Date: Wed, 10 Jul 2019 22:49:25 +0000 From: Tiao Wu Subject: Here Cums the Neighborhood Part 20 This writing contains sexually explicit material, unsuited for readers under the age of 18. If you are underage, live in an area that disallows the reading of this type of material, or are offended by homosexual content, please do not read further. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, settings, and ideas featured in this series are based on fantasy. Any character that resembles someone in your reality is purely coincidental. If you enjoy these stories, please donate to Nifty so that we can continue reading. Feel free to email hjk7359@hotmail.com to give feedback or constructive criticism. Please enjoy. ********************************************************** Chapter 20 - New Normal After my mother's announcement for mayor, my returning safely home, things didn't return to normal as I had hoped. The media was in our house asking for interviews. I never ended up seeing the news or the articles about me. I guess I just avoided the attention. Even though the next day was a school day, I stayed home. In fact, my mother made sure that I stayed home for the rest of that week. I was under her constant watch. When there weren't news people around, she was coaching me how to respond to every question. "Always put a spin on safety. How you wished our town was safer. How after this...thing that happened, you can't feel safe in your own neighborhood," she explained hastily as she curled her hair. "But I do feel safe," I responded monotonously. "No you don't," she said. "You are a frightened child, and I'm your mother, and I'm going to keep you safe. That's how it is, Sebastian," she said, clicking off the hair curler, before going to set up the living room for another interview. "So, Sebastian, how do you feel about being the son of a mayoral candidate?" one interviewer asked. "It's cool, I guess," I said. "I think she'll make me safe to be in my own neighborhood," I shrugged awkwardly. "She does seem to be focusing on safety quite a bit," another asked. "Do you feel unsafe after everything you've been through?" "Not really. I could be safer, I think. We all could," I responded distantly. "What is one way that you think your mother could make Birchwood safer?" another asked. "...I don't know," I shrugged. "Better police?" I heard from my mother about that comment. "No! The police are good! They are the ones who saved you! We need curfews, stricter safety in schools, better--" On Thursday, my teachers came over to visit. Mainly to check to see if I needed anything before coming back to school. Ms. Ensalada brought enchiladas which I thought was funny. Mr. Flores and Coach George showed up together, shortly before Ms. Lewis. It was weird having my teachers in my house. I liked Mr. Flores and Coach George, and Ms. Lewis seemed compassionate. We all played soccer in the backyard, Mr. Flores's idea. He used to play in high school, so he was really good. Coach George played goalie, so it was tough getting past his giant wall of meat and muscle. Ms. Lewis and I played against Mr. Flores together. Watching Ms. Lewis trying to chase after the ball in her dress, over sixty years old. I couldn't help but laugh. Mr. Flores and I would go toe-to-toe and weren't afraid to get rough with each other. My shoulder would check into his chest, his hand would grab my hip. I wanted to score against him, but I couldn't keep up. I kicked the ball to Ms. Lewis and watched as both teachers pretended to keep playing but eventually allowed her to score between the two trees we were using as a goal post. I was doubled over laughing. It was a great distraction from a hectic few days. Dad always seemed out of reach. He was working more than usual. I only saw him in the evenings just before bed. Not even at dinner, where we just heated up something from the meal train that was sent to our house. Lots of frozen lasagna, casseroles, and Ms. Ensalada's enchiladas. On Friday, my mother told me I would be returning to school on Monday, so I needed to have all of my things ready. She also told me that I would be meeting with a counselor every other day, during Health on A-days and during athletics on B-days. "But, I can't skip athletics!" I said. "I've already missed so much practice!" "It's not forever, Sebastian. Just until Christmas break." "Oh my god," I grumbled. The lack of privacy, the fact that my life was still being turned upside down, the idea that I would be having to talk about my experiences and my life with someone, was overwhelming. "When your father gets home we also have something that we want to talk about with you, too," she explained. I trudged up to my room, eager just to be by myself for a moment. My room looked as it did last week before I went to school. A week after I was kidnapped by Daddy, or Dave Hammond, as I discovered. I laid down on my bed and found the journal that Lisa gave me as a souvenir. I had written in about a third of it. Documenting all the sex I was having. August 28, 1989 "...today I got fucked by Coach Scott and Mr. McCook. It was awesome how neither of them knew... September 8, 1989 "...man is my ass sore. Uncle Dale, Woody, and Earl have huge cocks! I could have taken them all day. All at once! Luckily Dad still wants to be their friends even after... September 15, 1989 "...tomorrow is a swim meet and I have to prove to Coach Scott that my ass is worth it..." It was strange rereading those entries. How driven by sex I was. As I sat and thought, I found that for once, I wasn't thinking about sex. I wasn't scheming my next plan of attack when I could get dick again. September 15 was the last entry I'd kept. I decided to write once again. September 29, 1989 "Well, these last few days have been some of the craziest things I'd ever experienced. Last Friday, I was kidnapped. Yes, kidnapped! And guess what? It was the guy who's dick I'd sucked at Louie's! He somehow found me and apparently thought I belonged to him. It was really, really, really, scary. But at the same time, kind of exciting. Sure, he fucked me. He even gave me an orgasm so intense, I couldn't see straight. I still feel like there's a piece of him inside of me. Whether it be his cum, or whatever, I feel responsible for what happened. He couldn't control himself with me. The way he looked at me, all zonked out, it was like he was on drugs. My mother is running for mayor, and I think she's doing it because of all the attention we're getting. I think she's using my story to get publicity. In fact, I know that's what she's doing..." KNOCK KNOCK I slapped the journal shut and placed it under my pillow. "Come in," I called. My dad entered the room, looking at me with a pained expression. He limped across the bedroom floor. "D-dad? Are you okay?" I asked. "Yeah, yeah," he sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "I'm just sore from working. Is your mother home?" "I think so. I just talked to her. She said I have to see a counselor. Can you tell her that I don't want to? I feel fine." "Sorry, bud. I can't," he said, resting his hands on his eyes. "Why not?" I asked impatiently. Dad wasn't able to answer. He smelled like labor. Thinking about that body resting on top of mine, pounding my ass, erasing the memories from Daddy's cock sounded amazing right now. "Son, your mother and I..." he took a deep breath, swallowing down his anxiety. I looked at him in anticipation. "...we're splitting up. Probably for good," he said reluctantly. "Wh-why? What?" I asked astounded. I had a ton of questions. "What do you mean?" "She thinks it would be best for your well-being if I wasn't here," he explained tersely. "Wh-...no, I wanna live with you, Dad," I whined. "I hate her!" I yelled. "Shh," he said, bringing me close to him. My head fell against his chest. "It's okay." He ran his hands along my back, like he used to when I was really young. "Why is this happening, Dad?" I asked tearfully. "Your mother has always been a hard-worker. When she wants something, she does everything she can to make it happen." "Well then I'll just be the worst. I'll make her want to get rid of me, and then I can go to you!" "Son, it doesn't work that way," he explained. He told me how there would be a court appointment and how because he was the one who was supposed to pick me up, early from school no less, that it was his responsibility that I was kidnapped. "But that's crazy! It could have happened at any time," I shot back. "I know. I know." Some silence stretched between us. "She's always been like this. She doesn't want me to be happy," I pouted. "She's using me to become mayor. You know that right?" I said. "I don't know, Seb," he explained. "When you went missing..." he paused. "My whole world was turned upside down. Your mother's, too," he added. I rolled my eyes. "I didn't know what to do with myself, and I couldn't imagine my life without you." He sniveled and wiped his nose with his forearm. "Seb," he said finally. "I taught you...about sex. Had I not...I don't know," he trailed off. "Maybe none'a this would've happened," he said. "But, I'm glad you taught me. Dad when you're fucking me?" "Shh!" he stopped me. "When you're fucking me," I whispered. "I feel powerful. Like I can do anything. I don't want that to stop," I said sorrowfully. "Right now," my dad added, "your mother wants you and I to still be able to visit." "To visit? You already have a place?" I asked. "It's a trailer outside of Birchwood. Until I can get something better," he said. "A trailer? That's so stupid, Dad!" I said incredulously, as though he should see through all of this. "How are you letting this happen?" "Because I don't want to lose you again!" he snapped. "I know...that under your mother's eye...you'll be safe. We'll spend the time with each other the best we can," he finished. "I'll be here another couple of days, but by Monday, I'll be moved out." All of this was happening so fast. It didn't seem right. In fact, I was starting to get paranoid that my mother was doing this on purpose. She knew that I would be more drawn to my dad during her campaign, so she needed him gone. Or maybe she never loved him. I wasn't sure. "You need to get some sleep, son," my dad advised. "Promise to be good," he said before standing up. I looked him in the eye before reluctantly saying "I promise." "Good night, Seb," he said before flipping off the light and shutting the door behind him. As I lay in bed thinking about how quickly my life was changing, I couldn't help but feel angry. I was angry at my mother. Despised her. I wanted to ruin her life but didn't know how. She was becoming a national name--"The Mother Who Found Her Son". I was angry at myself, for thinking with my hole, my cock, my mouth, rather than my head. I currently had an erection, but I wouldn't touch it. Almost to spite myself. I decided that I was going to remain focused from here on out. No more sneaking off to get dick. Dad and I would see each other alone, and we could do all the fucking we wanted. I was in this mess because I was greedy, and I had to change. * "Alright, class, let's open our copies of Where the Red Fern Grows to page 29. Sebastian, would you mind reading the first page?" I was in Ms. Lewis's class, doing my best to be a good student. Of all my classes, I was the most behind in hers, and after seeing her trying to connect with me, I knew I had to make a better effort. "'It was wonderful indeed how I could have heart-to-heart talks with my dogs and they always seemed to understand. Each question I asked was answered in their own doggish way.'" I started. "'Although they couldn't talk in my terms, they had a language of their own that was easy to understand. Almost as easy as the language of sex. How the sensation of a nice rich cock plunging inside of you can say so much.'" I cut off my voice. The class was busting out laughing. "Mr. Smalls, what is this you are trying to pull. Read what is on. The. Page!" "U-uh, I am!" I said mortified. "'When Dave Hammond was fucking my brains out, it was much like that very same language. There was no room for yes, no, maybe, or hello. Just harder, faster, and more.'" I was puzzled and baffle "Mr. Smalls!" she called again over the class. I pulled the book away and saw my erection fully towered over my desk. Precum was seeping from it like a fountain. "Put that away this instant!" "I-I...I can't find my pants!" I cried. "That does it, I can't do this anymore. I'm bringing in my substitute," Ms. Lewis threw her hands up and left the room. The person who replaced him was... "Hi, baby," a voice I knew all too well. "D-daddy?" I looked around and all the students were watching to see what was going to happen. "Baby, why don't you step up to the front of the class," he said. I stood up and walked to the front, using my copy of Where the Red Fern Grows to cover my dick. I turned to face Daddy and he was totally naked, his dick splayed out for all to see, bouncing at his waist. I turned to face the class, shocked to see that they were replaced by all the men who'd fucked me. "Baby, I think the class could learn something about sex. Why don't we teach him?" "Fuck 's ass!" Uncle Woody called from the back of the class. "Fuck him deep!" Mr. McCook encouraged. With each heckled remark from the audience, Daddy's cock grew bigger and bigger until, I could have sworn it was the size of a fire extinguisher. "Yeah, give him that big dick," Coach Scott pounded his hand on the desk. His dick in the other hand ferociously masturbating. "Baby, I think they need a demonstration," Daddy said as he laid on top of Ms. Lewis's desk. His heavy dick wagged back and forth like a metronome. "Think you can sit on my dick for the class, baby? Be the star student?" he asked salaciously. "DO it, Smalls!" Mr. Sands yelled. "Fuck his ass!" Dr. Amar shouted. The class slowly melted into an audience of flesh and dicks slowly approaching to get a better look. Before I knew I was hoisted over Daddy's dick. My wrists were coiled in the ropes that had been used on me back in the hotel room. I felt myself being slowly lowered onto the total monster of a dick that Daddy was sporting. "I don't think he can take it," said Mr. Grisham. "Look at that ass stretch," Uncle Dale remarked. Slowly but surely my ass engulfed Daddy's dick. Looking down I felt like I could see the bulge of his cock protruding in my chest, prying its way into me. I felt my bones shocked by pleasure. Daddy rammed his tree trunk of a dick into me so far that I felt it behind my eyes. I swore I could taste it in my mouth. Daddy continued reaming himself into me, using me as a toy for his dick. "Look! Cum is seeping from his mouth!" "He's cumming! He's cumming!" "ERRRRRRRRGH!" * My eyes shot awake. My stomach and chest were drenched in cum, my heart racing, my skin electrified by whatever sensations this dream had conjured. I lay still. Regaining my senses and composure. I felt the cum on my chest, somewhat cold. I used my blanket to wipe it up and then threw the blanket at my laundry hamper. I tossed and turned in frustration before finally going back to sleep. Ignoring the ghost of sex was difficult. But I was determined to keep control. When I woke up, I saw my dad sitting on the edge of the bed. Sunlight was cutting through the busted blinds that shielded my windows, along my dad's shirtless body. "Morning, son. Happy Birthday," he said with a kind smirk on his face. "Wh...huh?" I responded still full of sleep. "You didn't forget your birthday? September 30th? 1976? You okay, son? I mean, TEENager?" he asked before jumping on me playfully, tickling my sides. "Gahahahah! Stawwwp!" I said giggling out of control. Dad's face was crazed with excitement, digging his fingers into my sides causing me to writhe and thrash against him. "Quit it!!" I bellowed. Dad continued finding all of my tickle spots, as his body crawled over me, and eventually, his waist was pressed against mine. Out of breath we stared at each other like this. Dad's hands gripped my wrist. The lower part of his stomach pressed against the base of my ribs. My cock throbbed against my Dad's bulge in his pants. It had been since Daddy last fucked me a few days ago that I'd had sex. It hadn't crossed my mind much until the dream that I'd had. Each time I thought of sex, I was instantly triggered by the idea that my hole caused a man's prison sentence. Then, the back and forth of "He should have been more responsible. Who kidnaps a child? You wanted it." It all just wore me out. But staring at my Dad straight in the eyes, I couldn't think about anything else but having his powerful body against mine. "Fuck," Dad whispered before lurching his face toward mine and pressing his lips against me. His tongue ferociously lashed around the wetness of my