Adrian marches on the sidewalk, carrying his inseparable attaché-case. For everyone in the cozy neighborhood who has seen him before, he’s this kid or the strange kid, the one looking more like a miniature accountant than an eleven-year-old boy. Today is no different. The forecast of infernal heat did not stop him from wearing corduroy pants and his favorite turtleneck sweater.

As he trots steadily, coming back home, the sun gleams on his golden hair. Beads of sweat roll along the small of his back and trickles into the crack of his tight little butt. Every now and then, the tip of his index finger pushes on the wire-framed glasses sliding down his nose.

Around the next corner, an unexpected sight irks the young boy more than the heavy humidity. Rowdy kids play in the street, chasing a soccer ball and dreams of glory. He glances at them, hastening his steps, hoping to be ignored. His greatest wish is to magically become invisible at that very instant.

Early in his schooling, he actively sought the company of other children. For a long time, a longing for a male presence in his life lurked in his soul. This deep-seated desire incited him to get close to boys that were hardy and mature. But they all rejected him. The repetitive turn downs left him confounded and bitter. He renounced finding an explanation to their aversion.

Now, at age eleven, Adrian understands it very well. He is the skinniest kid at school, the quiet bookish type. He will never be like them, outgoing and good at sports. All that he wants now is to be left alone.

It’s not his lucky day.

One of the players of the improvised soccer game pauses in midstride. The malicious boy spots him. As if unable to repress himself, the boy opens his mouth and shouts for everyone to hear, “Hey Adrian, did your mommy dress you up again?”

“Nooo,” Adrian whines without slowing down.

“Come back. Where ya going, Ade-riane? Cat got your tongue?” the cocky boy persists.

“Bleah!” Adrian retorts, going faster.

The laughter of the kids roars behind his back. It doesn’t really bother him anymore. He knows he’s better than them. He’s smarter. Ironically, for this reason, he also knows the verbal abuse he endures isn’t entirely groundless. For instance, whenever schoolmates push him around and call him a ‘momma’s boy’, he cannot deny their astuteness. Ever since his dad fled the responsibility of a baby, he lives alone with his mother. How else can taunts portray him if not a momma’s boy?

Entering the house through the side door, Adrian shakes his head to forget all about the encounter with the other kids. In his bedroom, privacy comforts the solitary boy. He opens his attaché-case to take out his latest find. The bounty consists of two leather belts with stylish engravings acquired for a quarter each at a garage sale. Quickly, his hand dives in his pants pocket to get the key to the drawer of his study desk, his treasure trove. Before he turns the lock, his eyes scan around like that of a spy. No one can ever find out what’s in there…

His mother once was suspicious and questioned him. “Why is this locked, Adrian? Are you hiding something?” she asked him with a menacing tone.

“It’s the safe for my stamp collection. It’s gonna be worth a gazillion when I’m old!” he delivered the prepared answer, praying it would be enough.

While his mom analyzed the situation, he cleaned his glasses with a tissue. The attempt to outsmart her knotted his guts. She could always tell when he lied or disobeyed. She’d learned everything about human behavior as a psychiatry professor. He did not exhale, awaiting her verdict. 

The lines on his mom’s face finally softened. A smile formed on her lips. “Yes, I guess we better hide this goldmine from thieves,” she concluded, convinced of the honesty of his response, thinking mistakenly he was still innocent.

For it is true that Adrian keeps in the locked drawer the stamps his grandparents gave him at Christmas. But there are other things as well. Private things a little boy doesn’t want anyone to see. There are pictures in there, old photographs of James Dean and River Phoenix, also pages from his mom’s lady magazines. Mostly men’s underwear ads meticulously cut off with an x-acto blade so that their disappearance would not be noticed.

Underneath the pictures, Adrian keeps a diary. Every day, he compels himself to write something in the small journal. Usually a new dirty word or anything he judges has corrupted his young mind. When puberty began to affect his body, he started to measure and record the length of his penis, soft and hard. Lately, he jots down bush growth. The latest entry reports five wispy hairs.

