Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2013 23:04:59 +0000
From: auto42376091@hushmail.com
Subject: My Best Birthdays Ever - Chapter 5

My Best Birthdays Ever
By Antonio Green
Auto42376091@hushmail.com

Bb, Mb, incest, ws, mild scat, non, cons.

Author's note: I love writing these stories, but it's more fun knowing
someone is reading them. If it weren't for Nifty, no one would be able to
read them. So, keep Nifty strong and vital. Please donate. Nifty needs your
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Best Birthdays Ever -- Part 5
My First Best Birthday

From Chapter 4

[Patrick speaks]

So now you see why I don't think the asshole's really my dad. And why when
I started raping you, Trent, I got scared. I don't wanna be like him. I
don't know if I can control myself with you. I like you so much but
something about you makes me want to hurt you like I get hurt. So there
ain't no way I'm ever going to fuck you again.

Sorry. Just ain't gonna happen.

***********

We all sat there silent for a long time. Jamie, Chrissy and I had lost our
hard-ons. But the funny thing was, as awful as Patrick's story had been,
his four and half inches stood straight out from his tummy and it was
leaking a lot.

I touched his shoulder, "Can I at least suck you?"

Patrick looked at me, his face blank. He nodded `yes,' and I slithered over
between his legs and slurped his cock into my mouth.

Now to Chapter 5

The next week was both wonderful and very frustrating. But it led to a big
change in my life that has brought amazing things.

Until Patrick and Jamie raped me that first time, I was totally alone in my
dirty little world of playing with my rear end and my pokey toy in front. I
was sure I was the only boy in the world -- let alone in my school -- who
poked stuff up my poo hole. But the rape changed that because I learned how
much I loved doing that nasty stuff with other guys who were as nasty and
dirty as me. And if you want to know the truth, I not only loved what we
did together, I loved the guys I did it with although I didn't recognize it
for what it really was.

Christian and I did everything after the tell-all day in the Club House. We
sucked. We fucked (and called it that). We even played pee games in his
back yard, pissing on each other naked. We did it there so the Club House
wouldn't stink more than it already did. Jamie and me also sucked and
fucked each other. He only played pee games once. I could tell he liked it
because his boner was so so hard. But I think he was embarrassed. Right
after I'd pissed long and hard into his mouth while Chrissy was sucking him
and he came super hard, he pushed me away and said, "This is stupid baby
stuff" and stormed off. But Chrissy tells me they still do it in the
bathroom almost everyday.

The frustrating part? Well, I gave Patrick a blowjob right after he told us
about his so-called father and how the man pimps him out and abuses him. He
refused to do what I really wanted -- fuck me. Maybe even do it like the
first time when he raped me, which is what I really wanted. Don't know
why. He sure came a lot that day. I loved the way his squirt tasted and
wanted more. But I wasn't to have it. Patrick pretty much avoided me at
school and he was never at the clubhouse when Jamie, Chrissy, and I
were. Chrissy told me that he was still doing stuff with Jamie. They were
fucking each other regularly. And once Patrick even fucked Chrissy. Chrissy
told me he was super gentle and used tons of lube stuff. It hurt, but
Chrissy didn't let Patrick know.

That made me really sad. I guess jealous, too. I wanted Patrick to like me
and I really wanted his cock back inside my poohole fucking me. But like I
said, he avoided me. A couple of times I saw him at school I said, "hi."
And he pretended I wasn't there.

I hated him! I loved him! When I'd take the fat Sharpies to bed, I'd always
pretend it was him. And when I'd gotten my feelings a couple of times with
the Sharpies, I'd always suck "him" clean. But the hard plastic was not
what I wanted in my mouth.

One evening about a week before my eighth birthday, we had shredded
zucchini for part of the dinner. I got an idea. Daddy and Uncle Mark were
done with dishes, and I'd gotten ready for bed. I went back into the
kitchen and checked out the fridge. YES! There were five thick zukes. I
took 3 and slipped them in my pocket of my robe. I knew I'd need something
slippery, too, so I put some butter into a Ziploc bag and snuck that out,
too.

I couldn't wait to go to bed. I kept thinking about what I wanted to do. My
dickie was so hard it was sticking out my PJs. My robe mostly hid it, but I
know Daddy and Uncle Mark must have seen it. I'm surprised they didn't say
something.