mouth. Dad's waist grinded against my body, naturally causing my legs to split apart, gripping against his solid hips. I held on to him, feeling the massive bulge in his sweatpants begin to harden, his cock, fully erect poking and prodding for an entrance. "Ehhhgh," he whispered taking a breath, kissing my neck and collar bone before finally--"Agggh," he pulled away in frustration, leaving me in a confused and delirious state of lust. "Wh-what's the matter, Dad?" I asked. "I...can't stop thinking about...what he did," he explained. "He didn't do anything that we haven't done, Dad," I explained. I left out the part where he made me have the most earth-shaking orgasm that I could remember experiencing, but that was beside the point. Daddy fucked me, sucked me, used my mouth, made out with my hole, just like many other men had before me. He was just selfish in how he was able to do experience it. Dad shook his head, catching his breath. "You know what?" he asked, closing his eyes. "We should go on a hike today," he said, peacefully. More peaceful and relaxed that I'd remembered him being in a long time. Someone always full of work. Dad pulled away from me and rested his hands on his hips. "That'll distract us," he said confidently, but at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if he was just trying to deny the built-up sexual repression that he'd been experiencing, masquerading his stress with the oncoming divorce. "Y-yeah, sure, Dad. That sounds fun," I said optimistically. Later at breakfast, Dad pitched the idea to my mother. "Absolutely not," she said dismissively. "I don't think I have to remind you that we have an important event here at the house today for M.A.T.H., Sebastian's role in that is crucial, and he's not going to be out wandering in the woods for who knows how long?" "Lori, the event isn't until six tonight," Dad explained. "It's nine o'clock. We'll be back no later than noon." My mother pretended to be writing down notes of some kind on her legal pad. "It's his birthday. Let 'm have some freedom." My mother clutched the edges of the counter in frustration. "One minute later than noon, and I'm calling the police," she said sternly. I smiled at Dad with excitement. I rushed upstairs to take a shower and get dressed into comfortable clothes. When I stepped outside the air was distinctly cooler which was refreshing after a long hot summer. I thought about how cold the water would be when I could finally go back to swim practice. Dad appeared wearing a wifebeater and sporting a camping backpack that he'd always take with us back when would go camping as a kid. "'Ready?" he asked. "Yep," I replied. We got in the truck and headed a different direction than normal once we left the neighborhood. I recognized the community pool where we had swim meets, but further past was a nature center, built for hiking, getting familiar with the natural flora and fauna of the area. Dad pulled into a gravelly parking spot and put the car into park. "Have you been here before, Dad?" I asked as we stepped out of the truck. "Yeah, once," he said, grabbing the pack from the truck bed. "When I went lookin' for ya," he said somewhat somberly. "Thought you might've run away here, for some reason. Near the pool." We began our hike down a dirt trail that eventually grew narrower and more overgrown. Long blade grass swayed in the brisk wind, the sky was a pale blue, the sun beat down on us as we pushed further and further into what was beginning to feel like the wilderness. Eventually we came across a downward hill that lead to a shallow creek that trickled with clear water. Water that was still warm enough to wade in, but still shocking to the touch at first. "Look, a crawdad!" I called. Sure enough, a bright red crawdad writhed in the muddy mixture of water and sediment. I used a stick to flick him back into the slow current of the water. Everything was at piece, and I felt like I could do anything. Even though it was my birthday, I was satisfied spending this morning with my dad, wandering through nature. "Careful there, Seb. That's poison ivy," he warned. "That root means that the soil's got some clay in it," he explained. "These tadpoles ought to have maybe two weeks of growin' still," he added. Dad had a ton of knowledge that he rarely shared with people, so I appreciated that he was opening up. As we pushed further into the reserve, we started exploring off the beaten path, my shoelaces riddled with sticker-burrs. There were no paths where we were, just trees that stretched toward the sky. The sun continued to grow higher in the sky, which only made the air warmer. I found one tree that was covered in carvings of messages that people had left behind. As I turned around the show my dad, I watched him remove his shirt. I always loved watching the moment when his arms were above his head, his chest stretched and his shoulders bunched up, and then when his arms fall, his pecs growing twice in size. Sweat glistened on him, like he was known to do. Nonchalantly, Dad shoved the sweaty wifebeater into the backpack that he was wearing and swung it back around his shoulders. I couldn't help but be distracted as we continued hiking deeper and deeper into the woods. For the most part, Dad was letting me be the lead, choosing where we wanted to go. I would check behind him, noticing his chest bounce slightly with each labored step on our own sort of beaten trail. Sweat beaded his stomach, shoulders, his forehead growing read from the sun. I eventually brought us to a hill that carried us through another thicket of trees. As we climbed the hill, my thighs burned with fatigue, but still, my curiosity pulled me like a leash. With each small plateau, there would always be just a bit more to climb. Finally, we reached the top. "Oof," Dad huffed setting down the backpack, resting his hands on his hips. "Let's take a breather." I stepped closer to the edge of the hill, admiring what we could see from the top. I stared at the decoration and color of diverse trees that stretched only maybe twenty feet from us, and perhaps a mile or so out the town that we were beginning to call our home. As I looked at my father, I couldn't help but feel as though we were the only two people in the world. No noises, distracting squabbles from my mother, just us. "Do you have any water?" I asked leaning against a somewhat smaller tree. "Yep," he replied, fishing out a canteen from the backpack. I drank it liberally. The temperature had to have risen at least ten degrees since us being here. Neither of us would be getting a heat stroke today, but it was definitely wearing on me. I handed the canteen to my dad. He took it and took a heavy gulp of water as well. "How's it feel to be thirteen?" Dad asked. I thought about it for a while. I knew that most thirteen-year-olds hadn't experienced the life I'd had yet. This particular day seemed special to me, but only because I was spending it with my dad. "I guess it feels the same," I shrugged. Dad stared off into the distance of the morning. His brown eyes shown like amber in the sun as he squinted with raised eyebrows. He reminded me of a hawk, scoping out the land before taking flight. Even though Dad had taken me places, physically, emotionally, and sexually, that caused me to grow substantially as a person, there was something still mysterious about him. I felt lucky to be one of few people in his life that he trusted. Not just as a son, as a lover, but as a friend. I hoped we would be able to stay that way for as long as possible. "Guess I never asked what you wanted for yer birthday," Dad quipped, leaning against the same tree that I was resting on. "Hmmmm," I thought long and hard. What did I want? I wasn't wanting to usually ask for things. For my twelfth birthday, I asked for a day at the lake. The year before, meeting one of the local musicians in our town. I guess I'd always seen experiences as more valuable than possessions. I glanced over at Dad. He was running his hand along his forehead, mixing his thin hair with his sweat. With every slight breeze, Dad's scent would waft into my nose, making it almost impossible to resist. Dad leaned over pulling on the cut-off shorts he was sporting, revealing a bit more of his hips and waist, the tan-lines that had formed over a summer of being outside. I considered what was going to happen once we reached October. Dad was moving out. I was going to get more focused on studying, trying to only get fucked my by dad when we would get to visit, however that was supposed to work. I gazed at my dad, a vision in caramel. Sex practically dripping off of him as we stood in the gradually warming day, at the tail end of summer. My dick twitched in my shorts as I continued fawning over my dad. "I want you, Dad," I said honestly. The wind swept my hair out of my face as I averted my gaze from him. "F-fuck, I want you, too, Seb," Dad said, hunching over, resting his hands on his knees. "Let's get outta here. Maybe we can get to my new place in time before we have to--" "No, Dad," I interrupted him. "I want you right now." I got to my knees, and reached for my dad's fly, and like a present, began unwrapping his shorts. Dad's white briefs were bright in the sunlight, but even still, I could see the darkness of my Dad's bulging cock beneath them. I fished out Dad's dick, and let it swing in front of my face. "Seb, are you sure that we should--MMMM!" Before Dad could let out that final thought, Dad's cock was in my mouth. It was mine. As I sank on Dad's dick, I felt it twitching and spasming in my mouth with excitement. "Errrgh, S-Seb...I don't...ungh..." I took in my Dad's dick with fervent excitement. Something about the open air, the fact that I'd been so withdrawn from having any part of my dad near me, was causing me to swallow and gag on my Dad's dick as though it were the last dick I'd ever taste. I whimpered happily as Dad's cock reached the furthest parts of my throat--salty, savory, perfect dick. "S-Seb...I-I..." Dad groaned, while running his hand through my hair. I glanced up at him, watching him check around him to make sure that the coast was clear. I was always so brazen and careless when it came to sex. Perhaps my days with Daddy caused me to rethink that. Having Dad's dick in my mouth, punching the back of my throat with the idea that anyone at any time could see us was almost more exhilarating that doing it in the principal's office with a lock on the door, or in Coach's office where we could be by ourselves. We were out in nature. No walls to hide us. "Uh...unnngh, Seb..." Dad grumbled, as a breeze began to pick up, tossing my hair to the side. I opened my throat, allowing my tonsils to graze against my father's shaft, encouraging him to stifle my breath as I sank deeper onto my Dad's cock. I felt his member pulse and twitch between my lips. "Mmmmrmmm," I moaned through my nose, finally savoring my dad's cock for the first time in what seemed like forever. The sun continued to beat down on us, causing my shirt to stick to my skin with sweat. I pulled away from my dad's dick to throw my shirt over my head, leaving it hooked around my neck. Dad took his slobbery cock in his hand and tapped it against my cheeks. I smiled, squinting into his eyes. I hooked my hands in the waist of Dad's jeans and pulled them down so that they began to slump to the earth below. My tongue lapped against Dad's cock whenever it got near my face. "Gahhh, yeah, Dad. Fuck my face with it. Don't hold back," I said. I opened my mouth slightly, and Dad punched his cock in between my lips, surprising me a bit. Over half of it plunged down my throat. "Mmmph," I groaned. Dad bucked his hips again, sending it deeper into my skull. My eyes rolled as Dad's savory meat clocked the back of my throat with each powerful push. Dad knew how I liked his cock. Long, powerful strokes. Letting me have the chance to enjoy every inch of him. Dad's balls swung against my chin as he continued thrusting into me. His hands gripped the back of my head, running his fingers through my damp curls. "Unnngh, Seb, I'm...I'm gettin' close to cumming. Errrrrrrgh," he growled. I continued bobbing my head up and down on his dick, eager to have a full helping of my dad's cum. "Mmmph, mmmmph," I whimpered excitedly. "RRRRRRRRRAAAAGH!" Dad bellowed, his hip made one last jerk before cum began surging against my tongue and the back of my throat. I thankfully gulped down each sweet helping of jizz, one after the next, as they poured down my throat. "Heennnngh," he groaned weakly. "Errrrgh, yeah son, take my cum." I took slow and sensual movements up and down my dad's dick, taking the entire length of him, milking his dick for as much cum as I could acquire before I noticed his knees begin to tremble indicating that he was over-sensitized to my mouth. "C'mere," Dad said, hooking his rough hands under my arms. Dad pulled me to my feet and began making out with me, his hand running along the bulge in my shorts. His movements were frantic yet purposeful. Dad pressed me against a tree with smooth bark. His forearm rested on my stomach. I watched as his dick swung in the wind, cum dripping to the dirt below him. Dad adjusted his footing before running his hands up the leg of my shorts, his fingers dancing along my bulge. "Nnngh, yeah, Dad," I said, my legs buckling slightly. Dad's hand gripped my penis, tugging it along the length of my shaft. Chills spread along my shoulder blades as I let myself rest against the trunk of the tree. Dad's other hand undid the snap of my shorts, hastily undoing my fly before letting my shorts fall to the ground. Dad tugged on the waistband of my underwear, already slightly translucent from precum. As Dad pulled off my underwear, a wad of precum flung at his face, causing him to flinch, before smirking and wiping it off with one of his fingers and tasting it for himself. My dick bounced up and down in the air, pointing straight at my dad's face. Without hesitation, Dad dove onto my cock, swallowing it whole with no effort. "Annnnngh!" I groaned thankfully; a smile spread across my face without me even thinking. Dad's lips twisted around my dick, and within seconds I could feel myself already wanting to cum. Dad gagged and sputtered wildly on my cock, his lips frothing My legs shook as I reclined against the tree trunk. "H-holy...D-dad, I'm already..." I whined. Dad didn't hesitate, he kept bobbing up and down on my cock. "Unngh, D-daaaaaaad!" I cringed and finally it was like my all the control I had in my body left at once, like a puppet having their strings cut. "RRRRRR!" I growled as my hips jerked into my dad's mouth, shooting cum inside of him. Dad tenderly continued slowly stroking my cock with his lips, before finally, he pulled myself from him. In an instant Dad spun me around so that my stomach pressed against the tree, and I heard him make a loud spitting noise, a splash of warm liquid landed against my asshole, which must have been my own cum. Dad's tongue surged directly inside of my ass, lapping up the cum that he just spit out. "Ooooooh, yeah, Dad," I moaned, hugging the trunk of his tree for support as my feet felt as though they were sliding under me. Dad's mouth was rough yet warm, wet, driving me crazy. His tongue snaked inside of me, further stimulating me after just making me cum. He always knew how to keep me going. The sounds of Dad's slurping meshed with the rustling of leaves and tree branches as a warm wind picked up around us. Dad ran his tongue up the top of my ass, slid his hands up my back, rolling up the back of my shirt, until he had a handful of fabric bunched up in his fist. "I wanna fuck you so bad, Seb," he grumbled in my ear. "Y-yeah, Dad, fuck me. Please fuck me, Dad," I whimpered. I spread my legs apart, welcoming the sensation of Dad powerful knob resting against my hole. Dad inched forward allowing his dick to easily make its way into my ass. "G-guhhh...arrrrgh," I grumbled through the initial pain. It had been a while since I'd felt a dick my ass, but as soon as Dad pushed through the first few inches that usually caused discomfort, it was like my ass sucked him inside of me. "Ahhh, fuck yeah," Dad whispered in relief. "I've been wanting this for so fucking long, son," Dad whined as he began fucking me from behind. I arched my back, allowing Dad to have a clearer path to my ass. Dad held my thighs as he took slow strokes at first, pushing in and out of me, but once my ass continued to relax, Dad started having fun with me. "Yeah, Seb, take my dick," he spatted. "Take my fucking cock, son," he encouraged, swatting my ass with his hand. "ERrrrngh, yeah Dad, FUCK me!" I barked. I looked down and saw my dick swinging back and forth, my shirt just obscuring my view of it. "Mmmmmph, yeah, son. Yer ass feels so good," Dad