Lastly, there are two books in Adrian’s secret drawer. They are the most precious items. He made the wonderful discovery amidst the hundred novels on his mom’s bookshelves. The tattered paperbacks are translations of the works by Marquis de Sade: 'Philosophy in the boudoir' and '120 days of Sodom'.

Lounging on his bed in white briefs, he read them numerous times – well, the good parts. The graphic descriptions of depraved acts were his crude introduction to the taboo world of sex. As the level of his arousal increased, he humped the mattress, rubbing his stiffy on the firm surface. He devoured many pages until he couldn’t withhold the urge to pull down his underwear and fist his rigid little pecker to a vibrant climax.

It was at that time that Adrian also commenced visiting the public toilets of the nearby park. Something he did frequently, to satisfy his growing curiosity for dicks. At the urinals, he selected the one next to another little boy, a teenager or a man. He pretended to pee. His eyes shifted sideways to catch a glimpse of the various forms of the male appendage.

This observatory study went well, until a grizzled man figured out his spying game. “Come over here,” the big guy said, grabbing him by the elbow and guiding him forcibly into a stall. “Please, mister, I didn’t mean to,” Adrian defended himself, trying to yank his arm away, soon realizing he would not succeed against the determined fellow. When the door of the toilet stall closed behind them, he struggled again to push the monster away. The aggression made him hyperventilate. His glasses steamed up.

The gruff stranger suddenly hooked a muscular arm around his thin chest and held him in a bear hug. Adrian squealed as a large hand plunged inside his undies. Its coarse fingers kneaded his buttocks. “Shit, you got a great ass…” the man mumbled.

“Don’t!” Adrian pleaded, his chest heaving. “I I-”

“Stop squirming! Isn’t it what you wanted, lil’ faggot?” the man scolded him. “Here we go,” the big brute sang producing a huge erection out of the fly of his trousers. “Go on, darling, don’t be shy… jerk my cock or I’ll shove it up your asshole!”

For an instant, Adrian remained still in the prison of graffiti-covered partitions. The man grabbed his hand and placed it on his outstretched cock. “Jerk it,” he said.

Adrian compressed the piece of meat gently. The large tube of flesh seemed so mighty in his little fist. Before he even began to move his hand, the man groaned. Ropes of cream flew all over. The old goat cursed under his breath and fled, packing up his erection.

For another instant, Adrian continued to tremble from the scare of his life. However, he found it had also been terribly exciting. His penis had stiffened during the assault. The stink of piss, cologne and sperm floated in the air. It was all so dirty.

This incident left an indelible mark. For several days, alone in the house, the boy stripped naked and masturbated making up scenarios in his head, all of which featured the abominable man. His little dick got so stiff that the foreskin retracted entirely. Sometimes, he picked out a carrot in the fridge and spat on it. Recalling the words of the brute, “I’ll shove it up your asshole,” he slipped the carrot deeply into his anus, imagining it was the man’s cock. With his hand wrapped around his hard-on, the young satyr cultivated the pleasure. The pace of his strokes was measured. He postponed his orgasm wanting to enjoy the fantasy for a long time.

As the need for relief became unbearable, he tugged faster to get off. His feet curved inward and his skinny body shuddered. He watched his boner twitch with each burst of electricity coursing through it.

In the end, he collected the translucent pearl of sticky cum on the tip of his glans and brought it to his lips. Then, still lost in the haze of afterglow, his hand went to his silky little balls. He caressed them, catching his breath, grinning.

* * *

   Many times, he thinks about it at school. It usually happens during Mrs. Wainwright’s fifth grade science lessons. Her monotonous voice just puts him in that mode. “Wake up, Adrian!” she squawks noticing his mind has drifted. But minutes later, the blond dreamer loses interest again. He thinks about the two belts in his secret drawer. He thinks about strong men, bad men with thick arms. It makes his skin hot. It makes his crotch tingle.