I went to bed a little earlier than normal. Daddy asked if I felt okay, and
I said yes, just a little tired. I kissed Daddy and Uncle Mark good night
in bed then lay there waiting until I felt it was "safe." I slipped out of
bed, got a towel I'd hidden in my closet -- just in case -- and got
everything ready for the game. In my mind I called it a "stuff fest" and
pretended it was a big contest at the County Fair. The contest was to see
who could get the most zucchinis in their asshole (I used that word),
pushed in by the cock of their friend. Patrick was my imaginary friend, of
course.

It was getting on towards June, so the zucchinis weren't the scrawny winter
type. They were good sized. I took off my PJ bottoms, buttered up the first
one, and pushed its round end against my hole.

Fuck! It hurt. But I couldn't disappoint Patrick. I let his imaginary steel
hard dick push the vegetable slowly into me. It took awhile and it did not
feel very good. But I was still so frigging hard that I knew if I touched
myself I'd have a dry cum. I didn't want one yet. I wanted to make sure I
got all three in before doing that just in case I fell asleep afterward.

Just as the woody stem got close to my hole, I greased up another zuke and
used that to push the first one all the way in. All the time I was doing
this, I was whispering encouragement to my imaginary friend. I got most of
the second zucchini in me when all progress seemed to stop. It's like I'd
hit a wall. At just under 8 years old, I had no idea what the inside of my
poop chute looked like. I thought maybe I'd gotten to the end. Maybe I was
even up in my tummy. Then it occurred to me that maybe I'd just run into
what comes naturally in my poop chute -- my poop. So I pushed a little
harder and I could feel whatever was in my way crumble slightly and give
way. It was poo! So I kept on and managed, just barely, to get the second
zucchini in.

I was determined to win the imaginary contest by getting the third zucchini
inside. I pushed it against my hole as hard as I could. Tears trickled down
my cheeks. I whispered to my invisible lover, "I'll get it in. We'll win
the poopoo fucking contest, Patrick." About an inch of zuke number three
worked into me then slipped. Something weird happened inside, but I wasn't
exactly sure what. I tried pushing more, but nothing was moving down there.

My tummy was aching something awful, let me tell you. But I also felt
fuller down there than I'd ever felt before and my dickie was about to
burst. I'd originally planned on pooping everything out into the toilet
once I'd finished, so I slipped my PJ bottoms back on to my knees and
curled up in bed. I grabbed the nail sticking up along my tummy and began
yanking on it while I poked frantically in my hole with the zuke that stuck
out. It wasn't zucchini or a contest anymore. Patrick was fucking me and I
begged him to "rape me hard" over and over until I got a dry cum that about
ripped my head off. I kept going. Pulling. Poking. Squeezing. Begging
Patrick to "Fuck me. Rape me. Rape me hard."

I lost count how many times I brought myself off that night but I must have
exhausted myself. I fell fast asleep.

When I awakened, it was Friday morning. I had to get ready for school. My
tummy hurt a little and I felt like if I didn't get to the bathroom
quickly, I'd poop myself. I ran into my bathroom -- usually it's just
mine. Daddy and Uncle Mark's is downstairs. But for some reason, Daddy was
there naked toweling himself off. Now, we're a family that doesn't worry a
lot about clothing, so I'd seen both my men without their clothes many
times. And like I told you before, I'd even seen my Uncle Mark with what we
now call a "firmy" -- that state between completely flaccid and starting to
harden. I'd never seen Daddy like that, though, at least not until that
morning.

"Hi Sweety," Daddy said. "Uncle Mark has a visitor so I'm using your
bathroom. Hope that's okay."

I guess I nodded, but I couldn't speak. Not with the most beautiful piece
of man hanging inches from me. All of a sudden I forgot how much I wanted
Patrick's dick. I saw what I really wanted right in front of me. I started
to reach out but stopped before Daddy could see.

"I gotta poo, Daddy," I squeaked. "Sorry." I sat down and strained. A
little fart but nothing else. More strain. It hurt. I could feel the
fullness wanting to push its way out but nothing. Nothing. All the time I
was gawking at my Daddy.

He must have noticed because his cock started to go from firmy to really
firm to poking out in front.

"Sorry, Chief. That happens sometimes when I'm drying it."

"Can I touch it, Daddy?"

He laughed. "No, son. You can't. Sorry."

"PLEASE," I pleaded. "I want to see if it feels like mine when it's hard."
We both glanced down to between my legs. I was hard. Super hard. "You can
touch mine. Please!"