mumbled as the sounds of Dad's thighs slapping against my ass began to echo throughout the woods. "Mmm! Mmm! MMMPH!" Dad grunted with each powerful thrust, his dick knocking against my prostate, causing my balls to jerk and spasm, my cock to cough out precum, spritzing the trunk of the tree with my clear liquid. "Huuuuungh," I whined deliriously, my chest feeling like it was on fire, sweat beading my forehead. My legs began to tremble weakly. Dad slammed his body against mine, three more times. "MMMMPH. FUCK yeah!" Dad shouted before resting his body against mine, his torso wet with sweat, soaking the back of my t-shirt. Dad slowly pulled out his dick. "HUNnngAAHH!" I bellowed, feeling as though Dad took half my bones out with him. I instantly turned around and dropped to my knees, letting Dad feed me his cock. My eyes rolled at the sensation of Dad blocking my airways with his meat. Dad rocked back and forth letting his jeans get completely off of his ankles, leaving him in all his naked glory, wearing his son on his dick. "Ah, fuck yeah, Seb. Suck my dick, son," he encouraged. His sweaty balls knocked against my chin, my nose buried in his pubic hair, reveling in every second of my dad's treat. "Here, son," Dad said, picking me back up. Dad pull the shirt over my head, and pressed his body against me, pinning me to the tree. Dad's lips pressed against mine, our tongues rolling along each other's. Dad lifted me up by my hips, my legs instinctively wrapped around my dad's waist, his cock resting just beneath my hole. Dad's eyes stared directly into mine as our sweaty naked bodies slid against one another. My balls ran against Dad's tight hairy stomach. My firm chest rested against his pair of balloons. His nipples erect, rubbing along my ribs. Dad hooked his dick into my ass and managed to sneak it inside of me. "Hooo, g-gawd," I whined as Dad lifted me up and down on his dick. "Uhnngh, yeah, Dad, fuck me," I whimpered helplessly as Dad's dick slid in and out of my ass, running along my prostate. Precum webbed between our two bodies as Dad was getting me more and more excited. "Hooooof, yeah, boy," Dad said, shaking the sweat out of his eyes. Dad wiped his sweaty forehead against my face, my lips, giving me a taste of the work he was putting into fucking me. I found my dad's rhythm and began gripping his hips and shimmying up and down my dad's body, allowing him to fuck me harder and deeper. I was in heaven. "Nnnngh, nnngh, yeah, Dad," I grunted. My body was on fire, my lower half a trembling mess of pleasure. "Yeah, boy, work on that dick," Dad huffed. The only thing that disturbed our peace was the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, birds singing, and the distant shuffle of earth crunching beneath my dad's feet. I questioned why we couldn't just live out here forever. Living off the land and our cocks. "F-fuck yeah, son," Dad huffed, his spit flying from his mouth, spraying my face. Dad reached his tongue out, flicking it tenderly against my lips, I responded with warmly welcoming it into my mouth. Dad's face was red with exertion, and the sun that continued to rise higher into the sky. My mother instructed for us to be back by noon, and as the sun grew higher, I knew that we might be a bit late. I didn't care. Dad finally rested my back against the tree giving both of us a break. I found two branches that I could use to support my arms with. I linked my arms around them, and continued riding my dad's cock, feeling his wet me surging in and out of me. "Unnnnnngh, yeah, Dad," I whined helplessly, unable to resist from bouncing on his cock. Precum pooled on my stomach, signaling that I was getting closer to cumming. "Yer leaking like a faucet," Dad admired as he dabbed his fingers in my precum, tasting it for himself, then offering me a taste as I continued working on his dick. Dad wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm before running his hand down my chest and stomach. "Ready for me to fuck the cum out of you?" my dad asked, as though he had that kind of power. I nodded wearily, desperate to feel the extend of my dad's strength pounding into me. I knew it would be the last time I would get to feel him like this for a while, so I wanted to make sure it counted. "Yeah, Dad. Fuck me 'til I cum," I whined. Dad ran his hands around my thighs, getting a firm stance. I gripped the two branches tightly in preparation for what was to come. "Rrrrrgh, yeah," Dad growled. Dad's hips began bucking back and forth, his balls knocking against the base of my ass. My cock twitched and lurched with each of my dad's quick and powerful thrusts. Fire was building inside of my hole, my prostate pushing more and more precum out of me to the point where it was raining on my chest from my dad's intense charges into me. "NNNNGH Y-YERRRRRGH!" I squealed through gritted teeth. I glanced at my dick, feeling myself just on the verge of cumming. I knew that if my dad would just stroke me, that would put me over the edge. "RRRRRRGH!" I was so frustratingly close, and only at the liberty of my father to get me there. Dad's pelvic thrusts maintained their power and their speed, his chest bouncing with each push, his nipples dancing hypnotically as he continued fucking me. Dad's stomach tightened, his sweat splashing against my legs, our bodies shining in the sunlight. Dad would slam his body into me, grind his hips slightly, letting his dick dance inside of me. My eyes would roll in response, feeling as though he were playing with me like a puppet. He would smirk enjoying my pained reactions of agonizing pleasure. Finally, he continued driving his dick into me, pumping my ass like the piston of an engine. I wasn't sure how much more my hole could withstand this prolonged torture of wanting to cum, but not being able to. "ERRRRGH, C'MON, D-DAD! RRRRRRGH!" I growled with intensity. "P-POUND MEEEEEE!" I roared as Dad flipped into a new gear that I didn't know he had, doubling his speed and intensity. "RRRRRAAHHHH!" Dad roared, his cock flying into me. My limbs flailed with each rapid thrust. Precum sprayed in every which direction, raining along random parts of my skin. Dad was foaming at the mouth, reciting all the cuss words he knew. "I'M GONNA CUMMMMMMMMM," Dad wailed as he powered into my ass, his cock like a hot rod of steel searing in my hole. Suddenly I felt cum begin to fill my insides. Hot and scalding the walls of my ass, churned by my dad's thick cock. "K-KEEP FFFFUGGGIN MMEEEE!" I wailed, feeling ever closer to cumming. Dad's eyes glazed over, crossing as he emptied his load into me. I could feel my toes curling, my legs growing numb with ecstasy. "ERRRGH, D-DAD I'M CUMMING!" I squealed like a pig as cum began to fly from my dick. "ERRRRRGH," I squirmed uncomfortably, as though I was holding back a gallon of cum that couldn't break loose. Dad finally gripped my dick with his hand and furiously began jacking me off. My eyes widened as a surge of cum began launching from my prick like lightning. Rope after rope of cum, covering my chest and stomach. "ENNNGH, DON'T STOP DON'T STOP!" I yelled through gritted teeth, my eyes blurring from tears of exertion, as Dad continued the juggling act of plowing into me and jacking me off. Several more pumps of cum splashed to my navel. Dad steadily began to coax my orgasm to a stop, leaning forward and kissing my sweaty skin, lapping up the cum that I'd made for him. Dad's legs quivered as he began pulling his cock of out of me, sending a shock of sensitivity through me. We grunted and huffed through exhausted breath. Dad leaned forward as I wrapped my noodly legs around him, and planted his lips against mine, tenderly kissing my lips, sharing some of the cum that was entangled in his facial hair. Dad guided my legs down, my feet back to terra firma. "Phew," Dad said finally. "I need a nap after that. And a huge cigar," he laughed. I smiled as I rested my hands on my knees, regaining my strength. I reached out and took Dad's cock in my hand again, feeling the weight of it. Just wanting to hold it before it would have to go away for who knows how long. I limped over to my shorts and pulled them on over my shoes. "Let's go wash off in that creek down there," Dad advised. I nodded. Better than going home a sweaty sticky mess. Dad and I hobbled down the hill that we'd just finished climbing and conquering with our sex. My shoes slipped on the rocky slopes, almost losing my footing. Sharp branches cut my legs, but it only made me move quicker like a whip lashing the side of a horse. Finally, we approached the creek. I kicked my shoes off before stepping into the water that was cooled by the shade of surrounding trees. The water came up to just below my waist. Dad was able to get to about his knees. We scooped water onto our shoulders and backs. Dad eventually came over and helped clean off some of the cum that I hadn't found. I wished this moment could have lasted forever, but I knew it couldn't. I pulled into my father, hugging him close, feeling the dampness of his body hair against my face. I buried my nose into his stomach, taking in as much of him in this way as I could. Taking in the earthy smell of the woods around us, the stench of my father, recently sexually satisfied by me, his son. My hole throbbed where my Dad's dick once was, looking forward to the next time that we could have that sort of wild fun. "Let's get goin', Seb," Dad said holding me tightly in his arms. "'Kay," I mumbled, tears in my eyes. "No cryin'," Dad instructed. "We'll see each other again." Dad and I took this as our good-bye before heading back home where we would be given a dozen instructions by my mother as she got her event prepared. Dad wouldn't be present at the event, which was sure to draw questions. As Dad and I pulled into our street, we saw that there was not going to be a place for him to park. "I'll jus' letcha out here," he said, a few houses down from ours. I looked into my Dad's eyes. He had a sad smile on his face. Encouraging me not to feel upset. "I'll call ya every day to check in," he said, promisingly. I nodded hopefully, but still I couldn't help but imagine my mother preventing me from talking with him for some reason. I pushed open the door. "Bye, Dad," I said, solemnly. "Be good!" he called out. I smiled back at him and walked toward our house. As I entered the front door my mother, on cue, was ready to greet me with instructions. "Oh my God, there you are," she huffed and rushed over to me. "What happened to you?" she asked horrified. "We went hiking," I said simply. "Ugh, of course you did. Take a shower, before you do anything else. Then look over this list of questions that you'll probably get from local officials. The answers are on the back, so you know what to say. People are going to be here any minute." I looked around and saw that there were already quite a few people here, but I knew they were working on my mother's "team". Some of them employees working for M.A.T.H., the non-profit about sex-ed that my mother works for, other unfamiliar faces were in the background whom I didn't know. I trudged up the stairs and headed toward the bathroom. Every step I took I imagined me and my Dad. The stairs: when Dad tasted my hole for the first time. My room: when we first sixty-nined. Lisa's door: where Dad fucked me from behind, and I accidently came on her doorknob. This house was full of the very thing that my mother preached against and would be horrified to know about and thinking about it made me smile mischievously. After taking a shower, I headed back downstairs. My mother was talking with a suited-up man and a woman with a pulled back ponytail, both wearing buttons with "SMALLS for MAYOR" and "MOMMY MAYOR" on them. The woman that had a tightly pulled back ponytail was Jessica, one of my mother's assistants. She babysat me once, so it was weird to see her looking so professional. "Sebastian this is Jessica, who you already know, and this is Chance. He's one of brains behind our campaign," my mother lectured. "Hi champ, it's nice to meetcha," he said with the voice that I could only imagine announcing a baseball game. He held out his hand and took mine in it. It was soft, and the backs of his hands had a trace of dark brown hair. His eyes drooped somewhat sadly, but his white smile beamed, lighting up the room. A trace of stubble outlined his squarish face. He reminded me of a golden retriever. Eager, excited, energetic, and definitely not bad to look at. At just over six feet, I could tell why my mother hired him. He was charming but didn't let himself steal the show. "Happy Birthday, by the way, sport," he piqued. My eyebrows shot up, wondering how he knew that it was my birthday. "It's your birthday? Aww," Jessica cooed. "You're having this event on his birthday?" she directed toward my mother. "It was the only date that fit everyone's schedule," my mother shrugged. With that, my mother continued discussing campaign plans, next steps, what to say and how to say it. I imagined that this is what she thought about even when she slept. "Did you look at the questions I gave you?" my mother asked. "Yeah," I lied. "Really?" her brows lifted, pausing in the middle of whatever busy thing she was in the middle of. She folded her arms. "Okay, what's your favorite subject in school?" my mother quizzed. "Math," I shrugged. It was my honest answer. I really did enjoy Mr. Flores's math class. My mother sighed in response, her hand rubbing her eyes. "No, it's science because you've always had a dream of going into outer space, just like your childhood hero, Neil Armstrong," she explained. "Neil Armstrong is my childhood hero?" I asked. "Well, he is now," she said, handing me another copy of the questions. I looked over them. They would be impossible to learn in such a short amount of time. "Can I see if Paul can come over and hang out?" I asked dejectedly. "Paul...Grisham? No, this is a special event, Sebastian. The Grishams haven't been invited." I was sort of shocked to hear this. As the first neighbors that introduced themselves to us when we first moved in, I would have thought they would have been considered "special" enough. At the sound of the doorbell, my mother didn't even flinch. Instead she checked her dark brown hair to make sure that it was perfectly in place before making her way to the door. Jennifer followed, so it was just me and Chance left in the kitchen. "Doin' okay, kid?" he asked. I nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Just don't know why this is such a big deal," I pouted. "Well, yer mom's running for mayor. Probably the biggest move she's made in her life. She just wants it to go well," he explained diplomatically. "Yeah, well..." I trailed off "don't know why it has to be today. Of all days," I shrugged. "It's like she planned it to be today on purpose." I leaned against the kitchen counter with my arms folded. "Well, my job is to make sure your mom's happy, and I bet you being happy is part of that. How 'bout if you're good today, I'll find you a birthday surprise?" he proposed, looking at me with excited encouraging eyes. "Ha...sure," I said. With that, guests began filing in. People who were opposing Tom Jones, who was the current mayor. Then people arrived who were part of M.A.T.H., and then of course the media. Reporters that I'd seen before from previous days in the week. The amount of decorating that went into transforming our house into a political party must have taken at least twenty people, because I could hardly recognize our living room. Big banners that said my last name on them, and of course the pitch that she was sending to the people: "Mommy Mayor." I couldn't think of the last time I'd referred to my mother as anything but "my mother." A distant title, further away from "Mom", and definitely not "Mommy". My face scrunched, stifling a laugh at the idea. As one of the children, along with Lisa, we were supposed to mingle, be cordial, and answer questions. Lisa was eating this up, loving the attention, having something clever for every question she was asked. I was more stiff, uncertain, but I was at least trying. Outside was a soft bossa nova band playing with electric instruments. As people continued to drink more, they would filter outside to experience the warm air that was slowly beginning to shift over to fall. Lisa eventually bounded outside, acting giddy. "Wow! This is better than I thought it would be," she said. I was surprised that she was liking the attention, someone who is typically drowning out the world with music. "Really? I hate it," I grumbled. "Ugh, Seb? If mom wins, that means we get money. Don't you get that?" she asked. I shrugged. "I guess that doesn't matter to me," I said. "Lisa, do you know about Dad?" I asked. "Ugh, what? When you're older you'll