Ever since he has rented the horror film ‘The Boogey Man’, he’s become aware of the dark desires that have been sleeping inside of him. One scene from the movie triggered the hunger he cannot satiate. It is the scene in which a young boy is gagged and bound to a bed.

When Adrian first saw it, he hopped on his bare feet and knelt closer to the TV in his pajamas. He removed his glasses and pushed rewind to replay it again. The images of a blond child like him, tied-up, made his pulse race. A spontaneous empathy for the captive prey on the screen engulfed him. He pictured himself in his place, terrified, at the mercy of the boogey man. This imaginary substitution aroused him.

On the days when his brain can’t focus on anything else, Adrian rushes home after school. In his bedroom, he undresses and takes out the leather belts. The first one goes around his ankles. He secures them together tightly. “You’re my prisoner,” he talks to himself. “Don’t even think about escaping...”

The second belt is for his wrists. He makes sure to keep this bound loose a bit before stretching on the floor. Then, he wriggles, nude and tied-up, imagining he’s locked up in the trunk of a dark sedan driven by sinister gangsters. In his mind, he yells ‘Please don’t kill me! I’ll do anything you want. Please!’

A fire burns in his groin as the scenario unfolds. The voluptuous waves of his impending climax make his erection throb. He strains to shuffle his thoughts and avoid cumming. Alas, his mind brings him back to where he was. To the point when the wicked men unlock the trunk of the car. His mind knows exactly where this is going. It knows exactly how it’s supposed to end too. Among his array of preteen sex fantasies, the strongest is to be kidnapped, but also raped.

A certain Saturday, the teenage girl in charge of babysitting duties calls ill. Adrian overhears his mom hire a sixteen-year-old boy from the community center to replace her. The tall dark-haired teen named Lucas shows up with his Latino buddy, Diego. Upon seeing them a shiver shoots up the boy’s spine. Clad in snug flannel pyjamas, he conceals his gladness to spend the evening with two potentially dangerous young males.

After the departure of his mother, both youths sit on the sofa and stare at the TV, throwing glances at him. The attitude of the guardians dampens Adrian’s enthusiasm. He recognizes the look in their eyes. They think he’s a weird kid, some sort of nerd.

“So what do you wanna do?” Lucas asks.

“I dunno. What do you wanna do?” he retorts.

Soon, Adrian finds out their idea of fun for an eleven-year-old boy is rough housing. On the carpet of the living room, he pants parrying the attacks of the strapping teenagers. They manage to twist and fold his body. They laugh hearing his yelps of pain. The power they exert during the wrestling game enraptures Adrian. He purposefully flings his bare feet in their faces. He bites their calves expecting they will grapple him into submission. But, the big boys roughly push him away, “Fuck, be careful!”

He changes strategy. As Lucas pins him down on the carpet, he wraps his limbs around the teenager. The next second, he giggles and delivers a quick peck on the boy’s cheek. “Geez, you’re fighting like a girl now,” Lucas says. “I think he’s getting horny,” Diego remarks.

The wresting continues for long minutes. Adrian beams because the hands of the big boys constantly grip him and spin him around. The fabric of his pajamas is so thin that he feels almost naked. The teens’ playful mistreatment makes him dizzy with glee. Sometimes, he eludes them to increase the level of excitement a notch, shouting, “You can’t catch me, dummies!”

The buddies hunt him down in the house and easily make the capture. When they tickle him and pinch his buttocks, his hope of being tamed by the two visitors reaches a peak. Unfortunately, an urge to pee sends him racing to the bathroom.

While he tinkles, the hushed conversation of the boys comes to his ears. He cranes his neck to listen.

“I got a hard-on… did you get one too? He hears Diego say.
- Yeah, a bit. Lucas says.
- Man, have you have seen his lil’ culo? Hmmm, ever wonder how it would feel like?
- What?
- You know, Diego pauses. Fuck him.
- You’re crazy. He’s just a kid…
- Exactamente. Don’t you wanna try it just once? I know this dude who did in the butt with his lil’ bro. He said it was ammazzing. C’mon, let’s do it, both of us, here. What d’you say?
- I dunno, man. It's really risky. What if he blabbers to someone?
- No way! Are you blind? He’s a lil’ sissy homo. He’s gonna love it!”

