My re-interpretation of a well-known precautionary tale for children.

This is fiction, don't read this if you shouldn't legally be doing so but otherwise enjoy. Everything is consensual and fantasy in this story.

Originally posted by me under a different pseudonym.

I love email!

-Royal Red



The Story of Little Red Riding Hood



Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country boy, the prettiest little creature who was ever seen.

His mother was excessively fond of him; and his grandmother doted on him even more. This good old lady even had a little red riding hood made just for him. It was a crimson hooded shirt that ended just above his navel. The velveteen material was soft and sheer, and the garment hung delicately over the child's slender frame.

This look suited the boy so extremely well that everybody named him "Little Red Riding Hood".

And they called him "Little Red" for short.



There was much reason for the boy to be proud of his garb. The fabric was sheer and well-fitted; it left just enough room against his body for the wind to send tingles across the tender skin it covered.

One may say that it was quite the nefarious apparel, for it was these tingles which first awakened Little Red's more lustful desires.

From even the most innocuous breeze, the rustling fabric caused the child's soft nipples to twitch and harden and grow achy with desire. It was also inconvenient that the stylish embroidery on the chest hid a series of knots and braids that rested precariously over his nipples; they were placed in such a way that even the smallest disturbance would mimic the tease of a gentle lover.

The result was no surprise. Little Red never failed to sport an innocent erection to match his daily garb - an erection that the bashful boy could never hide while wearing those rosy-pink, thin revealing shorts.

However, there was never anything mentioned of these innocent erections, for everybody agreed that they added quite a charming look.



As a naive and growing boy, it was common for Little Red's small cocklet to straight as a nail for entire days on end, and visibly drooling in sexual frustration. In such events, Little Red's boyhood made a terrible mess of the fabric around his waist, but he dared not touch or fondle it for he was ever the good little boy.

Of course, it was not as if Little Red even had the faintest clue of how such fondling would occur in the first place. His mother was strict, and the Reverend even stricter.

O yes, the Reverend was strict indeed.  

Each day, the kind man of God would test Little Red to ensure he was being good. To do so, the Reverend would lift that little red riding hood over the boy's belly as he tugged down those thin red shorts. Little Red would be quite afraid, but he would obediently stand still like a good little boy. 

Often for hours, the clergyman would faithfully test poor Little Red by rubbing him, and teasing him, and tickling him in his naughty places until the boy would break his chaste silence with mewling cries of reluctant thrill.

The benevolent man would touch just the right spots to make Little Red feel so much burning, tempestuous sin in his body that he felt he could simply explode.

But not to worry, for these "explosions" would never occur. After all, the Reverend was a man of the Holy Bible. He was there to educate Little Red in the ways of God and chastity. He was there to guide the boy to salvation and wholesomeness.

The priest would certainly never let Little Red succumb to his sinful heat, no matter how many times the boy was pushed to the breaking point, no matter how much his luscious thighs buckled with need, and no matter how many hours upon hours of such cruel testing the youth was made to endure.



It was only at the end of the day that the strict clergyman would leave the boy hanging without resolution at his weakest, horniest, most desperate moment. After feeding the boy an herbal potion that would prevent what he called "devilish dreams", the Reverend would simply lower the little red hood back over the boy's body, and pull those screaming tight shorts back over those ripe round cheeks.

Then the clergyman would abandon Little Red to fend for himself against the waves of sin that wracked his simmering body. If on one day the boy did not seem up to the task, the good reverend would order the boy to sit across the statue of the Virgin Mary and pray for an hour to be forgiven for his lustful flesh.

But oh, how lustful Little Red's tender flesh would be.

The boy was tempted beyond reason by his unearthly wishes. In his guilt, Little Red sought to act as if his urges did not exist. He tried to simply will the temptation out of his body. But the more he tried to resist them, the more his mountain of need would consume his every thought.

No matter how hard he tried to be a proper child of the Lord, there were always cracks in his better willpower. Little Red's tongue would wet his lips with dormant longing, his thighs would grind together fruitlessly behind the pew; his back would arch and his body would ache for release inside the teasing prison of his little red suit.

