a hungry little butt whore.

   And so, before Mick can stop him, he lunges forward, and grabs a bottle
of poppers.  He shakes, uncaps, and shoves it up his nose.

   "OH NO!" Mick cried out.  "Those are the Popperz4Kidz!  Oh fuck!  Those
are way too strong for adults!  KIDZ ONLY!"

   Mick grabs the bottle out of Craig's hands, but it's too late.  Craig is
already gone, completely transported to slut land.  In some ways, the
poppers have the same effect on him as they do on the little boy.  He is
confused, stupid, hungry, and unbelievably horny.

   But it doesn't make him want to have stuff crammed up his asshole.  No,
instead it has the opposite effect.  It makes him want to fuck, BAD, and
that's just what he plans to do.

   "Hold, on kiddo!" Mick shouts, hopping up on the couch.  He's obviously
concerned for his kid, but not enough to stop what's about to happen.  He
wants to enjoy the show of a man losing control and fucking a kid for the
first time.

   Now, you'd think that a conflicted daddy like Craig would be gentle. 
He'd maintain his concern and composure, even if he was being forced to
give in to his own sexual desires--namely that of butt fucking a baby slut.

   You'd be wrong.  Poppers4Kidz were designed to remove ALL inhibitions,
where adult poppers only strip away a few layers.  Because that's what kids
are, right?  Little bundles of inhibitions just waiting to be torn to
shreds.

   Unfortunately for everyone involved, this translated into Craig having
zero inhibitions as he lined up his pulsating, pool-ball-sized cock head
against the tiny sphincter on display in front of him and PUSHED.  And he
kept pushing, so that within three seconds he was completely inside the
child prostitute.

   Now, you know you've got a big cock when you can elicit a noise like a
howl and a woman's scream out of a boy who makes a living out of taking big
adult cocks up his pooper day in and day out.

   There were two loud pops as well, nearly drowned out by the boy's wails.
Mick knew that meant the cock had plowed through both walls of the boy's
anal cavity, something that usually took at least a minute of fucking.

   Craig didn't stop there, either.  Fully in the clutches of Popperz4Kidz,
he immediately set at the task of turning Seamus' internal organs into
mushy kiddie guts.  He did not hold back--he couldn't.  And it wasn't just
the poppers either.

   No, he was fucking with such fury and rage, because the hole in front of
him was not that of the little guy upstairs.  He wanted to be sinking into
Codey's cunt, not this strange boy's cunt.  This strange little boy whom he
found over the Internet had ruined his chance at losing his kiddie-raping
virginity to his own son, and for that, Seamus had to pay.

   Though looking at Seamus, you wouldn't realize he was really "paying"
for anything.  His face was twisted in an expression that screamed
pain--but there was a smile behind those tear-filled eyes.  The kid was in
his element--that element being the throes of a boygasm.

   This was no surprise at all to Mick, who was sitting back on the couch,
stroking his cock, and watching his son get deep-dicked.  The kid's second
wall was like an orgasm switch.  Whenever it was punctured, the kid set off
in one of his half-cute, half-pathetic kiddie orgasms.  They were violent,
but Mick couldn't tell if it was his kid seizuring out a dry cum or if it
was the fact that his ass was being divided into two equal parts by Craig's
fat boner.

   The boygasm was coming to an end, which meant Mick had to get up.  He
sighed--he was so comfy and was enjoying watching the show, but he had a
job to do, as a father to Seamus and a friend to Craig.

   The father of one of Pimpr's top prostitutes got up and headed over to
kneel behind his boy.  He watched the boy's big green eyes, waiting to see
"the change." It was like a Dr.  Jekyll/ChildWhore thing.  When he was
cumming, the little guy's eyes were distant and far off, as if he was in
some faraway neverland occupied wholly by children who know they can
boygasm.  (They all can, by the by.)

   But then, by the end of it, the life comes back to his eyes, along with
a hell of a lot of pain.  Sure, Seamus is a pain slut, and he LOVES getting
fucked, but a kindergarten hole is a kindergarten hole.  It's not gonna
feel "good" to take a porno-sized cock, no matter how many times you do it.
And this was by far the roughest fuck Seamus had had so far in his few
years on Earth.

   So when he "comes to," Seamus begins to realize what a mess he's gotten
himself into.  Fortunately, Mick had a few years of experience trying to
figure out the best way to soothe his son while he was getting brutally
fucked.

   First he plucked out two sex hairs--one from the back of his nutsack and
one from his armpit--and shoved them in the wailing kid's mouth.  Seamus
sucks on anything put in his mouth, so he has no problem gagging on his
dad's fingers, even when he is getting the rape of a lifetime.

   That obviously was not nearly enough, so after a bit of that, Mick got
up and just started teabagging his kid.  I'm not sure how two big, hairy,
cum-filled balls are actually comforting to a child getting his anus
shredded, but Seamus sucked them into his mouth like they were two giant
Advil tablets to kill the pain.