Coming back to the living room, the conversation has frightened Adrian deliciously. He adjusts his glasses and grins. The lively battles on the carpet resume. To his dismay, Lucas and Diego remain chaste. Then, they all watch TV. His mother comes back at eleven. He wakes up having fallen asleep.

Both teenagers say their goodbyes. Adrian throws them a half-smile. The idiots have missed the opportunity to take advantage of his willingness to be molested.

   Frustrated by this failure, Adrian attends the old YMCA’s free swim period. He tells his mom he’s going to the library around the block. But he goes there instead. In the locker-room of the indoor pool, the solemn silence of anonymity and furtive glimpses of wandering eyes enchant him. On weeknights, the swimmers are mostly men alone. He’s the only kid in the group of hairy grownups.

As he changes into his swim trunks, some of the adults ogle at his nudity lustfully. He delights in wondering what they are thinking. These new adventures fuel his fantasies. Images get etched on his brain. The danger of his illicit conduct doesn’t even cross his mind.

Then one evening, just before closing time, the sports center is nearly deserted. He shares the common shower with a lone man. The calming effect of the warm water running down his smooth skin makes him forget he’s in a public place. Without his glasses, he cannot really see the stranger twenty feet away. The blurry figure appears harmless, a middle-age nobody with an average silhouette and brown hair.

Out of the blue, the stranger walks in his direction looking all around. Adrian’s heart begins to pound. The man’s flaccid dick is long and circumcised. His huge balls dangle. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look he tells himself but he can’t stop staring. The closer the odd individual gets, the more dread overwhelms the young boy. Also, the more his vision improves. He notices disquieting things about the man, like a snake tattoo near the patch of his wiry pubic hair. Staring at the wall, he pretends nothing is going on.

“Get down on your knees,” the stranger says with an authoritative voice.

“Uh, I’m just-” Adrian starts to say and flinches as the reply comes like a slap, “I SAID, get DOWN on your FUCKING knees!”

The stern phrase spurs him into action. He crouches down.

Just as his knees hit the tiles the man’s stream of piss lands on his face. It is a fierce jet and the smell of it wafts up his nose. He shuts his eyes and bows his head. The urine cascades down his chin like a waterfall.

“Open your mouth,” the man commands.

Again, he executes the request swiftly. Piss spatters on his tongue. Efforts to block the entrance of his throat don’t yield any result; the acrid liquid still passes through the invisible barrier. An instant of panic unnerves the boy while he gags. Nonetheless, he keeps his mouth open, afraid to disappoint the stranger. Meanwhile, the man whistles as if he’s taking a long leisurely whiz in a toilet bowl.

Soon enough, Adrian discovers that the stream can go straight down his throat. It seems as if time is standing still while his belly fills up with the man’s piss. After a couple of minutes, the pressure of the flow declines to droplets. He only opens his eyes much later, when the footsteps of the man have faded completely in the distance. For a moment, he remains in this subservient position, shivering from a mixture of terror and exaltation.

Afterwards, no matter how much he tries to shake it off, the stranger’s big circumcised dick keeps polluting his thoughts. The very next evening, he returns to the YMCA to look for the vile individual. He wants to see the bold stranger again, the man who made him feel so dirty and good. He wants to confirm that he wasn’t just a silly creation of his lurid imagination.

Amidst the many swimmers, Adrian spots the stranger in the fourth row of lockers. Their eyes lock. An intense stare unites them. He senses that the man is on the prowl. Yet, he turns away and goes to the pool, playing hard to get.

After a few dives, the wait is gnawing at him. Why hasn’t the shark taken the bait? A million questions pop into his head. Did I do something wrong? Maybe, I didn’t stare long enough? Skipping on his toes, he hurries back to the locker-room to get answers. But the man is nowhere to be found.