Although his body trembled with moral frailty, Little Red always refused to give in like the good little boy he was. He refused to give in to the throbbing warmth radiating from his loins, even when it threatened to devour his body whole.

Like a good little boy, he refused to give in to the ragged and panting rhythm of his breathing. He refused to give in to half a lifetime of testing and touching and deprivation. Indeed, Little Red knew how to fight the good fight. Even at the boiling point, Little Red's response would be to hold his hands in prayer like the good little boy he was.

Because good little boys never cum.



After a particularly grueling day of being tested by the kind priest, Little Red sat at his desk for some recreational bible reading. Unfortunately, the lingering breathlessness from the Reverend's testing seemed only to get worse. Little Red tried to resist the sinful longing that the day had brought him, but it was truly hard... as was his throbbing virgin cock. 

The boy's hands did not dare touch the virtually explosive region beneath his shorts, so he instead tried to occupy himself with an emergency chastity prayer while his rigid boynail twitched and drooled.

Little Red's dilemma did not slip beyond the knowing gaze of his mother, however. To (surely) distract his mind from carnal desires, she decided to give him a menial task to occupy his time, and perhaps it would ease her sweet little angel's curious restlessness.

Having made a serving of her sweet milk tea earlier in the day, she said to Little Red, "Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been very lonesome. Bring her this sweet milk drink, and this little jar of honey."

Little Red was an obedient boy. Upon hearing his mother's wishes he set out immediately to go to his grandmother, who lived in another village.



As Little Red passed through the woods that stood in between, he was met by a Mr. Amison Wolfe.

This stranger was at first drawn to the scent of the erotically charged youth. There was a light sheen of sweat coating the child's tender body, and there was a growing stain of precum that rested atop those thin tented shorts.

And oh my... Mr. Wolfe had a very great mind to eat the boy up, but he dared not create too much noise, because of some woodcutters nearby who may be jealous and steal his prize.

Walking over to the boy and wrapping an arm around those slim, hooded shoulders, Mr. Wolfe asked Little Red where he was going with a gentle squeeze.

The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and talk to Mr. Wolfe, said to him, "I am going to see my grandmother and carry her some sweet milk and this little jar of honey."

By this time, Mr. Wolfe had slipped his roaming hand underneath Little Red's arm and was now caressing the adorable boy's sensitive midriff and ribs.

"And how far off from these woods lives she?" inquired Mr. Wolfe. His fingers danced over Little Red's trembling skin.

"In the village a slight distance away, it's the first house by the windmill," answered nave Little Red. With a slight husky tone in his voice, he added, "There's still a long ways for me to walk."

The stranger picked up on the child's wistful acknowledgment of his body's need, well evidenced by the still-drooling pricklet inside Little Red's shorts. It was clear that despite his mother's best wishes, the furious sexual heat within her son's loins were now burning as hot as ever.

And this Wolfe was determined to fuel the fire.



The Wolfe slid his fingers underneath the hooded shirt and inched his way to Little Red's nipples. And in the same way the old Reverend would tease the boy, Mr. Wolfe ran gentle circles that spiraled gradually closer to the center of Little Red's tender nub. And when the devilish stranger would finally touch a nipple ever-so-gently, the adorable boy would let out a small chirp of reluctant pleasure.

Indeed, this was the day for which the kind priest had prepared Little Red. It was the day where the boy would be forced to confront the sinful, decadent callings of his base desires. It was, in every respect, Little Red's moment of reckoning.

In theory, the years of careful "preparation" and grooming should have yielded a boy immune to even the most artful and precise stimulation. But in practice, Little Red was not immune to this expert seduction. Little Red, in fact, was actually more susceptible than he otherwise would have been.

With merely one short day of the reverend's rigorous testing, the average boy would have been a quivering wreck against the Wolfe's sensual feather-light touches.

But after so many years upon years of such endless fondling and stimulation, of desperate boyish need without the mercy of a single release, it soon became abundantly clear to the Wolfe that this charming Little Red Riding Hood stood hardly a chance.



With the crushing weight of so much sexual tension bearing down on his young body, Little Red's lithe body squirmed in erotic anticipation. His breathing became heavy and irregular. His prick was leaking faster than he could ever remember, his chest was barraged by electric touches, and his face was flushed hot pink from the subtle exertions imposed by the insidious Mr. Wolfe.