understand--Hi! Yes I'm Lisa Smalls." She seemed to walk away quicker than she arrived. Either she didn't know, or she didn't care. I hoped it was the first one, since I'd hate to lose even my sister to this political craze. I meandered around, answering the same formula of questions that continued to be served to me: "You must be Sebastian?" "Yes." "I'm so happy you're safe from that criminal." "Thank you. I hope that when my mother becomes mayor, all kids like me can feel safe." "I agree. Thank you." "Enjoy the rest of the night." Over and over again. Before too long, I saw my mother approach the soft bossa nova band and signal with her hand that she was about to interrupt. The band came to a close and backed up slightly, giving her a microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if I can please have your attention for a short moment." Applause began to rattle the outdoor air, and my mother stood appreciating it. "I promise I'll be quick. This is a party after all," the audience laughed softly. "You're all here today because you believe in what Birchwood should be. Now, I haven't been here for very long, but in just a few short months, my life changed forever when my son was taken away from me. Missing for almost four days." Her eyes shone with tears, and I couldn't tell if she was being honest or not. "When that happened, I reached out to everyone that I could call a friend, and I learned that Birchwood is a place that only sees its residents as friends, family, even if you don't know them." The audience applauded in agreement. "When I asked the office of our current mayor Tom Jones--" playful boos erupted from the group. "--his office was unable to assist, saying that it was a law enforcement issue, not a mayoral one. Well, Mr. Jones, I would hope that when it comes to the safety of your town's children, that we would see this as a human issue, a family issue." The crowd roared with cheers. "Which is also why you're all here today. If you want a mayor that can bring safety back into the lives of our town's residents, then I hope that you'll consider making a donation to the Smalls campaign, so that we can get to work on making Birchwood better for all of us." The crowd cheered louder than ever. The bossa nova music changed to soft salsa dance music. Those who felt comfortable danced as my mother went off to shake hands and ensure donations. I waited around for the crowd to shift back inside to look at the donated silent auction items that were set out on the dining room table. The band started packing away their equipment, and I could tell that the night was coming to a close. I took a seat in one of the folding chairs, imagining that I was going to have to help clean up all of this. Eventually I saw Chance bounding out of the dining room, joining me outside. He was holding a cupcake with a white candle stuck in it. The outer jacket that he'd been wearing at first was now completely discarded, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal a set of hairy forearms. "Oh boy," I said to myself. "Phew!" Chance hooted as he took a seat next to me. "Busy night. I think your mom's really happy with how it went. Good job." "I didn't really do anything," I retorted. "Sure you did. You didn't make her look bad," he said with a smile. I raised an eyebrow. If that's all I really had to do, then I imagined that this was going to be pretty easy. Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. With a couple of flicks of his thumb, the lighter sprouted a single flame, and carefully brought it to the tip of the candle. The dim light around us flickered along our clothes as the candle remained lit. "Alright," he said shaking his hand from the excess heat. "Make a wish," he said, handing the cupcake over to me. I held the tiny representation of what was my transition to being a teenager in my hand. For the first time, I considered what I would wish for before blowing out the candles. Would life really be that different? Would things get easier or harder? Especially without my dad around, how would I be able to grow up the way I was meant to? If I hadn't been kidnapped, I probably would have wished for just more sex, but now? All I wanted was for my life to be back to normal. With dick, without dick, I didn't care. "Uhhh, any second now," Chance teased, bumping shoulders with me. "I wish life was the way it was," I thought to myself, and then blew out the one candle. It was pretty pathetic watching just one candle on a cupcake that was meant for my mother's party. Not for me. I took the candle out and stuck the waxy end in my mouth, licking off the icing. It was nice of him to think of me, especially when it didn't seem like anyone else was. "Thank you," I said. "No problem," he said congenially. * Going back to school was stressful to think about. Actually being back at school was bizarre. I hadn't been in school in over a week, and everyone knew why. As I made my way through each of the hallways, everyone's eyes were on me. Some people approached me, expressing how happy they were that they were safe, others weren't sure what to say, so they just avoided me. My teachers each gave me distance, almost as though they'd had had a meeting about me before knowing I'd be back in school. What was somewhat a relief, but also a surprise, was that the sexual energy that I felt from this place seemed to be gone. I wasn't sure if maybe my wish came true, or if I was just entering these halls with a different purpose. What I had used my school for in the past was a series of tree limbs that I could swing to, from each sexual excursion to the next. Wasn't a fan of Spanish class? Get the principal to fuck for 90 minutes. Wasn't able to stay awake in English? Get the swim coach to give me something to open my eyes about. Getting bored in history? Find the assistant principal to show me how to behave myself. Now after seeing my teachers at my house, doing their best to keep me from withdrawing from my education, I wanted to give my best efforts back to them. I was taking English tutorials with Ms. Lewis despite our original hatred for one another. I was volunteering to help out Mr. George, not even in a flirtatious way to get in his pants. Cleaning the lab equipment helped me learn more about science than taking notes it seemed. What was most difficult was having the conversations with the faculty who seemed to enjoy my favors the most. Mr. McCook being one, called me into his office during math, my favorite subject. "How are you doing, Mr. Smalls?" he asked. Both of us were divided by his seemingly more disorganized desk. "I'm doing fine, Mr. McCook," I answered. My hands folded in my lap. I watched him looking me up and down, at first I thought he was going to ask me to get off my ass and give him a blowjob, but a pained expression told me otherwise. His tie was loose around his neck, revealing a soft tuft of chest hair. His shirt was wrinkled, almost as though he hadn't changed in a couple of days. "I wanted to call you in to my office today to..." he paused a while, thinking of the right thing to say, "...to make sure that we," he gestured back and forth with his hands, "we can continue our relationship," he said cautiously. "Our relationship?" I asked, genuinely confused. "Yes," he said. "We here at BMS have missed having you in class, me especially so," he said adjusting his seating. I could tell he was hard. I could smell the sweaty cock on him. "I just hope that we can continue our appointments." "Oh," I said. I surprisingly wasn't jumping out of my seat, or crawling on my knees toward him, begging for his cock. "Well..." I wasn't sure what to say. I did know, however, that if we were considering positions of power in this room, despite Mr. McCook being my principal, I fully knew the consequences of what Mr. McCook would go through if someone found out about us. "Things have been really weird lately," I explained. "I can only imagine," he said, nodding understandingly. "I think I just need a chance to focus on school for a while," I said. I saw his jaw clench, as though I just told him that he'd been fired. "My grades haven't been the best." "I can adjust them," he said wiping his hands, as though he had the power to fix anything. "It's okay. I really want to earn them," I said. "Is that okay?" I asked. Mr. McCook looked away from me. I began to see that fear in Mr. McCook's eyes. Fear that I remember seeing in Daddy when he realized that I couldn't possibly be just his forever. "This wasn't what I was hoping to hear," Mr. McCook said cautiously. "It's taking everything I have to not crawl across this desk and feed you my cock," he laughed and held his head in his hands. It made me sad to see him like this. "Mr. McCook," I said encouragingly. "The man who took me," I started. "When I was with him, fucked me tons of times. In dozens of ways. If he wasn't resting, eating, drinking, sleeping, he was fucking me. In the short time that I was captured by him, he fucked me more times than you ever did. And I loved it," I said. Mr. McCook obviously didn't want to hear this. "Until, I found out that he wouldn't let me leave him, ever." Mr. McCook sat uncomfortably behind his desk. He was hurt by what I said. As thought I was accusing him of being as worse as my kidnapper. "I'll make you serve detention," he said, as though making a chess move. His mustache twitched on his upper lip. "My mother is running for mayor, Mr. McCook. If she found out that you've been having sex with me, it would be exactly what she would want to help her win," I countered nonchalantly, almost surprised that I was able to come up with that idea on the spot. "I...o-of course," he shuffled. "Mr. S-Smalls," he squeaked. His face twisted into a childish sadness. "I need your hole. I don't know what my life will be like without it." Mr. McCook, my principal, sat blubbering. "Your hole...that ass...that perfect and beautiful hole," he whined. I could see his arm twitching as he rubbed himself underneath his desk. I needed to determine how to let Mr. McCook down easy without him flipping out. How can I keep him on a leash, but also let that leash by twenty miles long? "How about by Christmas break," I started. That was almost three months from now. "If I can get all A's, then we can celebrate." He seemed somewhat defeated. "That's a really long time from now," he said. His forehead was beginning to sweat. "And your grades...they're not good, I've seen them." "I guess I'll just have to work harder then. Stay in class. Not skip," I said matter-of-factly. Mr. McCook sighed and nodded his head. "Go to tutorials. Do every assignment. I'll even tell Coach Scott that if your grades slip below an A, to pull you from the team," he said, his eyes locked onto mine. My stomach twisted a little at the sound of this, but I had to keep my cool. "Good idea," I responded. "Anything else, Mr. McCook?" Mr. McCook stalled. Looking around his office for anything to add. Rather than respond with words, Mr. McCook stood up from his desk, revealing his hard on. The tip of his dick fell to the desk with a thud, a pool of precum already starting to form around his meat. Maybe he was just trying to tempt me. To see if I was serious. I did my best to look away from him, but I couldn't. "No. That's it," he said. "I'll be in touch," he said, slipping his erection back into his pants, a trail of precum ribboning through the open air. I got up to leave. I didn't question what he meant, by all of that. I just played it cool and continued on my way, out of the front office and headed back to class. It felt good to know that, even though I'd just terminated an avenue to cock, I still had a goal. A purpose in mind that would lead me to just a check point in my school year. All A's would be a reward to look forward to. All A's was something I never could have said back at my old school. When I got back to Mr. Flores's class, it was obvious on the expression of my classmates' and Mr. Flores's faces that I was back pretty quick. I took my seat with my pencil and scratch paper, ready to continue learning. "Alright, prime factorization of 120," Mr. Flores instructed. We all began factoring the number 120 with the method that he taught us. The collective sounds of pencils scratching furiously away at our desks only served as motivation to write quicker. Think faster. I drew trees that lead from the base number, finding what prime numbers we could multiply to reach a solution. 60 times 2. 30 times 2. 15 times 2. 3 times 5. My hand shot into the air. "Sebastian? You got this?" Mr. Flores asked. "Two to the power of three, times three, times five," I stated, reading off the notes that I'd constructed on my paper. Mr. Flores smiled in reaction to my response. "Anyone else see that on their paper," a few other people raised their hands as they finished their answer, and several more after seeing that more and more people had their hands in the air. "Mr. Smalls takes it," he said proudly. I smiled to myself with this newfound determination. I continued through each class this way. Paying attention, taking notes, writing down assignments in the back of my notebook to be checked later. It was a way of deflecting the questions that I knew my classmates were asking, but also a way for me to get through this new normal that I was trying to iron down while at school. Lunch was a challenge since that was a chance to socialize, and nothing could protect me from the onslaught of questions that were thrown my way. Mainly by Curt, my one good friend on the swim team. "Were you scared?" "What was it like?" "Did you try to fight him back?" "Are you scared it'll happen again?" All questions I tried to give vague one- or two-word answers to. In most cases people would try to give a person their space, but in middle school, I was a watering hole of gossip and information. "Someone said that he made you dress up like a girl." "Someone told me that he was going to sell you to Mexican human traffickers." "I heard that he was your mom's ex-husband wanting to get back at her for cheating on her." "Is it true that he was actually your long-lost cousin from the Korean War who was trying to use your image as positive American propaganda?" The questions continued throughout the day, even on the bus that took the swim team to the public pool for practice. It took all of me to not give in and just support the rumormongering. But the more I diffused it, the more I was able to make things as normal as possible. Thankfully, swim practice ended up proving to be a much-needed escape. First, I was greeted by an outpouring of love from the team. Sevies and Eights alike both applauded my arrival in the locker room. Hugs, backslaps, even a makeshift banner out of towels written on with magic marker with my name on it, hanging along the opening frame of the locker room. I didn't notice Cole "Bowlcut" Mayo anywhere, but I greeted the welcome party openly, even if he was there. "Thanks guys. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. I just hope that things can get back to normal," I said. "Yeah, like, you're one of us, man," I heard Martinez say as he was getting changed. "Nothin'll change that." "Yeah, we were about to join the party to look for ya," Collins said. McDough, my other teammate from the last meet we were in, chimed in next, "We're glad you're back!" Amidst the cheering, Mayo bounded in already dressed out for practice: Speedo, haircap, goggles, the works. "I know we're not wasting our time out here. Coach would've wanted us out stretching already," he said tersely. The crowd grew uncomfortable. "We're just, like, welcoming Smalls back to the team," Martinez chimed in. "Well we can do that when we're not supposed to be practicing," Mayo said. "Everyone should be done in here in five," he said for all to here. With that, the team got finished getting dressed. I ignored Mayo's attitude. I also ignored the idea that while I was gone, that Mayo and Coach Scott were having gratuitous amounts of sex. The idea that for every orgasm I had while I was away with Daddy, Mayo and Coach had double that. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. "Smalls," I heard a voice that sent shivers all through my body. I turned and saw Coach Scott. His skin slightly paler, I imagined due to the recent rain we'd had, keeping him from being outside. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses so I couldn't read his expression. The team went quiet, listening intently to whatever Coach Scott had to say. "Can you stay behind? While the rest go out and stretch up?" Each of the swimmers looked at one another, eager to see what would happen next. "Sure, Coach," I said. I approached him as the rest of the team started to file out, per Coach Scott's instructions, leaving the two of us alone in the locker room of the public pool. "Sebastian," Coach whispered, once he determined that we were alone. He rushed to me, his body against mine, my face in his hands. He pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, rocking me back and forth as his strong arms wrapped around me. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. This is all my fault," he lamented. I'd missed Coach's touch. He was as close to me physically as my dad was, being only the second person to have sex with me. I could feel his dick through his thin coach's warmup pants. Coach pulled away from me, took off his sunglasses, and I could see that his eyes were red from crying. He hooked the temple arms of his glasses in the collar of his t-shirt. "Coach," I said softly. "I-I..." "You don't have to say anything," Coach said before his neck jerked forward, his lips pressing themselves against mine. Coach's kiss electrified me, my dick spinning with excitement. I could feel my body becoming prepared for what would typically come next: A fucking spree. But I couldn't let it happen. I knew that if I took to Coach's dick now, my whole plan would be disrupted. As Coach hooked his jaw and planted his tongue against mine, he reached for my waist. I softly placed my hand on his and began to pull away from him. "Wh-wh..." Coach stammered. "Is everything okay?" "I'm great, Coach," I said optimistically. "I just...I need some time. Some time to get things back to normal," I explained. "N-normal?" Coach practically barked. "What do you mean? You don't want...?" he motioned between me and him uncomfortably. "You're all I want, Sebastian," he continued. "You're all I've ever wanted. You're...perfect," he continued. That word. I'd heard it from Daddy, Mr. McCook, and now Coach Scott. It was driving me crazy. My mother wanted me to be perfect. The men in my life saw me as perfect. I just wanted to be normal. "Don't you..." Coach rubbed the front of his pants before finally pulling out his thick uncut cock to show me what I'd been missing. His cock, which, the last time I saw a glimpse of it, was buried deep into Mayo's ass. Coach started stroking himself in front of me, tempting me with his hard dick. All around me, memories came flooding back to the first time Coach made me cum by fucking my ass with his tongue. The smell of the soap in the showers, chlorine baking on the pavement outside, the rush of the water all around us, the warmth of his mouth latched to my hole. Seeing Coach's erect cock in front of me was like showing a kid a candy bar who's had nothing but sweets for weeks. I just couldn't bring myself to jump on it like I might of before. Not since everything that's happened. Not to mention the way Coach tried to punish me by taking his dick away from me indefinitely. "N-no, Coach," I said, turning my head away from the beautiful dick only a foot away from me. "I just can't right now," I confessed. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, somewhat hurt. "J-just...let me be on the team again," I said cautiously. "I just want to swim right now." "What's goin' on, Smalls?" Coach asked, genuinely concerned. As though he'd made me my favorite meal, and I pushed it away with no appetite. "After what happened, I just...need some time, I think. To get back to normal," I said the phrase that I'd been repeating over and over again. "But, isn't this what you want? Wouldn't this make things feel normal?" he asked wagging his dick playfully. "Honestly, no," I admitted. Coach's face dropped. I knew that he felt rejected. "I'm sorry, Coach," I said. Coach thought for a moment, tucked his erection away and then looked at me with a smile. "I'm glad you're bein' honest with me, Smalls. I'm disappointed, and I can't say I'm not gonna keep tryin'. You're the best thing my dick's ever felt, and I don't wanna lose that. But yer also my best swimmer, and I don't wanna lose that either. Just don't shut down on me. The team needs you just like I need you." I approached Coach and gave him a hug, thankful for his understanding. "Thanks, Coach," I said warmly. "S'alright, Smalls," he said in return. His hands ran along my back allowing my body to press further into his. Suddenly I felt his hand trail to my ass. "Coach," I said hastily. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," he said pulling away from me with a goofy smile on his face. "Let's get to practice." * Things at home seemed hectic. There were more people than we were used to. Jennifer was on the phone with news media, Chance was making campaign calls, and a series of other workers were putting programs together for the next rally that my mother was going to hold at my school. I rolled my eyes when I heard this. "Really?" I thought, "She has to shove herself down my classmate's throats, too?" It's not like we could vote. What's the point? In my room, I took to working on my homework assignments. In Math I was ahead, Health/Science I was okay, but we apparently had a project that was due coming up, and I wasn't sure about my partner. Maybe if Paul's doing the assignment, too I can team up with him? In the rest of my subjects, I'd done all the work that I could. English was where I was really struggling. I looked through my notes, and of all my journals it was my most bare. I had Coach Scott to thank for that, I thought. I caught myself placing blame on him, and decided, no, it was my own fault. In my notes I found Shirley Benevidas's phone number. She seemed pretty good at English, and I was good at math, so maybe we could help each other. Plus, she was pretty cute. I picked up the phone, was surprised that no one was using it, and dialed in her number. My heart began to race nervously. With each buzz of the phone, I grew more anxious. "Hello?" a man's voice answered. "H-hi, is Shirley there?" "Yeah, who's this?" "Oh, I'm Sebastian Smalls. I'm in Shirley's English class. I just had a question about the homework." Some silence passed. "Hello?" it was Shirley. "Hey, it's Sebastian," I said, trying to sound cool. "Oh, hey!" she sounded bright and warm over the phone. "What's up?" "Nothin, much," I said dumbly. "O-oh...okay, well, why are you calling?" she asked with a laugh in her voice. "Oh yeah. Um...for Ms. Lewis's class. Do you...um...get what's going on?" I asked. "Ugh, I don't think anyone does," she said. "But I'm done with my homework if you just wanna copy it tomorrow." "N-no, I really wanna do it myself." "Wo-o-o-w, listen to you!" she said. "Alright, basically--" Shirley want on a pretty rapid listing of instructions. I did my best to write them all down, when she was done my hand was cramping and I'd filled almost a whole page of notebook paper. "Wow, anything else?" I asked somewhat facetiously. "Nope, that's it. Think you can handle it?" she asked just as facetiously. "Ha, yeah, I'll be able to figure it out," I said. Some silence went by. "So...how are you feeling, considering..." she asked. "I'm okay. Today was weird, but I liked being back at school, actually. I missed it," I explained. "Wow. I can't imagine," she said, some silence went by. "Were you scared?" she asked. "Yeah, I was scared. I wasn't sure what was--" Suddenly I heard the phone pick up, and the sounds of numbers being punched in. "Wh-BEEP's ha-BEEP-BEEP-ing?" Shirley giggled over the phone with a mix of the numbers being punched in. "Hello?" It was Jennifer downstairs. "Jennifer I'm on the phone. I'll be done in a minute." She hung up. "Are you there?" "Yeah, I'm here," Shirley responded. "Gotta go?" she asked. "Yeah, sorry. Every phone's being used all the time here it seems." "The challenge of having a Mommy Mayor, huh?" she asked sweetly. I scoffed in return. "Well, hey. Why don't we sit together at lunch tomorrow?" she asked. My eyebrows shot up. Was Shirley asking me to eat lunch with her? "U-uh," I stammered. "Y-yeah, sure!" I said a little too excited. "Hee-hee, alright. Goodnight Sebastian." "'Night," I said. I hung up the phone with a click. My mind was racing with excitement. A girl wants me to sit with her at lunch! As I poured through the English assignment, painstakingly, I couldn't help but think about how normal the day went. Despite a campaign team working downstairs, and my Coach and principal pining for my ass, it was a relief to just sit in my bedroom, and work on my homework. I checked the clock: 9:05 PM. I figured I would try giving my dad a call, thinking that no one was probably using the phone anymore. I picked it up softly so as to not interrupt and conversations that might have been happening on the other side. Thankfully, it was just a dial tone. I checked my desk for the number that Dad left me where I could reach him. I punched in the numbers and waited for Dad to answer. After the fourth, fifth, and sixth rings, I finally heard my Dad's voice. "Hello, you've reached Gary Smalls. Leave a message." Answering machine. I loved the sound of my Dad's voice, especially over the phone. It took on whole different level of gravelly-ness to it, making my ears buzz. A beep came after my dad's away message and I began talking. "Hey, Dad. It's Sebastian," I thought of what to say next. "Today was pretty good. Nothing crazy happened. School was fine. Oh! And a girl asked me to sit with her at lunch tomorrow! I got back to swimming today. I was a little rusty, but I'll get better." I didn't know how to end the message, so I just said. "I miss you." * The next morning, I stumbled groggily to the restroom. Despite going to bed early, I still didn't sleep well. Maybe I was just excited about meeting up with Shirley tomorrow, I couldn't tell. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a reflection that I didn't recognize. My hair looked darker, my skin red, my eyes a flashing gold. I laughed and stooped down to the sink to splash water on my face. When I looked up, I jumped backward. My face had completely taken on a new form. The tan skin from being out in the sun, was now a tomato red. My wild brown hair was now dark and wiry. From my lips I could see fangs sprouting from my teeth. My eyes were a reptilian gold. I ran my hands down my body to find the lean figure that I'd grown familiar with had now doubled in musculature. My smooth skin was now decorated in black hair sprouting from my chest and running down my stomach in a steady line. My dick that was maybe 5 inches fully erect, now swung between my legs considerably larger, knocking against the bathroom counter, already leaking precum. From my lower back sprouted a thin tail with a diamond shape on the tip. "Errrrrrrgh," I groaned, my voice considerably deeper. Horns started to grow from my head, sending searing pain throughout my body. My hands gripped the edge of the counter as the transformation continued. Claws grew from my fingertips and toes, my eyebrows grew bushy, fangs grew sharper. I was becoming a full-fledged demon right before my very eyes. I grabbed the door and yanked it open. Rather than being met with the upstairs hallway, I was transported to a volcanic ruin. Lava spurted from the ground, and I took off running in my new form. I traversed cliffs, ducked under ravines, climbed over geysers before coming to what seemed to be an arena carved into the rocky terrain. Steam billowed around my feet with each of my steps. I navigated a tunnel that led me to the arena floor. At the center of the audience space was a massive throne carved out of the volcanic rock. In the distance, a volcano began to erupt, surging lava toward the arena. The space began to become enclosed with molten rock, blocking off all of my exits, but to my surprise, I didn't feel hot, which I attributed to my new form. The throne began to fill with lava, shaping itself into the form of a massive human. As the lava began to harden, I began to see the muscular outlines of legs and thighs. Of hips and a waist. Of abs and pecs. Of Arms. As the form reached the top, two similar horns to mine erected from its forehead. All together it must have been over ten-feet tall. Its skin changed from craggy rock to the tomato red that I also had. Black hair coated its shoulders, chest, and stomach. His dick spilled forth, practically reaching between his knees. I stared dumbstruck. "Who are you?" I called. "R zn Uzinvi. Gsv Prmt lu gsrh Ivzon.." His voice growled in a language I couldn't understand. "King," it repeated, suddenly clear to my ears. "Prmt." His nipples were a dark purple, and the more he talked, the more hair would bristle and splay on his muscular body. "Prmt Uzinvi." "What do you want from me here?" I called back. "Blfi hvvw," Uzinvi growled. His cock twitched and pulsated, leaking a bright golden honey color that steamed when it hit the volcanic earth. The middle of the arena began to split open, and from the fissure sprouted five gallows, entrapping five men who I was very familiar with. Coach Scott. Mr. Grisham. Earl. Mr. McCook. Dr. Amar. All of them were naked and hunched over, their heads trapped in metal devices, their hands pathetically unable to do anything. Around their cocks, were locks keeping them from getting hard. Each of them whimpered and whined, desperate for freedom. "What is this?" I asked, mortified and aroused, seeing them this way. "Xsllhv," Uzinvi growled. "Choose," he said, understanding him more clearly. "Drgs freedom xlnvh z wriv consequence. Xsllhv. All nfhg yv free." He reached out a clawed hand toward the five men. I looked at each of them. I knew that I was picking someone to have freedom, with some kind of consequence. But I didn't know what that consequence was. I just chose the first one in the line. "Coach Scott," I pointed to him. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, thank you." The lock that was fastened around Coach Scott's cock melted away, causing his meat to spill forth. The gallows also melted away, freeing Coach Scott from his imprisonment. "Consequence," Uzinvi's voice rumbled through my ribs. And with those words. Coach Scott dropped to his hands and knees. "GRRRRAHH!" Coach Scott roared as his skin changed to a dark red, his eyes a blank white, as his limbs inflated with size, transforming into the same demonic form as me, but in his own shape. His powerful arms inflated along with his chest. His stomach retained its rotundness, but even more pronounced was his ass that was large and shapely. Coach in his new form could only topple backwards, his legs splayed apart, his toes curling as he stroked himself, his cock stretching to almost his chest. "Ufxp...n-nv..." Coach bleated, helplessly. His hands reached for his ass, pulling apart his ass cheeks, drawing me in with his hungry hole. "Ufffffffxp nv!" he growled, his back arching, his body writhing with need. I looked down at my new supreme cock, already dripping with precum. I approached Coach Scott, and almost by instinct, I slid my dick into him. With no remorse. "IIIIIIIIIIIII!" Coach sang, his face contorting into a silly satisfaction, tongue drooping from his jaw, drool forming at the corner of his lips. With full force, I began fucking my demonic swim coach's brains out. His ass was tight, and white hot around my meat. Surging in and out of him brought a new pleasure that I hadn't experienced yet. My massive balls knocked against the base of Coach Scott's ass. I watched in admiration as the man who had used my hole so many times fall victim to my new resplendent cock. His armored muscles bouncing with each of my pelvic thrusts. "BVVVH! BVVVH!" Coach cried hysterically. "NLIV!!!! SZIWVI!!!" he bellowed. I wound my hips more fervently, pounding out my coach, watching him lose his mind at the sensation of my cock reaming him. "BVH!!! UFXP NV!!" My claws gripped my coach's bouncing chest, tweezing his nipples. Before long, I felt Coach's ass tighten around my dick. His balls nestled against the base of his cock. "R'n xfnnrmt! R'N...FFFFFFMTS!" Coach began soaking himself with his cum, a soft golden color as he sobbed with pleasure, tears falling over his wild grin. I continued fucking Coach until I felt my own dick inflate with cum. "RRRRRRGH!" I roared violently as searing hot cum rocketed from my dick, scorching the inside of my coach's ass. "Gszmp blf nzhgvi...gszmp blf nzhgvi," Coach whispered weakly as I continued cumming inside of him, circling his nipples with his claws. I pulled my dick out of him, watching as my load spewed from his ass, dribbling the volcanic rock with my seed. I felt immensely powerful. Like I could accomplish anything. Like I could break a mountain in two. Cum continued to seep from my dick as I looked at the four remaining prisoners being watched by Uzinvi. "Please, pick me," Earl groaned in agony. "Sebastian, please," Dr. Amar called. "Choose me," Mr. McCook whined. "Sebastian," Mr. Grisham cried feebly. I looked into all of their eyes. Which one