Dejected, the blond boy puts his clothes back on lazily. He grabs his duffel bag and leaves. Outside, lightning strikes descend from dark clouds on the horizon. The pouring rain glues stray bangs to his forehead. Crossing the parking lot, he trudges until a car blocks his way. The passenger door swings open. Lightning flashes illuminate the inside.

Transfixed by the random flares of light, he stares at the driver, clutching the handles of his duffel bag. The long-dicked man with the snake tattoo is behind the wheel. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t just stand there, hop in!”

Adrian remembers his mom warned him never to get into a stranger's car. It makes the invitation all the more appealing. He climbs on the seat, consenting to be taken wherever.

While the car rolls on the streets of the residential neighborhood, the rain plinks on the hood. Relaxing classical music oozes out of the radio speakers. Inexplicably, Adrian doesn’t experience any fear going with the man four times his age. It seems that this should happen, as if the convergence of their destiny is written in the sky.

With casual glances, he scrutinizes his new friend. The tall fellow has curly brown hair, a square jaw and piercing gray eyes. 

“What’s your name, Mister? He asks.
- Uhmm, the man hums. Victor. It sounds distinguished. Yes, Victor is nice, wouldn’t you say?
- I guess.
- What’s yours?
- Adrian.
- That’s a nice name too.
- I guess.
- I think you’re very special, Adrian. You passed the test. Just by looking at you, I can tell that you’re smart…and you’re cute too!
- Thanks, Adrian looks out the window, blushing behind his glasses, unable to fathom that he possesses any charm.
- So, how late do you usually stay up? The man inquires to dissipate his awkwardness. Are you tired?
- No, Adrian says, but I have to be home by nine or else my mom will freak out. I told her I would be at the library.
- Good move! Mommies can worry for no reason.
- Uh uh, Adrian mumbles and nibbles his lip. Aren’t you gonna tie me up?
- You’d like that?
- Yes.
- Okay, the man says. His finger pushes on the door lock button. All four go –click- and he turns his head. For now that won’t be necessary…” 

During the rest of the drive, Adrian confesses his craving for reckless endeavours. The man tells him again that he’s special. The attention the little intellectual receives makes him euphoric. His new freedom from years of solitude and programmed human contacts lifts his spirit. He feels like he can tell Victor anything, all of his peculiar secrets. That he will not be judged for it. His heart flutters wondering what Victor has in store.

Of course, the young boy never anticipates being naked in a bed for an hour, the object of a man’s perverse desires. He submits to everything. The most sexually inappropriate things an adult can do to a child. Victor deploys an unforeseen strength out of his slim frame. His cock expands to nine inches when erect, almost a weapon, certainly a member much too large for an eleven-year-old kid. Adrian manages to climax once, when his wrists are tied to the headboard. Then, he lets the man use his body, for a long time. He’s exhausted during the final humiliation. Victor’s cock floods his mouth with abundant sauce. He chokes on it hearing him mutter, "Hmm, eat my load! There you go…all for you… Yeah, swallow this good ball juice…”

* * *

   At noon the following day, Adrian’s throat is still sore. Every bite of food has an aftertaste of the man’s salty sperm. He limps a bit, his anus not healed from the stretching of the massive intrusions. Undeterred by the brutality that Victor demonstrated, he doesn’t think twice about getting on his bicycle and going to the stranger’s home.

Every Sunday afternoon, they meet again. Adrian enjoys being taken out to the movies or the mall. He likes to be under the man’s spell. Victor decides everything. Where they are going to snack and what activity they will do. Victor teaches him how to lie to his mom in an effective manner. Victor also tells him what to wear. Usually, skimpy red shorts and a tank top. “Don’t forget to put on your sandals,” the nice man reminds him. “You know the ones I like, the girly pair with lots of buckles.”

Even though Adrian appreciates the gifts and the ice cream cones during their outings, he relishes more the small gestures. How Victor drapes an arm on his shoulders and draws him into a hug. Simply, how the man listens and laughs at his silly anecdotes or his farts.