"It is in the stars that you should take a pause from your duties," the predator whispered
into the boy's ear. "For we both know that you can not take even one more step."

Mr. Wolfe planted a soft kiss just below the boy's earlobe, and Little Red let out a peep of arousal. Weakened, Little Red leaned his weight against his new lover. A pair of strong, hairy arms wrapped themselves around the child's trembling body, ready to capitalize on this precious sign of weakness.

With a subtle grope with his other hand, Wolfe sized up the young package and then rubbed it through the sheer fabric. The moist silky fabric rubbed exquisitely against the horny boy's cock. The Wolfe used a finger to lightly trace the length of Little Red's erection, upon which the boy's hips bucked with involuntary arousal.

Sliding his hand down from the boy's erection to his trembling svelte legs, the Wolfe made wicked use of his light ginger touch to make loops along Little Red's highly responsive inner thighs.


It was too much for the lad to endure! The charming tyke moaned through his soft, pretty pink lips. His addled mind was drenched quite thoroughly in sex. There was no more hope, no more escape, no more kind priest to praise his efforts. For the first time in his life, Little Red was being used by one who actually planned to make him cum. This was no mere practice, not some tortuously empty foreplay.

"I have the relief for which your body screams," he offered. The hapless boy withered feebly.

Wolfe's mouth drew a seductive, hot breath along the shivering boy's neck. He gingerly scraped his sharp teeth along the tender skin and licked it with his tongue.

Seeing tremendous results, the Wolfe bent lower and peppered kisses down the boy's chest and stomach. With a twinkle in his eye, he turned Little Red around and lightly planted a trail of kisses along the shivering spine. The child's hips twitched uncontrollably - Little Red's small tight body crumpled onto the soft forest ground.

Practically salivating at the sight of the feast before him, Wolfe bent further downwards and continued planting kisses on the boy's overloading body. With a smile, the Wolfe laid a smooch on the boy's tailbone and then pulled off those thin little shorts. Now with nothing more in his way, the Wolfe parted Little Red's soft round cheeks to reveal a winking, quivering treasure nestled in between.

"You are truly a beautiful little lad," crooned the Wolfe, licking his lips before he sucked the sin from Little Red's flesh.

The Wolfe slithered his fiendish tongue down the crevice of Little Red Riding Hood's parted cheeks.

The boy's erection twitched furiously the good priest had never touched him back there!

But Little Red was too consumed by lust to protest, and the Wolfe was well aware. The predator licked delicate circles of saliva around the boy's twitching rosebud. The tip of his tongue searched out the weakest parts of the sensitive winking pucker. Then, once it seemed the boy could writhe no more frantically from the sensations, Mr. Wolfe slithered his long tongue deep into Little Red's yummy, hungry hole.



Things seemed quite bleak for poor Little Red. With a warm, slimy tendril worming around inside his sensitive rump, it seemed as though Wolfe were penetrating him into his very soul.

All those years of training, of careful preparation and delicious suffering had gone to waste. This devilish animal of a man knew exactly how to undo the civilized safeguarding of Little Red Riding Hood's steamy aching flesh.

As one can imagine, Little Red was particularly nave in affairs of the body. His mother and the good Reverend both agreed that it would be best to ensure his chastity through ignorance. But with every flicking, darting, swirling motion of the tongue that penetrated his ass, Little Red learned that he was very close to coming indeed.

But while his gradual deflowering of Little Red was proving immensely successful, it was perhaps too successful. The loud gasps and moans the boy was making rekindled the Wolfe's concern about somebody else overhearing him.

So, the ever-cautious Wolfe reluctantly pulled his tongue from Little Red's needy lustful hole. With a frustrated sigh, the addled boy collapsed pathetically over his basket upon his lover's retreat.

What a waste of a good opportunity - he should have prowled at a safer part of the forest. But he would have his lovely meal yet. A pensive grin grew on the Wolfe's face as sinister thoughts raced in his head about a newer, safer, and even more beautiful plan of attack.



One minute, Little Red was being ravished by new, untold pleasures in his bumhole. But the next second, he lifted his pretty little head with great effort and noticed with dismay that, although his ravished hole was leaking a steady stream saliva, there was nobody there behind him.