   Craig took the boy's calmness as an opportunity to double down on his
efforts.  Do you know why?  Because in his EXTREME poppered-up state, the
boy beneath him wasn't some professional child slut bent on guzzling cum
and sucking anonymous cock.

   No, the little creature beneath him had transformed into you know who.
Codey.

   It was Codey on his back in the living room, getting carpet burn up and
down his entire little back.  It was Codey who was breathing and screaming
like a pregnant woman giving birth to a 15-pound baby.

   It was Codey who was relentlessly, ruthlessly getting deep-dicked by his
own father, rammed and ripped open by the very penis that spermed him into
his mommy's pussy before she up and left.

   Of course, back in the real world, it was just little Seamus, one of
Pimpr's most beloved butt sluts, taking a royal pounding on the living-room
floor.  But if Seamus was anything, he was a true trouper!  Sure, he was
making all kinds of weird sounds (both internally and externally), but
there were no protests.  But he did need a bit more comfort, so he screamed
out, "FINGIES, DADDY!"

   Mick smiled at this.  "He likes to suck on fingers when he's in intense
pain." Then Mick started to move his hand toward the child, but Craig
slapped it away.  "If this slut wants fingers, he'll get fingers!" Craig
shouted, and then mashed his fist into the little boy's face.

   It was clear this was not the comforting touch Seamus was seeking,
though still he didn't protest.  Instead, he allowed his jaw to be yanked
open, hard, by all four fingers of Craig's meaty paw.

   Craig had apparently surfaced enough from his fantasy to discover the
joys of dirty talking at a grade-school-aged boy.  As he built himself up
to his orgasm, he released a sudden torrent of filthy speech to his little
rented-out fuck puppet.

   "You nasty little piece of shit," the full-grown man said to the tiny
little boy he was pounding into oblivion.  "You fucking love cock, don't
you?  It's all you live for.  You are obsessed, and that's how you get
yourself into these kinds of messes, you little piece of cum waste."

   He was pumping hard and faster, really LONGDICKING the little kid
beneath him.  "You don't even deserve cock, you know that?  Boys like you
take up all our time with your stupid wants and needs, and you give us
NOTHING in return.  Well it's payback time, bitch.  You get to pay with
your guts, and I get to COLLECT THE CASH!"

   At this point, Mick realized that his new best friend was imagining
Seamus to be his own flesh and blood.  This realization nearly made Mick
shoot out the cum load boiling in his nuts.  But he held off, because he
knew this was going to get really good.

   "OH YOU LITTLE FUCKING SLUT!" Craig screamed.  Mick did nothing to stop
him from shouting at the top of his lungs.  "This cunt was MEANT TO BE
USED! YOU WERE MEANT TO BE A CUM-FOR-CASH KIDDIE FROM THE DAY YOU WERE
BORN."

   Craig threw his head back, nearly ready to explode in the child's guts.
"AH CODEY!  FUCK YOU, SON!  FUCK YOU FOR DOING THIS TO ME!  IT'S YOUR FAULT
YOU'RE A SLUT, AND SO YOU ARE GONNA PAY!  GET READY FOR THE FIRST DAY OF
THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, CODEY!  YOU'RE A REAL PIMPR SLUT NOW, AREN'T YOU
CODEY??  AREN'T YOU!?"

   "DADDY??" came a voice from across the room.  A little voice.  A
high-pitched voice.  A very familiar voice for Craig.

   "CODEY!" Craig shouted as he looked up to see his son standing at the
foot of the stairs in his little briefs with the monkeys and bananas all
over them, staring with his thumb in his mouth at the scene in front of
him. His little red cast is bent up against his tummy.

   And that's when Craig started to explode.  His first two shots of gooey
man juice went right into Seamus' upper intestine, and then in his shock he
pulled out of the little boy with a sickening "SHLUUUUURP."

   Craig rose to his feet, his knees trembling, as he went Sandy Hook on
the room.  In other words, he shot all the children in the room multiple
times--with his sperm.  That includes our dear little Codey, who was
amazingly standing 8 feet away and still managed to get a thick glob of
baby sauce on his chin and a splatter of it across his forehead.  He looked
like a milk advertisement.

   Craig, still spewing jizz, rushed over to his son.  His big, hard cock
was bright red and slimy as all fuck, and it was now leaking big globs of
cum, his balls bouncing up and down.

   "Codey!  What are you doing awake??" he said, trying half-heartedly to
cover up his 9-inch manhood.  It was simply impossible.  Craig was rapidly
coming down from his poppers high, and he was already feeling sick about
the scene before him.

   "I--I thought you were calling me, daddy.  Are you mad at me?" Suddenly,
Codey was crying.  "What were you doing to that boy, daddy?" he whined. 
The little boy was always an easy crier, though perhaps he had some
justification, seeing that he had just walked in on his beloved daddy
clearly hurting and torturing a naked little boy his own age.  And he got
hit with cock slop.  And he's probably a pretty sleepy and cranky little
guy in the middle of the night, isn't he?