But despite the evidence of Victor’s affection, the insecure boy becomes increasingly aware of the need to confirm his perception. During a drive home, he lets it come out, “Do you really like me?”

“What? Of course, I like you,” Victor replies immediately. “You’re a good kid, Adrian. You’re the best! I never thought I’d find someone like you.”

Reassured, the young boy offers a wide grin in gratitude, showing two rows of little white teeth. Fingering the lining of the car seat, blissful tingles pass through his skinny body. He shivers as if the breeze tickled him. The words dance in his head.

And so every week, Adrian looks forward to Sundays and seeing the two Victors again - the Jekyll and the Hyde. He accepts that before he can be with charitable Victor, he has to go through the other Victor. It is a prerequisite.

He certainly doesn’t mind that the other Victor enjoys hearing the squeals made by his high-pitched voice. Nor that the other Victor insults him and loves to see him writhe.

Their encounters must abide by a specific script that he learns by heart. The favorite of the other Victor is called 'The Boy Scout'. Adrian takes a shower and prepares himself. He puts on the uniform that the man purchased for him; khaki shorts, a beige short-sleeved shirt and a plaid neckerchief. Already, the thought of his submission brings him much trepidation. He mounts his bike and goes knocking on Victor’s door, smiling, fully cognizant of the vicious things that will happen to him.

The curly-haired man greets him with a grunt in the entrance hall, dressed in a red velvet bathrobe, gray eyes boring into him.

“What do you want? The imperious adult demands.
- Hello Mister, Adrian peeps, fidgeting in his sandals and raising his bag of goodies. The scouts are doing a fundraising campaign. Do you want to encourage us? I’m selling chocolate bars and calendars and-
- Wait, aren’t the scouts a bunch of homos? Victor snaps.
- No, we do a lot of interesting stuff!
- Yeah, like fiddling with your little pricks... Victor sniggers. Is someone with you? There are so many sick people out there.
- I'm all alone! Adrian says proudly.

It is then that the man grabs him by the wrist. He fumbles his bag as one of his toothpick arms is twisted behind his back, then the other. It may be acting but his heart gets into it. He genuinely tries to flee the assailant, squirming and begging, “Let me go! No! Please!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Victor slaps his face and removes the velvet belt around his bathrobe.

In a matter of seconds, Adrian feels the plush yet strong ligature loop and tighten around his wrists.  He quivers from his own vulnerability, savouring the moment. The man’s hand presses on the nape of his neck, bending him over until his blond head is at knee level. At that point, the young boy knows there’s no turning back now. His khaki shorts drop to his feet, then his underwear follow. His testicles are clutched from behind and pulled hard.

“Do you know what’s gonna happen to you, lil’ fuck?” Victor says.

“Nooo,”

“You’re gonna be my whore, now. And if you want to keep your balls, you're not gonna tell anyone about this. Understood? Am I making myself crystal clear?”

“Yes, Mister,” Adrian whimpers, sniffing up tears of pain while his little nuts are crushed. “Angggnnggh!”

“That’s my good lil’ whore,” Victor says, forcing him to kneel.

As Adrian goes down to the floor, the sides of the man’s dressing gown separate revealing his dripping cock. His eyes stare at the hardening member, fascinated by how it inflates grandly. He watches the man fondle his cock to gain full virility. Then, the circumcised knob moves towards his lips. It comes fast, eager to enter his mouth. “Suck it,” Victor hisses between clenched teeth.

Adrian knows exactly what is expected of him. However, with his wrists tied behind his back, he can only bob his head awkwardly to slide his lips on the immense cock. He does just that, taking as much as he can. The diameter swells in his narrow mouth. His rosy cheeks bulge out.

“You gotta suck that cock harder, whore,” Victor complains, latching on to his blond hair and invading his throat. The huge erection obstructs the passage of air. Adrian gags on the meat because the plowing of his mouth is too abrupt. Saliva shoots out of his nostrils as he tries to breathe and suck at the same time.