would I use for my pleasure next? Whose ass would become mine? Who would lend their insides to this Excalibur of a cock suspending between my legs? "Please, fuck me next," a chorus of their voices continued. "Master, give me your seed." It was indecipherable to who was calling out to me. Calling me master. Begging to be fucked. Mr. Grisham looked like a child who really wanted a new toy. Earl's eyebrows were furrowed as though I was already fucking him. Mr. McCook's face was pouring with sweat. Dr. Amar was struggling against the gallows. Coach was pleasantly suckling on his fingers, as he gobbled up whatever drops of cum he could find. Finally, I said, "Give me all of them." Uzinvi's tree trunk of a dick spasmed with this request, a small rain of precum from his dick pattered against the heated earth. His arm stretched outward, and one by one, the prisoners were free, collapsing to the earth, making their slow crawl toward me. Mr. Grisham was the first to transform. His pale skin grew a charcoal black, a long tail snaked from his lower back, his soft blue eyes grew yellow and reptilian. His lean muscles puffed with power, toughening before my eyes. His long cock dragged against the ground as he steadily continued crawling toward me. He reached me first, his calloused hands running up my thighs before beginning to worship his new master's dick with his tongue, choking on it as though there was no other way to pleasure me. His face, despite having transformed was still the same preacher that I'd grown to know. I looked beyond Mr. Grisham to find Mr. McCook and Earl wrestling with one another as they tried to get to me first. Mr. McCook's skin turned an olive green, his already plentiful body hair grew more so, curling into a fine wool. His arms inflated with muscle, his chest a rich bed of body hair, his dick barely peeking through the loincloth of pubic hair that enshrouded his waist. Golden horns spiraled from his forehead, and two tusks from his lower jaw, stretched upward toward his cheeks. Earl as he was beginning to finish his demonic transformation looked the most similar to his original self. His sunburnt skin grew more bright pink, and no body hair, save for a small tuft of dark hair sprouted above his cock, which big in its natural state became even more of a weapon. Earl and Mr. McCook rolled and slashed at one another. Mr. McCook pinning Earl down, attempted to smother his face with his cock, but being more limber, Earl was able to slip from under him. Earl knocked Mr. McCook down heavily, before burying his ass on Mr. McCook's face, riding on top of him. The two grunted and growled, spit flying from their faces as they continued to tumble into one another in a sexual frenzy. Dr. Amar crawled past them, making his way toward me. As he transformed, the soft kindness that seemed to embody him became erased by a series of markings that covered the entirety of his body. His brown skin turned to a sallow gray; the markings black. Any hair that was on his body vanished, leaving him almost a statue of a person. Fangs grew from his mouth, his eyes a blank white. Wings stretched from his back that were tattered with holes. His cock, grew in length and girth, his balls swinging heavily from the base of his dick. Mr. Grisham, Coach Scott, and Dr. Amar all continued taking turns feeding on my dick, sucking on it ferociously, as though out of their control. Not even close to orgasming, my dick spontaneously began to shoot ropes of glistening cum along the faces of my underlings. Happily they lapped it up. Off of my dick, of each other's face, wherever they could find it. Upon seeing this, Mr. McCook and Earl saw what they were missing and began lurching toward the source of cum, hoping to satisfy their hunger. As they approached they got the last of what my balls were able to produce at the time. It was only after each of them had a taste of my cum that a ritual began. Almost uniformly the five men began to circle around me and lay on their backs. "lmv hdliw nzpvh urev kzigh dslov," they would each whisper one at a time. Coach Scott lifted his legs so that they were high in the air, his back lifted off the ground. "lmv hdliw nzpvh urev kzigh dslov." Each of them made this same position, locking their legs with one another in order to keep themselves steady. As they finished, they created the shape of a five-pointed star. "lmv hdliw nzpvh urev kzigh dslov." I was surrounded by my new slaves. Each of them a hungry hole suspended in the air, waiting to be fed by my cock. Waiting to cum at the hands of my dick. "lmv hdliw nzpvh urev kzigh dslov." They all began to chant in unison. I could barely contain myself. I didn't know where to start. "lmv hdliw nzpvh urev kzigh dslov." Their voices distorted in a maniacal chorus that was driving me to a sexual insanity. I unleashed everything I had in the banquet that was surrounding me. I shoved fingers inside of the two holes to my left and right and took no qualms about diving dick first into Mr. Grisham's eager hole. "BVH GSZMP BLF. GSZMP BLF," he writhed at the sensation of his ass being plugged by my severe cock. His ass was clamping desperately to my dick, warmth encased me as I hammered in and out of his hole. Within seconds, I was filling up Mr. Grisham's ass with my cum, and from Mr. Grisham's dick came piping hot jizz spilling onto his own face. "G-Gszmp blf..." he whispered, not in his own mind. From here, I began making the rounds. Jumping from hole to hole. "Trev nv blfi hvvw nzhgvi!" Dr. Amar howled as I reamed his ass with my cock. "HKORG NV LKVM!!!" Mr. McCook spat through a deluge of cum that was raining on to his face as I fucked him. "Uroo nv drgs blfi hkzdm nzhgvi," Earl sobbed as I jammed my cock into him, his cock already thudding against his face as I fucked him. His lips curled attempting to welcome his own dick into his mouth. My cock swam in its own cum as I fucked my way through another orgasm. And it wasn't long before he was gargling on a load of his own. "Ufxp gsv xfn lfg lu nv!!" he cried, cum pouring from his mouth. The men were unstoppable in their thirst for my dick. The satisfaction of their own cum painting their faces would keep them occupied only just long enough to be fucked again. And I wasn't growing tired. If this was my eternity, then I would be pleased with it. This circle of men, all begging for more of my dick in them. All drowning in cum. Enslaved by my devilish prick. Gnashing their fangs in their demonic language for more. As I was beginning to revisit Coach Scott's hungry ass, his face masked with his own cum, I heard the voice of Uzinvi. "Blf szev xslhvm blfi uzgv," he grumbled. From his throne, he stood up and began walking toward the center of the arena where I continued fucking my mindless slaves, pumping cum into their overflowing holes, feeding themselves with their own jizz. Slowly Uzinvi's dick swung between his legs with each massive step. Towering over us, he began to recite a poem that I could clearly understand. [Y]ellow is dusk-dirtied sky, [2] Suns, each blazing, scorched thy-- [e]mpty of want, only need remains [h]ung still like the drought between rain-- [r]emember thy flame which burns inside [9] times greater than any can abide. [n]o longer will thy hunger or thirst for more, [l]est thy flee, then diamond-locked will be the door. In Uzivni's closing lines, the garbled and demonic voices that had been barking around me took on new clarity. "Never leave us, Sebastian," Earl whined as I fingered him. "Please, fuck me, master!" Dr. Amar pleaded behind me. "I'll never be happy again, until I feel your cock inside me!" Mr. Grisham shrieked as I twisted my fingers in his hole. "Y-yeeeesssss, Master, please! FUCK ME!" Coach Scott laughed hysterically as my cock plunged as deep as it could be driven into him. I looked up and saw Uzivni stroking his cock slowly, and before long, a fountain of cum began to spray from his dick, engulfing the six of us. The cries for more erupted from the drowning demons that surrounded me. The arena began to flood with the viscous fluid, until I was neck deep in cum. The eyes of Uzivni were the last I saw before my body was completely submerged. * "AHHHH!" I shouted, jumping out of sleep. My breath was short, my skin sticky with sweat. I blinked through my sleep-ridden eyes to see that I was completely naked, my clothes neatly folded on the floor next to me. My chest, stomach, neck, parts of my face were covered in cum. My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. I looked at my trembling hands, webbed with a thick wad of cum. I was a mess. Thankfully, all of the sticky stuff was on me, and nothing else. My hand reached for my hole, still wet and loose from my dad earlier. I was piping hot to my fingers. I took deep breaths. Trying to regain control of my body once more. I hastily jumped out of bed and tip-toed to the bathroom. Cum ran down my skin, my cock bouncing out in the open for anyone to see if they were watching. I started the shower and got under the cold water, hoping it would snap me out of my lust-drunk daze. The second the spray of the shower stung me, I felt relieved. I watched the cum melt off of me like wax, pondering the dream I'd just had. I'd had dreams like it before, but why was this one so much more specific? The words coming out of each of their mouths. The means in which they all pined for me. The intricacy of their transformations. And...Uzinvi. My head continued to spin with questions throughout the rest of the week. In all of my classes, I did my absolute best to pay attention. Some students called me a teacher's pet, but I didn't care. The C I had in History was now a B. The F I had in Spanish was now up to a C. I knew that at this rate, I could catch up. I just had to stay focused. Something that was definitely distracting me from my need for dick was Shirley Benevidas. After our phone call, I started eating lunch with her and her friends. I started looking forward to it. She sat at a pretty popular table, a couple I knew from the swim team. She was so pretty. I couldn't help admiring her. Her hair that seemed so wild, her skin, soft. Everything about her was effortless. Like she didn't have a care in the world. Not to mention, she was a whiz in English class. Even though I was doing all the work myself, she coached me to go from a C to an A in English. Something that I never imagined happening. Especially with Coach Scott keeping me so busy all the time. All of this focus on school and friends was really helping me. Coach Sands seemed to be the most disciplined, and at the same time proud of my newfound focus. One time when I was going to use the restroom, I caught him coming out of the faculty restroom. A room that I knew from another encounter we'd had, had a lock on it. "Ooooh, fuck me, Mr. Sands," I groaned helplessly. Mr. Sands stood with my legs wrapped around his waist. My back pressed against the tile wall of the faculty bathroom, Mr. Sands's cock surged in and out of me. "Call me sir, do it, Smalls," Mr. Sands hissed, inches away from my face as he drove his dick into me. "Oh fuck me, sir," I whined, my dick throbbing. Needing to cum so badly. "I can't here you, fuckin' faggot," he hissed. "SIR YES SIR," I wailed. "YERRRRGH, FUCK YEAH, PRIVATE," he grunted, picking up his pace. His muscles rippled with each of his movements. His white teeth gritted together, and his jagged brows furrowed as he continued bearing into me. His pecs bouncing with each of his pelvic thrusts, veins curling up the side of his neck and at the peak of his forehead. I gripped my hands in his chest hair as he pressed me against the wall, fucking me standing up. "You fuckin' like that, maggot?" he spat. His eyes bloodshot with intensity, ready to shoot a second or third load into me. I'd lost track. "Yeeeeeesss, fuck me, sir. Fuck me!!" I whimpered, feeling his balls slapping against my ass. Things were different now, though. Mr. Sands appeared from the faculty restroom, cautiously. I met his eyes and nodded. He walked with me as I headed to the restroom. "Where's yer pass, Smalls?" he asked without looking at me. "Right, here...sir," I showed him Mrs. Ensalada's restroom pass. "Might need your attention in our restroom," he said. I glanced to my left, noticing him gripping the bulge in his pants. "Ummm," I said. As tempting as it was, I was in the middle of a test, and if I missed it, that would take a huge hit to my grade. "Not this time...sir," I said. He shrugged and smiled proudly. "It's here if you want it," he said. And with that we parted ways. Once I was back in Mrs. Ensalada's class, I felt proud of myself for being able to regain control. I was beginning to feel like a normal kid in this town, finally. Normal, except for one thing. When I wasn't with friends, participating in class, or working on homework, the cacaphony of sexual noise was in my brain. If I was sitting and listening to a teacher lecture for too long, the pencil in my hand would begin to transform. The skinny wood that rested between my lips would enlarge to the thickness of a fully hard cock. The pink eraser a voluptuous head, ready to spill forth cum. Without thinking the pencil would disappear into my mouth, the eraser tickling the back of my throat as I would try to imagine the man on the other end of that cock. Only until I would open my eyes would I see a group of students looking at me, laughing thinking that I was making a stupid joke. I would laugh back with them and set the now slobbery pencil on my desk before taking out another one. It was everything that I could do to keep from pulling out my cock in class, and beating off right in front of everyone, hoping to relieve the agonizing lust that I had inside of me. But I knew that even if I did, I would only be left to find another moment to beat off only a few short minutes later. It was a losing battle. The first week back at school finally came to a close. The side-ways looks that I had been used to were now starting to subside. The weird private conversations that my teachers would have with me were now long gone. I said by to Shirley at her locker and walked her to the concrete fork in the middle of the courtyard that led to the car pick up area as and to the building where I was supposed to go help Coach George afterschool. "Call you after dinner?" she asked. "I should probably call you," I said. "I don't know what the phone lines are gonna be like at home." "Ha, Mommy Mayor's got everyone working overtime, huh?" she asked. "Mommy Mayor from hell, is more like it," I quipped. She giggled in return. "I won't wait up like some kind of stalker girlfriend," she said. The word "girlfriend" jolted my brain. "See ya!" she said and went off in her own direction. I'd never had a girlfriend before. I was almost stunned in my tracks. I tried to encase Shirley's nonchalant attitude and think nothing of it. I wondered how my dad would react. Would he be proud of me? Would he want to meet her? Things were happening so fast, so I tried to focus on the task at hand, hoping that working with Coach would help pass the time. I couldn't help but remind myself of the fact that I hadn't had a single inch of cock in a week, I felt like I deserved some kind of medal. Something to hang around my neck that proved that I'd made it this long. As I made my way to Coach George's class for my after-school volunteering, I found an Orange Crush bottle cap in the dirt right outside the building. I stooped over and picked it up, brushing the dirt off the ridges. I examined it, wondering how long it had been sitting there. "Seven days," I said softly to myself. I slipped the bottle cap in my pocket and headed into Coach George's class. By the time I'd arrived, I noticed Coach George had already started with getting his Monday classes prepared for a lab. I loved being in his class after school. No students around. It made me feel like I was in my own private class. I knew that Coach George was free to pass on my offers to help him out whenever he wanted, but for whatever reason, keeping me busy seemed important to him. "Hi, Coach George. Whatcha need help with?" "Ah, Sebastian," Coach George said, setting down a series of long yet thin boxes. "You do know it's Friday, right?" he asked humorously. "I know. But I remember you saying that we had a lab that we were going to do on Monday. You probably need help with that right?" I asked politely, setting my backpack down on the tile floor. "Well, I won't turn down the help," he said. His voice was deep yet at the same time not gravelly like my dad's. It was a reason that I was able to stay so focused when listening to him during lecture. Coach George set down the last remaining boxes next to a similarly stacked pile. "What are you working on?" I asked approaching him from the