   "Oh, baby, it's OK," Craig says, trying not to think about how his
swollen, cum-and-ass-juice-covered cock is only inches away from his son's
sobbing face.

   "Here, daddy will make it all better."

   Craig decides that even though he's totally obscene, he has to get this
kid out of the room.  There is a pedophile and a child slut in the living
room, and his son is not safe.  So he bends down, picks up his sobbing son,
and carries him upstairs.

   Codey instinctively wraps his arms around his daddy's neck and his legs
around his waist.  He has no idea that this is effectively the same
position he will be in when his father decides it's time to pop his cherry.


   Craig's mind is totally swimming.  The poppers are still getting to him,
and he's coming down from an incredible orgasm.  But more than that, he
cannot believe what he just did.  The Poppers4Kidz can only hide so much.
He had just fucked the living daylights out of a kid Codey's age.  And he'd
done it with total abandon.

   And his son had caught him.

   He plops Codey down in bed and pulls the cover up.  The kid is almost
asleep again, thankfully.  He ruffles the boy's hair, tells him to go back
to sleep, and creeps back downstairs.

   As soon as he hits the bottom step, both Seamus and his father rush up
to him.  "Jesus, is that the casted kid?" Mick exclaimed.  "He's even
sexier in real life!"

   "Hey!  We didn't finish!" Seamus whines.  "I'm supposed to clean you
off!" The little kid reaches for his dick.

   Craig finds himself trying to fend off a teeny-tiny cock slut who wants
to slurp on dirty cock while also listening to a stranger talk about how
slutty and horny and sexy his son is.  It's all too much for him.

   "GET OUT!" he screams, and both Mick and Seamus freeze.  "GET THE FUCK
OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

   "Jesus, buddy," Mick says.  "You don't have to go so crazy now that
you've cum--" Now Seamus is the boy that's sobbing.  Mick gives Craig a
stern yet knowing look, scoops up his naked little slut hound, and walks
out the door.

   Craig sits on the couch for a moment and buries his head in his hand. 
He can't stop the images running through his mind.  That little boy huffing
on a brown bottle, slurping on his dad's butthole, sucking on pubic hairs.
And getting fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked like no child should be
fucked.  And god....that orgasm...

   "No," Craig said out loud.  "I have to stop this once and for all." He
creeps up the stairs and nearly heads to his bedroom.  Then he realizes he
should check on his son one more time.

   He tiptoes into Codey's room and looks at the little angel sleeping. 
Though most angels don't fall asleep with their father's cum drying on
their face, but let's not split hairs.

   He carefully sits down on the edge of the boy's bed and begins to softly
stroke his hair.  "I'm sorry, Codey," he whispers, as he traces one hand
down his son's cheek and over his lips.

   Which, he realizes, was a huge mistake, because as soon as his finger
crosses over the boy's pouty pink lips, it's sucked into that face hole. 
The boy is suckling on his finger like it's a teat, reminding Craig that
there is indeed something inherently slutty about his sweet little boy.

   "Oh god," he says, noticing how his cock is almost instantly hard again.
He really would have loved to have someone clean off his cock with their
mouth--he just couldn't allow it to be that whoremonster of a child,
Seamus. It was too much.

   But here...here was an open mouth ready to suck....  And would Codey
ever know?  Craig was shouting at himself to stop as he traced one finger
along his stiffening cock, collecting up the cock snot and boy butt slime
until he has a frothy glob on the tip of that middle finger.

   Then, as a tear rolls down his eye, he sticks his finger back up to
those lips.  "Mmmmm," Codey moans in his sleep.

   Craig tries another fingerful, and another.  And that's how he spends
the last few hours of that fateful night: in his son's bedroom, in tears,
unable to stop himself from finger-feeding his son the rape residue from
his cock.

   Finally, just as the sun is coming up, he realizes he never locked the
door after kicking out Mick and his whorebaby.  He latches the deadbolt and
is just about to head upstairs when he notices something on the coffee
table in the living room.

   There's a silver card, a little bigger than a business card, lying
neatly in the very center.  On the back of it is the Pimpr logo, which
makes Craig sick to his stomach.

   He reaches down and plucks it, finding it to be a bit sticky--some sort
of sex goo holding it in place, no doubt, he thinks ashamedly.

   Craig flips the card over and finds it filled with text that reads:

   You're invited to the third annual Pimpr Dads and Sons Meet and Greet!
This is a time for the men and boys of Pimpr to come together, socialize,
and have fun--and maybe even provide a little feedback on the Pimpr
experience.
Time: Wednesday, May 4th, 9am - ????
Where: The Garden Hotel and Megaplex
What You Need: Your cock, a bottle of poppers, and your kid if you have
one!  Single men who are fans of Pimpr are also encouraged to attend.  All
child prostitutes must arrive lubed and collared.  Poppers will also be
provided, of course, as will a few other substances and as always an open

bar.

   Can't wait to meat your boys!

   From,
   And then, written in by hand: Your New Friend, Mick.