“You can take that big cock, trust me,” Victor repeats cheerfully, pumping half of it down his throat with firm thrusts. The man looks directly into his eyes, oblivious to his discomfort. After a while, he adds, “There you go, you’re getting the hang of it, boy...”

But just as he gets used to it, Adrian sees the large phallus come out. The strong hand gripping his hair drags his flimsy body to the couch likes it’s a puppet. He remembers the lines of the script and hollers, “You’re hurting me! Argh! Stop, please!”

An impeccable performance, he thinks, although the violence is real. The aggressor bends him over the arm of the couch. Right away, he feels two fingers probe his butthole to verify that he has lubed up with Vaseline, a requirement of the scenario.

“Oh I’m gonna have fun with your cute little shitter!” Victor raves. “You’re gonna get it real good!”

As soon as the bloated dick head obliges his sphincter to cede the way, Adrian shudders. The violation of his most intimate opening gives him his first orgasm. Victor grips his shoulders, cramming more meat into his combative hole. “Anngggh! Aooww!  Aoooww!” he cries out, even though his protests won’t be given any attention.

Everything happens so fast. Once more, with his wrists tied behind my back and his forehead on the cushion of the couch, he cannot do anything to elude what is to ensue. The submissive position sets afire the paths to his secret garden while the man begins to sodomise him.

“Ohhhrrr, your little ass feels so gooooood,” Victor says, exhaling the sentence in triumph. “Hmm, that’s what children are good for…”

The blunt pain and the pangs of lust blend inside Adrian’s feverish body. With every passing moment his butthole opens up, welcoming the huge chunk of rigid flesh. The thick rod slips away and returns, faster, harder. The man keeps pushing another horrendous inch inside of him.

“Uh! Ugh! Ughh!” he squeals.

The man grips his hips and harpoons into his anus without a second of respite. For a start, his little butt is ruthlessly plowed at a sustained rhythm for ten minutes straight. All of a sudden, the copulation escalates to a frenzied pace. Totally possessed, Adrian melts. His body becomes jelly under the barrage of lunges. The repetitive assaults of the erection and the constraint of the velvet sash around his wrists propel him to the edge of another orgasm. He drools. Shrill squeals spew out of his mouth.

“LOUDER! Much louder,” Victor growls. “I wanna hear you scream while you take that big cock up your ass!”

“UH! UH! UH!” Adrian laments louder.

“You like it, uh?” Victor grumbles. “Tell me you like that big hard cock, whore…”

“Yesss,” Adrian whines.

The man surrounds his waist with solid arms and raises him. His sandals leave the floor. Legs spread on Victor’s thighs, impaled on his fat cock, he squeaks like a rodent. Every time the man’s pelvis bangs against his bony buns, the buckles on his sandals make a clicking noise. Victor doesn’t give any consideration to the fact that he’s a delicate eleven-year-old kid. He feels the man’s cock ram up his butthole again and again and again. His best screams echo in the house, “ANNGH! ANNGHH! ANNGHHH!”

“FUCK! I’m gonna cum in your ass! Ohhhh fuck, I’m gonna CUM!” Victor shouts.

“YES! YES!” Adrian yells, feeling the first blast inside of him. He cannot subdue his own orgasm anymore. The spurts of love gushing into his rectum set off a tornado. Suspended in the man’s arms, muscle spasms wrack his contorted body. Wails of relief soar out of his throat. He indulges in the white hot pain, his anus clasping tightly around the pulsing cock.

Victor moderates his spearing over the lapse of a minute. For a while, they stay fused together, basking in the sweltering heat of the ebbing pleasure. Adrian feels so right in the powerful embrace, his innards full of semen. Then, he is lowered back on the floor. The big cock slips gently out of his backside.

“SHIT that was hot!” Victor always says, kissing the top of his head. “I love you so much!”

At that moment, Adrian waits for the man to untie him, his body aching all over. In spite of the soreness, the heights of his happiness make him feel light-headed, almost giddy. He grins widely. Because he knows Victor would never think of running away. Because he knows Victor will assuredly be with him, for always, his new daddy.

 The End.