"Could that perhaps have been a dark spirit?" mused the foolish lad. "And could it be... that I have vanquished it?"

Having completely forgotten the truth of his predicament, Little Red beamed with thought that he had emerged victorious from his seductive encounter.

"I really am a good little boy!" he thought, as he pulled up his shorts from around his knees.


Little Red moaned with a slight twist of his hips when the soft fabric rubbed against his straining erection, but the significance of his excitement was drowned out by his delusions of moral wholesomeness.

And even though each step he took still threatened to send the simmering boy over the edge, his chest beamed with pride at having resisted the oh-so-luscious urge to cum. He couldn't wait to tell the Reverend when he got back!

But in the meantime, the scantily clothed boy staggered through the forest towards his grandmother's home. His shorts were sopping wet and his red riding hood would tickle his nipples and skin with each gentle breeze.

So far in the boy's day, it seemed, there had been much difficulty. Not only had Little Red woken up with a fierce erection that simply would not go away, the Reverend also happened to be especially enthusiastic and severe in his ministrations. The Reverend had said that he was growing weary of being too soft on the boy, and indeed it seemed to be true. Little Red had reached the point of sensory overload only five minutes into the training regimen, and it only got worse from then on.

Little Red had even fainted four times, but the Reverend wasted no time in reawakening his pupil and then teasing those soft sensitive nipples until the boy wanted to scream. And of course, scream he did, for Little Red was sweating and drooling onto the sacred stone floor of the church while his tortured pecker throbbed with waves heat.

Just thinking about it was enough to make Little Red weak at the knees and stumble a total of three times as he finally neared his grandmother's house.

Curiously, the door to the cottage was already wide open. Calling from the doorsteps, he cried, "Grandmother? This is Little Red Riding Hood here to bring you some tea and honey."

"Little Red Riding Hood, you say," mused his grandmother's voice from inside the cottage. "Come in, come in."

Little Red walked inside and looked around until he saw his grandmother waiting for him in her plush bed. For some reason, thought the child, his grandmother looked... different.

Meanwhile the grandmother, seeing him come in, said to the boy, "Bring the milk tea and the little jar of honey, and come get into bed with me."

Little Red brought his items and got into the bed. He was greatly amazed to see how his grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said, "Grandmother, what big arms you have!"

"All the better to hold you with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what big legs you have!"

"All the better to thrust with, my child."

"Grandmother, what big hands you have!"

"All the better to pleasure you with, my child."

But it was the next observation that caught Little Red off-guard: A huge, thick erection that stood angrily above a pair of exceptionally hefty sperm-filled testicles. Little Red Riding Hood unconsciously licked his lips with ambiguous desire.

"Grandmother... what big genitals you have!"

"All the better to fuck you with... my child."

And, with these words, the wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate him all up.



Lunging onto his prey, the Wolfe grabbed the horned up, willing boy and kissed him passionately on the lips. The confused but sexually primed boy tentatively kissed his lover back.

Little Red, consumed by the warm and surprisingly welcomed embrace, swooned in Mr. Wolfe's strong arms. His knees gave out fully beneath him, and his body went limp after a day of untold sexual excitement. All the boy could do in his ungodly state of arousal was to pant like a bitch in heat and go along with the ride.

Mr. Wolfe ran his fingers over Little Red's entire body and was exceptionally satisfied with the boy's responsiveness. He grazed his hands over the soft milky skin and could only imagine the tingles of pleasure that wracked the boy's body. Then, the Wolfe decided to pick up where he left off in the woods and slipped two fingers into Little Red's hole, which was still wet with his own spit.

Little Red let out an adorable squeak from between his rosy red cheeks. His lust-addled mind was swimming in ecstasy. Wolfe's long fingers became a blur as they pistoned in and out of his ravenous sphincter and made beautiful new feelings course through Little Red's entire being.

Wolfe turned lad over until he was facedown on the bed. Swiftly the boy was fondled, tweaked, stroked and fingered, and there was nothing that Little Red was able to do but wince cutely while his vulnerable body was exploited for its pretty sexual treasures.