I think he was considering it. Then a dark look crossed my Daddy's face. He
said, "I have to get to the hospital, Champ. Your Uncle's not on duty
today, and he's going to watch you when you get home from school. But he's
got a special friend with him now, so don't bug him. I've got cereal set
out for you. You get ready for the bus on your own. Okay?"

And it was over. Daddy finished drying off with his cock hard and pointing
straight out. It was the biggest cock I'd ever seen. That's not saying much
since I'd only ever seen his and Uncle Mark's before. But as he left the
bathroom, we both knew that something new had opened up.

I strained a few more times and still nothing. I wiped and flushed even
though there was nothing to wipe and nothing to flush.

Patrick was sitting two-thirds of the way back on the bus when I got
on. The way he looked at me, I knew he didn't want me anywhere near him, so
I sat behind Mr. Olson, the driver. By the time I got to school my tummy
felt a little rumbly but not too bad. Chrissy met at the bottom of the
stairs. His brother and he always got a ride to school from their
mom. Patrick pushed by us like he'd never met us in his life.

"Why's he so mean sometimes?" I asked.

Chrissy answered, "He doesn't want the other kids to know he's friends with
a couple of little kids. He's been pretty nice to me at my house but if I
was on fire at school, I don't think he'd piss on me."

That made me laugh, but it also made me sad.

"Why's he hate me?" I asked. "Is it cuz of what he did to me?"

"That's the funny thing," Chrissy answered. "He doesn't hate you. You're
about all he talks about with Jamie and me. I think he's got it bad."

I looked quizzically at my friend.

"You know. I think he super likes you. Maybe even `likes you, likes you.'
You know what I mean?"

I did know what he meant. He was saying he thought Patrick might even love
me. Only that didn't make me feel any better.

"You're coming to my birthday party next week?" I asked. "You and Jamie?"

"Yeah. Looking forward to it. The sleep over, too. Can Jamie sleep over?"

"Sure. It'll be fun. Hey, you think Patrick would come if you told him I
wanted him to come?"

Chrissy shrugged. "Don't know. But I can ask. I'll let you know."

Throughout the day, my tummy started feeling worse and worse. I had to
raise my hand three times to be excused to go to the bathroom. But as much
as I tried, nothing would come out when I was on the toilet. My teacher
stopped by my desk right after the last time and asked quietly if I felt
okay. I just shrugged.

Uncle Mark was home when I got there from my school's afterschool
program. He told me Daddy was going to be late at the hospital with
rounds. So Uncle Mark and I had dinner together. I wasn't hungry and only
picked at my food. When he asked if I felt okay, I lied and said I'd had a
lot of snacks in the afterschool program. I felt bad about lying, but I
didn't want to say what was really bothering me.

Daddy got home after rounds a little before eight. I told him I was tired
and wanted to go to bed without a bath. By then my tummy was really, really
hurting. I brushed my teeth and tried to poop again. No luck.

Daddy and Uncle Mark came in to kiss me goodnight. Uncle Mark had the
morning shift at the hospital. Since Daddy was a doctor, he spent a lot of
time at work, but he always made sure he had Saturdays off so he could
spend time with me. Uncle Mark was a nurse there, so he didn't have to work
the long hours Daddy did. But even though Daddy was away a lot, I never
felt he didn't spend good time with me.

I lay in bed for a long time, my tummy aching fiercely. Eventually, though,
I did fall asleep to the sounds of Daddy and Uncle Mark talking and
laughing.

Then, suddenly, I was awake, sitting straight up in bed. It was like my
stomach was going to burst. I knew what was wrong. The zucchinis were still
inside me. I was sure I was going to die. I had to get them out. I had to
get Daddy to help me. I didn't want to tell him what'd happened but I knew
I had to. I slid gingerly out of bed and eased myself down the stairs.

I heard some noise coming from `s and Uncle Mark's room, but the roaring in
my head muted the sounds.

Clutching my tummy, tears running down my cheeks, I pushed the door open.

A few weeks earlier I would've had no idea what was happening. But now I
knew. Daddy and Uncle Mark were naked on their bed, Uncle Mark kneeling.
Daddy was behind him, moving rapidly and grunting. Uncle Mark was saying
nasty things like Jamie and Chrissy and I would say when we did the same
thing. In an instant I knew what they were doing. I didn't care. I hurt too
much.

"Daddy," I cried. "Help me. I hurt so much!"