other side of the lab table. He was wearing a spirit shirt that barely fit him. The decals of our school's mascot, the bears, was faded along with the blue color of the shirt. With that, he was practically bulging out of it. He was wearing thin gym shorts, a mesh blue color to go with the shirt. He was either going to football practice, or he'd just come from it. Coach George raised his arm to grab a couple of handouts from a filing cabinet. The dark pit stains that were small underneath Coach George's arms led me to believe that he had already had football practice. His skin was dark against his salt-and-pepper beard and hair. I watched his bicep flex as he continued getting materials set up. My dick twitched in my shorts thinking about what was beneath the rest of his shirt. "I've already polished the microscopes," he said, casually. "Last year, my class really did a number on these slide samples." He opened one of the boxes, and from them came little glass rectangles spilled out of it. "Each of these boxes is supposed to have 24 different slides, placed in numerical order." I looked at the mess that sat before me. "As you can see, there's a lot of work to do in order to get all 24 slides in each individual box." "Oof, you're not kidding," I said. The thought of sorting and putting each individual slide where it needed to go actually seemed like a great distraction. "My mother--my mother's assistant," I corrected, "won't be here until 5, so I can get it done." "Perfect," he said. "I gotta meet with my team at 6 before the game," he explained. "Mind if I grade over here?" he asked. "Nope," I said, before coming around the table to start working. Coach George showed me that if I held each slide up to the light, I should be able to see a small number at the middle of each set. 1-24. That would tell me where each slide needed to go. We set up each of the boxes on a big lab table and piled up the slides in the middle. From there I could easily start searching and sorting. Coach George got out of my way and moved over to his desk situated at the front of the room. I took to my task almost like a robot. I would hold a slide up to my eyes and find the number that Coach George was talking about, and search for the empty slot that was missing that number. The satisfying sensation of a slide slipping right where it needed to go, especially the feeling of completing a whole set and closing the lid on top of my work, fitting snug around the edges of the cardboard. Every once and a while I would look up and notice Coach George looking at me. It was as though he was in between grading, and I was catching him sneaking at look at me. Not so much to check to see that I was on task, but that he was trying to check...me. His brows would be furrowed, his shoulders hunched and tight. I did my best to avoid Coach George's eyes, knowing fully what would happen if we made eye contact, especially in my vulnerable horny state. In between slide placements, I noticed him rubbing his eyes, as though he were tired. I thought of how awesome it would be to have this hulk of a manpower into me right here on the lab table. How that would relieve his stress. How it would give me the powerful cock that I so desperately needed. I shook my head wildly, hoping to drive the thought out of my mind. In doing so I haphazardly knocked one of my finished boxes off of the table. The box fell to the floor with a crash, sending glass slides spilling every direction. "Ah! I'm sorry," I said, jumping off of the lab stool that I was sitting in. I dropped to the floor and started picking up each slide one by one carefully but hastily, knowing that they were probably expensive. Coach George jumped up from his desk and bent down near the mess trying to help. "I think I must have spaced out. I just--" At the sound of Coach George's knees popping as he squatted in front of me, my eyes couldn't help but glance in front of me. Hanging out the right side of Coach George's blue mesh shorts was a single testicle, dark and leather, wiry hairs spidering in all directions. Darting my eyes away, I ended up coming across the tip of Coach George's cock poking slightly out of the left opening of his shorts. "Happens all the time," he said breathing heavily as he picked each slide up one by one. "Surprised more of these aren't missing, to be honest," he added. Coach George's powerful and hairy thighs bounced and twitched as he continued stacking each of the glass slides in his hand. As Coach George continued adjusting his ankles, his shorts continued to ride up the length of his thighs. Slowly Coach George's second nut flopped out of the right side of his shorts, swinging freely between his legs. The shaft of his cock twitched along his left thigh, slowly growing by the second. In my own shorts, I could feel my dick swelling, unable to ignore the mist of sexual tension between us. My erection was throbbing against the fly of my shorts, dying to be set free after a week of no dick. At the same time, could feel the outline of the Orange Crush bottle cap digging into my thigh through my pocket, a reminder of my own progress. I chose to avert my gaze and focus on picking up my mess. I reached my hand to pick up the last of the slides on the floor, and just as my fingers touched the edges of the glass, I felt Coach George's hand meet mine. His hand was massive compared to mine. I could have instinctively pulled my hand away, and he could have pulled his away. But we didn't. We just sat there; his hand rested on mine. "I, uh..." Coach George mumbled. His cock twitched even more, growing harder by the second his shorts sliding up his leg. His gym shorts became nothing but a blue thong, a stripe of mesh fabric separating his shaft from his balls. "I think that's the last one left." He cleared his throat, unwavering from his position. "Y-yeah," I responded. "I think so." Coach's hand gripped mine softly, before turning it over to reveal the last one. "#12," he recalled. "That's an aphid. A tiny bug that feeds on the leaves of plants." I looked up at him as he was explaining the species I held in the palm of my hand. "Other than leaves, they suck the sap out of nectar producing plants." His cock twitched as he continued talking. "A real pest for farmers and bees," he explained. "Uh...uh-huh," I said, stupidly. My mouth began to water. My vision grew misty with delusion. It was as though simply the sight of Coach George's dick was enough to flip a switch in my brain forcing me to only think about swallowing it whole. Nothing else. "I can't thank you enough, Sebastian," he said calmly, my hand still in his. "F-for what?" I asked. "For all your help," he said, gripping my hand. "This classroom has been a better place because of you." Coach George began slowly guiding my hand toward his waist. My fingers grew limp, causing the slide to fall to the floor once again. Slowly my fingers grew closer to his waist, and almost instinctively, my hand unfurled itself and gripped hold of Coach George's dick, causing him to gasp in response. My eyes widened as I felt the heat of Coach George's meat in my hand. I didn't stroke him, squeeze him or anything. I just held him there. "H-ho," he whispered exasperatedly. I looked up at his face. His eyes were telling me that he wanted me. That he'd been wanting me for a while. Coach George licked his lips, his grey stubble swarmed around his face looked so enticing. I began to fantasize about how it would feel scraping against the length of my asshole. "Seh...Sebastian," he whispered. "I-I..." A whirlwind of thought swept through me. This was wrong. I could prevent this from going further. I had to do well in school. I had to. "I-I gotta go, Coach," I said, lurching my hand away from his cock like it was a poisonous tarantula. I shot to my feet and grabbed my backpack before racing out of the classroom. "See you Monday!" I called. I walked out of the building in panic, trying not to draw attention to myself, heading to the parking lot where my mother was supposed to have me picked up. My dick was like a wild animal in my shorts. I limped as I attempted to adjust myself, praying that my erection would go down. It was no use. I shoved my hands in my pocket, trying to twist my meat in a way that wasn't so conspicuous. As I approached the parking lot, I was bombarded by a series of images that reminded me of sex as though I was in a funhouse. A hallucinatory maze of lust that was making me dizzy. The flagpole at the center of the courtyard took the shape of a massive dick, cum spraying from its tip like a fountain. I shook my head and focused on the ground. The creases of the sidewalk became the asses that I longed to have my face buried in, rife with the smell of masculinity. I rubbed my eyes in panic. The bricks of the building became the texture of naked flesh. The clouds above resembled pubic hair. The trees took the form of naked giants, ready to abuse my hole. "Sebastian?" I heard a familiar voice. "Big guy?" My world turned back to normal, and I saw Chance sitting in the driver's seat of a shiny red sports car. I rolled my eyes and approached his car. "Ready to go home?" he asked. "Promise I'm not gonna kidnap ya," he said with a smile. I yanked on the passenger side door and slipped inside the car. I dropped my backpack to the floor in frustration. "Doin' okay?" he asked. His chipper voice was like a hand that had my cock in a grip. Anything was enough to get me off. "Don't talk to me. Please," I said tersely, immediately covering my eyes with the inside of my arm. My other hand wedged between my legs, trying to stifle my erection. My legs bouncing trying to do anything to distract myself. "Whoa, buddy. Have a bad day at scho--?" I reached over and cranked the volume on his car, blaring Nirvana as we pulled out of the school parking lot, drowning out the sounds of Chance's voice. The blasting bass ripped through my ears, drowning out my senses. My thighs gripped my hand, my cock pulsing against my hand. I wrapped my free arm around my eyes, blocking out anything but the music. "Hello, hello, hello, hello--" the raspy voice of Kurt Cobain rattled against my ribs. With each wave of the bass, I felt my balls rolling tighter against the shaft of my cock. "Hello, hello, hello, hello." The crashing of the drums sent me into overdrive. "MMMMPH!" I squeaked, trying to remain inaudible beneath the music. My thighs closed like a vice around my forearm, my hips slowly gyrating against my own arm until I began cumming in my shorts. "UNNGHH!!" I did my best to keep my moaning to myself. "HUNNGH," I groaned through my nose, feeling my underwear fill with my hot and sticky load. Chance reached over to the volume knob and made the music softer. "Sebastian," he said, sounding worried. "Are you alright?" My breath was labored and quavering. My fingers jutting outward stiffly as if any contact with my skin would send me into a lust-filled breakdown. "I-I'm fine...just...need to go home," I said, still covering my eyes. My cock continued to twitch, making my body jerk with soft spasms of pleasure. I took deep breaths trying to regain my focus. By the time Chance reached our driveway, I hardly waited for the car to stop before I pushed open the door and jumped out with my backpack making a sprint toward the front door. Once inside, I bounded up the stairs, racing toward my room. With a slam of the door, I threw down my things and instantly started ripping my clothes off. I was in nothing by my shoes, my cock throbbing between my legs. I fell to my knees, watching my cock bouncing before me, sticky from my previous load, and still leaking, ready for more. I was paralyzed with pleasure. I needed to get off somehow. In some way. I saw my cum-soaked underwear and without thinking reached for them. My fingers fumbled with the fabric finding the richest source of cum, and with a forceful shove, I planted the fabric in my mouth, sucking on the cum off my briefs. My eyes rolled back in my head, my body filling with uncontrollable desire. I glared at each corner of my room, disdained by the idea that I left Coach George's classroom so quickly. What I wouldn't give to have him here in my room right now, fucking my brains out? How could I pass up such an opportunity? I needed something in my ass, and I needed it now. I dug through my discarded backpack. Journals, pencils, notebooks. Nothing that would serve as a makeshift dick. I growled in frustration before sliding my fingers into my mouth, getting them wet with my spit. I fell backward with my legs in the air, instantly driving one and then two fingers in my ass. "Mmmmph," I whimpered, my eyes shut tight, trying to imagine Coach George's dick once again. Trying to trace the taste of his meat in my mouth after touching him. I slid a third finger into my hole, digging deep into my ass. "Rrrrrngh," I growled as my back began to arch, fucking myself with my hand. I bridged my spine, bouncing up and down on my wet fingers, imagining that Coach George was fucking me in classroom right on the tile floor. My balls juggled in the palm of my hand as my fingers danced along my prostate, sending me over the edge. "HUNGGH..HUNNGHHH..AAAGH!" I grunted as cum began to fly from my tortured dick, raining along the length of my chest and stomach, shooting clear into the air. My legs trembled as I continued bouncing up and down on my fingers, prompting more cum to squirt from my dick. My face twisted in agony as I tried my best to find that satisfying orgasm deep inside of me. It was as though I had a sneeze stuck in my nose, and it wasn't coming out, but it was so tantalizingly close. The toe-curling feeling of being so close to release. But it would never come. My cock continued to shoot wad after wad of cum, but it was almost as though my body was disconnected from my dick. I slowly continued rising and falling on my fingers, feeling my hole clench around the joints that were plunging in and out of it. The breath coming out of my mouth was hot. A deep and unavoidable heat began to sweep over me, as though my bedroom was changing into an oven. I was glazed in sweat, pools of it collected in my tightened neck. "Hmmmmmph....rrrrrgh," I twisted and writhed, shoving my fingers in and out of me, trying to conjure up the orgasm I needed, but it was no use. I was a mess, painted in cum, but with no satisfaction. I flattened my body on the carpet and trying to still my mind. It was no use. My hand couldn't keep from digging around in my hole. Gripping my taint as though it were an orange to be squeezed. My arms shook from the overexertion of my muscles, trying to provide me with pleasure. I was beginning to believe that this would never end. I would be trapped in this perpetual chain of masturbation. It was as though I was possessed by something, forcing me to continue fucking myself, forcing me to continue milking the endless supply cum from my overloaded balls. From my shorts, I saw the Orange Crush bottlecap roll from my pocket. A reminder that I was in control. I gripped the bottlecap in my hand while gritting my teeth, feeling its sharp ridges digging into my skin, doing anything to distract myself from the intense prison of lust that I'd found myself in. My fingers fell from my asshole, shining with my saliva. My breathing was short and shuddering, my naked chest rising and falling with each deep belly breath I continued to take. Finally, my weak legs found the strength to begin supporting me. I stood back up, warm cum snaking down my skin and found my bearings. I clumsily set the bottlecap on my desk and headed to the bathroom to take a cold shower, peeking out of the door to make sure no one would notice me. I weakly pushed myself into the bathroom, stumbling along the floor as though I were drunk. I stepped into the shower and twisted on the water. The cold water was an instant relief. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the wall, watching as my cum melted from my body. I took deep breaths as though I'd just finished swimming a distance race. My cock continued to twitch violently. I was afraid to touch it as though it my spring back to life, forcing me to crumple into a distorted state of lust all over again. Finally I began to relax, feeling soothed by the water. Once I felt like myself again, I turned off the water, and wrapped a towel on my waist, heading back to my room. I couldn't keep going on like this. I had to figure out a way to keep control. I could only imagine if I had an episode like this while at school. How embarrassing it would be. How the rest of the school would react. Me, inconsolably fucking myself with anything I could find, in the middle of math class. I would be kicked out of school for good. It was around 6 PM. Tomorrow morning, we had a weekend swim practice that was supposed to be the last meeting before our first competitive meet. Whatever happened tomorrow, I could not make a scene in front of the team. If anything, I had to be better, faster, and stronger than everyone. To show that this incident with Daddy hadn't thrown me off my game. That I was still valuable to the team. It was the first chance that I wanted to prove to not just Coach Scott or the team that I was ready, but to myself. Swimming was the only thing I had that I still enjoyed. Genuinely enjoyed. The only other thing I had besides sex. And I was trying my best to abstain. I figured I would try calling my dad and telling him about what's been going on. With my phone in my hand, relieved to hear only the steady tone to let me know that no one was using the phone. Lisa was at a friend's for the weekend, and I hadn't seen my mother yet. Probably at some fundraiser. I waited after entering in my dad's new number, hoping he would answer. "Yello'?" I heard. I felt my throat close up at the sound of my dad's voice. I clenched my eyes shut, trying not to get aroused again, hoping to maintain control. "H-hi, Dad," I said. "Oh, son," Dad exhaled. "I'm so glad to hear yer voice," he said. His voice was considerably lower than normal. "Me too, Dad," I said, smiling. "I-I...I had a weird day," I said. "What's goin' on?" he asked, concerned. "Well...something happened," I said. I wasn't sure how to explain what happened. Coach George invited me to touch his dick. I knew that anymore stories like that, and I would be in more deep trouble that I already was. "Are you okay?" he asked. "I don't know." "Well...tell me what happened." I thought carefully how to tell this story. "I...I got really, um, horny at school..." I started. "Wait," he stopped me. "Is anyone listening?" "Um...no, I don't think so." "Well, just...say it differently, Seb," he said. "Differently?" "Yeah, just...use a code or something," he continued. "O-okay...well..." I tried to think of how to explain what happened to me without really conveying exactly how it happened. I thought back earlier to how it felt like I really needed to sneeze, but nothing would happen, and chose to go with that. "...I really needed to...sneeze today," I explained. Dad started laughing. "Haha, okay, it happens." "Well, I mean. I REALLY needed to. It's been over a week since I last...sneezed." "That's a long time, Seb," he said. "Sneezed on your own? Or someone made you sneeze?" "Both, Dad. It's been really hard, because I have really bad...allergies," I said. "I know, son. You just need to let it out sometimes," he explained. "Well, after school today with Coach George, he had some pollen in class, and--," I paused. "I was having a really bad...allergic reaction to it," I explained. "How bad?" he pressed. "I had to run out of the room right away, or else I was going to start sneezing," my voice thin, somewhat sad. "Is...is that all?" he asked. "No! And then, I got in that campaign assistant's car--Chance?--and he had on this really strong cologne, and it really made me need to sneeze. So bad that I..." I stopped again. "What happened, Seb?" "I sneezed in his car," I admitted. "You...he fucked you in his car?" he said softly. "No, Dad. I just...you know...in my shorts," I said ashamed. "W-wow, son. Not even I've...done that," he said startled. "And when we got home, I ran to my room and sneezed a bunch more times. And now I'm...I'm just worried about my allergies. I know I need to focus in school, and I'm really trying, but, sometimes I just can't stop myself. What if I start sneezing in class? What if I can't control it?" I bombarded my dad with questions. "I know. I know it's hard, Seb," he started. "I miss you, son." "I miss you too, Dad. Why...why can't I just come live with you? Everything would be so much better." "I wish," he explained. "With the things are right now, it'll just have to be on our every other Sunday visits until your mother changes her mind or gives us more time." My cock twitched beneath the bath towel just thinking about the endless possibilities of what we could do. Even in just a short day. "Just think," he continued. "the more you hold in those sneezes throughout the days leading up to our day, how good it'll feel to let it all out." "Y-yeah," I said. "Can't wait for this Sunday." "Me too, Seb," he said distantly. "Anything else goin' on?" "No, that's it, Dad," I said. "Well, get some rest. You got practice tomorrow don't you? "Yeah," I said. "Thanks, Dad. I love you." "I love you, too," he responded. I listened to the click of the phone. Took a deep breath and picked it back up to call Shirley, not knowing when I would have the phone next. "Hello?" a man's voice answered. I wasn't entirely soft from my phone call with my dad, so being hard while listening to another man's voice wasn't helping. "Hi, is Shirley home? This is Sebastian." "You again?" he asked. "U-um, yeah," I said dumbly. I heard him exhale slowly. "You her boyfriend or something?" "U-uh...I dunno." "Right," he said, suspiciously. His voice went away and was replaced by Shirley's. "Hey! It's later than I was thinking, but, cool, I guess!" "Yeah, sorry, I got wrapped up at home. Who answered, by the way?" I was curious who was on the other end, both times I picked up the phone. "Ugh, my older brother. He's a senior. He talks to his girlfriend all the time. I swear. They really just need to get him his own number." "Haha, that's funny." We continued talking normally. I could feel my dick getting softer. I was able to just focus on the conversation, which was a nice relief from only an hour or so earlier. We talked for a good thirty minutes about school, our weekend, anything that seemed to come up. All the while, I still hadn't gotten dressed from my shower. Naked with a towel around my waist. "Hey, would you maybe want to come over for dinner? My dad makes his own spaghetti, and he said he wanted to have a big Italian dinner next week. How about Monday afterschool? We didn't have swim practice like we normally did, but we were expected to practice on our own, especially as the temperature was starting to get cooler in the evenings. "Uh, yeah, that sounds really great! I'll ask to make sure that it's okay," I added. Eventually my mother picked up the phone and started dialing. Shirley started laughing. "I guess that's my cue, huh?" she asked. "Yeah, sorry," our voices were broken up by the different tones of my mother dialing buttons. "I'll call you tomorrow to let you know if dinner is okay," I said. "Awesome. It's a date," she replied. That word made my heart skip. A date? I have a date with a girl? We both hung up the phone. I spun around, giddy with excitement. I had a date! I quickly got dressed and dashed downstairs to ask if it was okay if I could have dinner on Monday with Shirley. When I got there, my mother was dressed up as though she was about to go out. "What do you mean the reservation was for 6 and not 16. That's a really different number, Jennifer," she snapped. "Well, fix it." My mother hung up the phone before picking it back up to call a different number. "Hi this is Lori Smalls, mayoral candidate. I have a dinner in fifteen minutes at your establishment, and someone mistakenly made a reservation for 6 instead of 16. Is there any way we can fix this?...No? Well...how about a bit of a donation from the Smalls campaign. $100. Just for you?" I jumped in right as she was in the middle of bribing the host over the phone. "Can I have dinner at Shirley's house on Monday?" "What? Yes. Whatever. Can you go grab the mail?" She was obviously distracted. Didn't even hear what I said. "Did you hear me? Can I go to someone's house for dinner? A girl's house?" "Yes. Monday. It's fine. I'm not home anyway," she said tersely. "You're...sure?" I asked, in a sort of disbelief. "Yes! Now would you please go and get the mail?" She turned away from me and continued with her conversation. I rolled my eyes and headed out the door. The air was nice and warm. Nights like these always reminded me of camping with my dad. The air is just warm enough to where it's easy to be outside. The sun is just starting to go down. Fireflies are in the air. Crickets are chirping. As I passed each house down Knottingham Lane, I observed each of the windows with their golden glow. My brain thinking about the people in each of those houses. How when I first arrived here only a few months ago, how alien this place seemed, and now, even without my dad being with me, it was beginning to seem more like a home. Eventually I reached the mailboxes. I slipped in the key that went with ours, reached inside and pulled out a thick stack of envelopes, all for my mother. I paused in my tracks and saw the ditch just a few more paces. I stuffed the mail under my arm and traversed carefully down the slope of the concrete ditch, climbing my way up the other side. As I reached the barbed wire fence that separated the property from the rest of the neighborhood, I was surprised to see a totally green and fertile field compared to the endless stretch of dirt that I'd seen before. There was actual life on this farm, rather than wasteland. In the distance was the shack that the farmer lived in, except it was no longer a shack, but a nicely painted cabin. I couldn't fathom how so much change had happened in a few short months. Outside the cabin, I saw the farmer. The man who gave me this curse that I kept inside of me. He was carrying a heavy looking bag inside. Still wearing the denim overalls I remembered from long ago. My eyes were transfixed on him. Not just as a figure of desire, but some unexplainable force was keeping my head locked into the position I was currently in. Watching his every move. I couldn't look away. Suddenly a breeze swept through my hair. The grassland that the farmer had cultivated shimmered in the evening light. As though through some sort of psychic feeling, the farmer stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly he turned around, like someone had tapped him on the shoulder. I watched him as he turned his head every which way, trying to find the source of his disturbance. Finally, he looked in my direction. Hastily he went back into his cabin, leaving the bag he was carrying behind. * The farmer knew I was there. Not just someone. Me. As I ran home from getting the mail, my dick stirred in my shorts. I grew fearful that I was about to have another episode, just like the one that I'd had earlier that day. When it happens, I don't know how to make it stop. It just takes control of me. Every heartbeat and breath is spent trying to cum. The thing is, even after I cum, one, two, three times, there's no change. I need more. With each stride I took toward home, I could feel it happening again. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to being in that space. I clutched the mail closer to my side, trying not to think about it. By the time I reached home, I felt as though I was seconds from cumming. I burst through side door and tossed the stack of mail messily on the table before dashing upstairs. Once I reached my room, I fell to my hands and knees, trying to take deep breaths. Trying to remind myself that I was in control. Trying to tell myself that in two days, my dad and I were going to be together. That was the wrong thing to think about. "Nnngh," I whimpered, clutching the bulge that was quaking in my shorts. "Nnnn-gh...no..." I whined. I rested my head on my forearms, my ass in the air. "S-stop...I don't w-want to..." I could practically hear my dad's voice in my head. "C'mon Seb, I've been waiting so long for this," he said. "D-dad...I...I can't," I whispered. "Just show it to me, son," he said. It was like there was two of him. Two voices in each of my ears. "Just let me have a peek at that beautiful hole of yours," he taunted. "I...you're not real," I whined. "You're not really here." "Seb, I'm here. I'm here to fuck you. Please don't say no to me." My hands clenched together. I had to resist. I had to ignore this voice in my head. "Lemme give you my big fuckin' dick, son," he teased. "I haven't felt that ass huggin' my meat in too long." He begged. Pleaded. Said things to me that were nasty and sick, but at the same time drawing me in. "D-dad...please," I begged. "C'mon, Seb. I wanna hear you scream my name as I plunge into you. The dick that made you." His voice echoed in my brain. "Mmmph, Dad...y-you...I need you," I whispered. I felt my knees burning into the carpet of my bedroom. "I need your cock," I groaned as my ass shot into the air, my hands pulling apart my cheeks. Precum pumped from my dick, dribbling to the carpet beneath me. "I need you," I whimpered. Suddenly, I felt my ass splitting apart. The sensation of a thick cock sinking into me. "NNNNGH!" I whined. I turned my head and a blurry vision of my father, in all his naked glory hunched behind me. His chest twitching as his body pushed forward, burying his meat into me. "Unnngh, yes, Dad, fffffffugggg," I grumbled, practically foaming at the mouth. "Where do you feel me?" my dad huffed. "Tell me where you can feel me," he snarled, pushing further into me. "I-I...unghhhh, y-you're...your cock is so deep in me," I whispered. "Deeper?" he asked. I felt him drive further into me. Further than I ever thought possible. "UNNNNGH, YERRRRRRRGGGGGH!" I roared, burying my face into the carpet. "Hunghhhh! You...you're so deep, Dad, I can...I can feel you in my stomach!" "You hungry for it? Y'want me to fill you up?" he taunted; his breath hot as fire in my ear. "Yes, Dad, p-please. Fuck me. Fuck me. PLEASE fuck me!" I groaned helplessly, arching my back, allowing him further into me. Dad took no hesitation to begin lifting his body off the floor, slamming his cock into me. "Yes, son, feel me. Feel me inside of you," his breath like warm honey on my neck. "Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmmph! YEERGGHH!" I grunted, feeling Dad's balls whipping against my ass as he continued chaotically fucking my brains out. My balls rolled against my shaft, precum spritzing my chest, my elbows, creating a sticky mess. "Oh, God, Dad...yer gonna make me cummmm!" "That's right, Sebastian," he grunted, continuing to pound into me. "Spray your load," he commanded. I was helpless to resist. "ERRRNNNNNGH!" I squealed as I bit my finger. Cum began surging from my cock, a wad hitting me square in the chin, the rest gumming itself into the carpet below, a waste of good seed. "Unnnngh, yes, Dad, fuck me. Fuck me 'til you cum." Dad's dick throbbed inside of me, and I knew he was ready to bust soon. "Keep fuggin' meeee," I grunted. My cock spun on my waist, cum continuing to leak from my meat. "Nnngh, yes, son. I'm about to pump my load into you," he said gruffly. Dad's body slammed into me five more times, slowly and slower as his body expelled each wad of cum, boiling hot in my guts. "Grrrrrrrrngh!" he growled. "RAAAAGH!" he raged on, his cock pulsing and pulling apart my anal ring. Cum seemed flow endlessly from my dad's cock and I wondered when it would stop, but continued bathing in the ecstasy his dick was bringing me. My prostate buzzed with need, a continuous nagging feeling that continued to stir inside of me. I didn't worry, as Dad would just fuck me again. Maybe I could ride him, maybe I could look into his eyes as he would bear into me once more. I turned to face him. "Dad, you wanna f--huh?" The man who I could have sworn was my father, vanished. I was alone in my room. I spun around and sat on the carpeted floor of my bedroom. I was dumbfounded. What had just happened? I could have sworn that my dad was in the room with me. The meatiness of his dick was so lifelike inside of me. His voice in my ears sounded pitch perfect. It had to have been him. The sky was dark. An hour had to have passed. I jumped to my feet, my cum still fresh on my body. I pushed open the blinds at my window to see the driveway. To see if Dad's truck was there. Nothing. Just my mother's black car. Had I just imagined the whole thing? My fingers ran against my hole. Wet, slick, slightly loosened, as though I'd just gotten done getting fucked. A chill ran through me. I peeked into the hallway to see if anyone was still awake. Total darkness. My alarm clock read 2:35 in the morning. Where did all the time go. Questions filled my mind like water into a bucket. I needed answers. All of the dreams that I was having. These uncontrollable urges. What was happening to me? Who could possibly understand what I'm going through? Just as that thought entered my mind, I knew exactly who I needed to see. ******************************************************* Chapter 21 to follow. https://tinyurl.com/[_][_][_][_][_][_][_][_] Please email hjk7359@hotmail.com for feedback, questions, or constructive criticism. Thank you for reading.