When it became clear to Mr. Wolfe that Little Red was finally ready to be eaten, he licked his teeth in anticipation. Pulling the shorts down just enough to expose the boy's trembling rosebud, the wicked Wolfe plunged his cock into the slick, sexually primed virgin ass before him.

And indeed, it was the unforgettable sensation of a thick, steamy cock making its first penetration that was enough to finally, finally push poor Little Red Riding Hood over the edge and into delicious, boyish orgasm.

And moreover, it was only when the boy finally came, after a lifetime of wait, that it became clear what the results of the Reverend's unique regimen truly accomplished.

Far from developing an immunity to horniness, the boy had instead grown an increased capacity for arousal which yielded the most delicious and explosive cums indeed, as the Wolfe savagely pounded his spear into Little Red's hungry cunt.

The simple fact is, if Mr. Wolfe were to pause his savage deflowering of the innocent boy below him, Little Red would have begged and screamed for more, abandoning his pretense of chaste civility. But instead, Little Red's consent was honored as an unspoken truth that paved the way for his unbridled sexual deviance. Indeed, it could only be described as mercy that Wolfe did not stop and wait for Little Red to beg, for he certainly would have, and there would then be no doubt at all to his shame.

Little Red's body spasmed again and again while his jaw dropped, causing his soft lips to form a circle of pleasure. Both had lost count of how many times the boy came, but there had been at least one a minute while the Wolfe fucked his new bitch.

The boy's tight sheer shorts were now sopping wet with Little Red's first, second, third, and umpteenth loads of juvenile cream. No matter how the boy may have misinterpreted the outcome of his first encounter with this skilled and sensuous spirit, Little Red's failure was made exceedingly clear by the cummy mess in Little Red's shorts.

In a brief recognition of irony, Little Red reminisced that his mother had chosen the color pink for his shorts so that they would symbolize his innocence and purity. But now, they only served as a lewd, pornographic emblem of Little Red's spoilt chastity, collecting in a small puddle at the tip of his tented fabric while Little Red's face was planted into the bed by his dominating expert fucker.



Sadly, there was no longer anything the poor child could do to regain his lost honor. Despite his many preceding orgasms, Little Red was jolted by maddening sparks of sheer pleasure with even the slightest motion of the Wolfe's thick, veined cock. Although he would try to push the invader out, this would only intensify his own pleasure as his disobedient body refused to cooperate. But the worst of all is that everything that was happening to him felt so, so, so good.


Little Red piteously let out a pleading whine of denial, hoping to go back to the better days when his carnal needs had never been unleashed. "I'm... mmhh... n-not dirtyy... ohhh... mmhh..."

"But you are dirty," replied the wicked creature. "You are anything but a good boy. Good girls cum with cocks deep inside them. But good little boys... good little boys don't cum like girls..."

Blushing, covering his ears in futility and writhing his ass on a hot beating cock, the fucked boy came again when the Wolfe teased his nipples.

"Tell me Little Red, did you just cum like a boy... or did you just cum like a good little girl?"

Moaning, Little Red tried to shut his eyes and hide from the shame of his own newfound lust. But Wolfe was having none of it.

"You... you've been cumming as much as your little red body can cum. Your breath is husky and labored, and your scrumptious young body smells of sex."

And then, Mr. Wolfe let Little Red's squeals and squirms of delight serve to testify against his own deluded words. And as he instinctively lifted his rump in the air for more attention, Little Red did not know what to do as the bedrock of his moral identity was pounded away with every thrust, every squeak of pleasure, and every gliding thrust of manly cock into his eager hole.

"Cum like a good girl," whispered the Wolfe.

And Little Red Riding Hood obeyed. He came, blissfully and repeatedly and loudly and helplessly. The boy's tight flesh was no longer his own. It was a slave for the stronger, harder, and manlier flesh snaking deep inside of him.

Having long ago fallen from grace, Little Red's arousal was magnified tenfold by his submission and vulnerability, the knowledge that the Wolfe could do anything he wished to his pretty, slender body.

"Yess... you feel sooo good, so sexy and hot, don't you," taunted the Wolfe as he licked Little Red's earlobe. "You just can't get enough of this big, throbbing meat inside you."

"Cum like a good girl."

The Wolfe's firm rod thrust deeply again into the squealing lad's warm hole. Little Red shivered in perverse delight, his own pecker swelling in the wake of another luscious burst of ecstasy.

However, this time he was joined by the Wolfe as well in achieving release. The experienced creature grasped his toy's hips and plunged in as deep as he could. Little Red, of course, could feel each and every rope of thick cream that splashed inside of him, and his hips bucked down against the throbbing man-cock in his own youthful orgasm.

But most importantly, this snapshot of utmost submission was a testament to the Wolfe's overpowering sexual energy. It claimed the boy's body as his own, injecting his thick devilish nectar straight into the innocent child's helpless soul. Little Red let out a weak sob of defeat and overwhelmed pleasure.

"I'm not yet finished," barked the Wolfe as he finally withdrew from the boy's spent body.

Mr. Wolfe reached over beside the bed and retrieved the jar of honey in Little Red's basket, pouring the thick sweet syrup over his sperm-covered cock.

"Lick it clean," commanded the Wolfe. "It would be a shame to waste your mother's treat."

Little Red at first hesitated, but the Wolfe simply ran a finger down the boy's spine and then straight into his hole. Buckling his knees, Little Red let out a moan, and the Wolfe slipped his sweetened cock in between the boy's soft pink lips as they parted in lustful appreciation.

While the boy instinctively swirled and flicked his tongue against the knob in his mouth, the Wolfe gently eased the boy onto his back and poured liberal amounts of expensive honey onto Little Red's rock-hard nail. The glistening, sticky goo formed a potent mixture with the boy's precum as it dripped over his young sack and flowed over - and into - his ravished cummy hole. In fact, so much had dribbled between his legs that the slick crevice of his cheeks would squish audibly from the cocktail of honey and seeping cream.

"When I raise you as my own, your story will be famous. But you won't be famous for being a good little boy," taunted the Wolfe. He reached over with his long arm and eased two long fingers into Little Red's soft hole, cupping one of the pert cheeks with his palm. "They might not even know you were a boy... all they'll know... is that you cum like a good girl."


The mere sound of that phrase hit the helpless boy like a truck. Shocked into the orgasm his mind had been trained for, Little Red's body was once again in the climactic state of arousal it had endured all day. He moaned in defeat as his weakening legs splayed and parted for more.

The Wolfe tantalizingly dripped the warm honey over the boy's inner thighs, reveling in the lad's subtle twitches of delight. With a mouthful of cock, Little Red groaned in pleasure when the Wolfe covered his cute navel with honey and then dripped thin threads of the thick condiment over the juvenile's puffy and needy nipples.

It was thus that Mr. Wolfe spent the remainder of the night teasing his boywhore to new levels of shameful lust. He fed the boy his honey-covered adult sperm and the boy would slurp every drop into his belly, all while whimpering in reluctant satisfaction.

Sometimes though, in fleeting moments of clarity, the broken and distraught Little Red would even whisper in a small voice, "I-I'm... sup-supposed to be a g-good little b-boy..."

But the Wolfe would just laugh his wicked howling laugh. And then, all while whispering dirty sayings in the pretty creature's ear, the Wolfe would fuck the youth's precious ripe little bottom hard and deep in exactly the right way. And so, it was in this manner that the Wolfe would always prove Little Red Riding Hood's lifelong self-image to be wrong.

Because this naughty boy loved to cum.




The next morning, there was no Little Red Riding Hood returning home, or the next day.

And on the third day of the lad's disappearance, Little Red's mother and the Reverend made a trip out to the cottage. They could not find any people in the rooms. After careful inspection, however, the two adults found the boy's tired and weary grandmother locked up inside the closet.

But of the innocent, adorable boy they once knew, there was nothing that remained except a tattered pair of rose pink, cum-stained shorts.


Moral:  Children, especially attractive, well bred young boys, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say wolf, but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young boys at home and in the streets and in the woods wolves such as the one that is this boy's new father, lover, and master for life.

And it is these gentler, clever wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.


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My other stories on Nifty are:


  "To Do Robbie"  (young-friends)

      [aka "The 'To-Do Robbie' List"]


  "Guardian Stalker" (adult-youth)