First and foremost, please consider any underage characters as being legal age actors portraying youth. Somethings should really be kept to fantasy where they can’t hurt anyone. As a victim of sexual abuse I can tell you there’s no Lolita’s out there. Even boy’s who “want” it (goodness knows I did) aren’t ready for sex with an adult.
That being said, fantasies are a beautiful thing, a chance for us to live out and enjoy experiences in an environment where no one can get hurt. A chance to explore exciting dynamics between men we can’t (or perhaps shouldn’t) in real life. I would not have been able to share this story without Nifty, and I strongly encourage you to donate. If you read the sex positive books of the seventies and you could see there was a time where pedophilic fantasies were written about with candor and without judgement. Now Nifty is one of the only forums people can fully explore these parts of our sexuality, parts I at least think, when limited to fantasy, are completely natural and healthy. So by all means please consider donating to nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.
This story was written with a few things in mind, but if you don’t want spoilers or a probably rather boring exposition on my own writing I suggest you skip ahead. Things start right off in chapter one- this is erotica after all, I tried to make the story emerge from the sex and not have you read through a bunch of the dry bits to get into the thick of it.
I came up with the idea of this story while writing another one- I had been searching for a reason, even a fantastical one, that would justify these larger than life sex scenes found in a lot of the erotica online. An entire family of men across three generations having an orgy is great, but if you expect me to believe all it takes for a grandfather to fuck his grandson is catching him in the act with his father I just can’t. I wanted something that justified the whole thing, that would let me suspend my disbelief and really get into what was happening.
I wanted to write and incest story about a father and son, the inherent dominance of the dad was something that seemed like it’d be fun to play with. But most the stories I wrote felt hollow, I couldn’t really believe these dad’s I was writing would fuck their son.
Listening to the radio when they were talking about yet another coach abusing his students, I heard the host refer to the offender as a monster, and I began to run with that. What if that figurative monster inside of us was real, what if it took someone over? I thought of how some people say the devil makes gay people and I thought it would be fun to play with that too.
The following story is a convergence of these ideas. It’s a story about the monsters inside us, about a devil that loves to make dudes fuck, about fathers and sons, dominance and control. It’s about experiences that can only exist in fantasy, magic crap, pedo-fantasies, stuff like that. But it’s not about those things either. Really it’s just an elaborate excuse to set up some larger than life father and son sex scenes.
I enjoy feed back, so long as it’s not in reference to my spelling- I’m dyslexic as all fuck and do by best, so shove off on that. Please send any request, and feedback to firstname.lastname@example.org. This is being written as a three parter, and the plot is already locked in, but I don’t mind suggestions for sexual pit stops to take on the way to the end of this story. Absolutely do not send me any pictures, unless they are of yourself and at legal age. I don’t want to have to wrestle with reporting something illegal.
Okay enough of all that, onto the story.
Part One: The Demon Child
I woke up in pitch darkness, trying to reach out to the light. I realized a heavy pressure was on my chest and that I couldn’t move.
I’d had had enough night terrors to know what was going on. But even knowing it was just a waking dream couldn’t keep my pulse steady as I became aware of the small figure straddling my chest.
I suddenly heard a low hum, almost like a deep note on an organ, and the room lit as if by candle light although I could see no source. What I could see sent a new wave of fear and revulsion, the figure I was dreaming on my chest was my own son. Naked, and dead in the eyes.
It was all so vivid. I could feel his ass on my hairy chest, could even feel his little nut sack resting on me. I reminded myself that that it was a dream. The deep organ note was still playing and the surreal light proved that. But there was nothing dreamlike about how vivid the sensations and sight of my son was.
He slowly stood to his knees, his ass rising off my chest, but the intense pressure still there. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
He was hard. I felt a very real sick in my stomach looking at his three inch rod. I tried looking away but my paralysis extended so deep I couldn’t even blink let alone avert my gaze. Some distant part of me, buried in self loathing and the sheer horror tied in with the night terror, was a little interested to see how he was coming along. Last time I saw him hard was when he was in diapers and he’d stiffen up when I’d change him, at that point he maybe was just over an inch long.
I thought then how I’d come up with this image of a nine year old boy hard. I couldn’t remember seeing that or even how I looked hard at that age. And again the deep fear with this dream hit me. As impossible as it was it all seemed too real.
The image of my son’s little dick was practically burned into my retina. His cock head wasn’t too pronounced, his foreskin was bunched up at the tip, not pulled back even though he was hard. His cock was darker than the rest of his skin but still incredibly white, just like mine.
It seemed like we were like this for three minutes before he leaned his body forward, his little dick approaching my mouth. A hungry and sadistic expression crossed his face, the smile of a rapist, a monster, so incredibly out of place on my cherubic little boy’s face that it was more surreal than the increasingly more unnerving organ sound or the flickering candlelight with no source.
I tried to cry out, I strained so hard to turn my face that I got a nasty cramp from my chest to my ear. The searing pain just continued to build but I hardly felt it in my animal need to escape. My heart pounded louder and faster than ever.
I went completely hysterical, my mind was a cacophony of undelivered pleas for help and cries of disgust and horror.
I felt my sons cock on my lips. His bunched little foreskin touching my mouth like a kiss. I went numb, my mind suddenly silent, retreating. This wasn’t real, I told myself, over and over in the now numbing silence. All I could hear was the deep low hum, and the one thought. This isn’t real, this is a dream.
He reached down and opened my mouth. I felt his cold little hand on my jaw, I felt his frenulum continue to brush on my lower lip.
He slipped inside my mouth.
I felt it all, his thin little rod filled my mouth if not with it’s size then with the sheer presence of it being my own sons dick. I felt the way his foreskin ran slack over his head, the smoothness of his dick in my mouth, tasted the acrid taste of his little boy dick, faint traces of urine and something musky, something I didn’t recognize well enough to notice how odd it was for a nine year old- the alkaline taste of testosterone.
The violation hurt more than the jabs of his stiff dick poking my tongue and back of my mouth. I had never thought of another man sexually, never wanted anything like this. I wanted more than anything to fight him off me but I was powerless and paralyzed. I felt despicable, unable to fight off my own boy. Unable to protect myself from the invasion of another man in my body. The fact that it was my own son using me added to my revulsion and despair. I tried to disassociate, to distance myself from what was happening to me, but my son’s voice brought me back to this impossible reality.
“Dad?” he asked, “Dad, what are you doing?”
His voice was crystal clear, and he sounded as scared as I was.
A new thought crossed my mind. What If I was sleep walking, what if I was really doing this? Again I felt like retching, I couldn’t do this to my little boy. There was no way. But I was feeling his little cock in my mouth so vividly. I could feel where my sons tiny little boy dick began and ended. I could feel the gliding of his foreskin, a feeling i knew so well from handling my own when jerking, but a feeling still alien and foreign in my mouth. And it was my son’s, giving the sensation a deep wrongness.
The one thought still rang in my head. It’s not real, it’s not real.
But it felt real, it tasted real, it sounded real.
He started thrusting in and out of my mouth, my own boy skull fucking me. He was as hard as if I had a metal rod in my mouth, his skin gliding gently along his stiff dick.
“Dad this feels weird.” He said, but underneath his words and whimpers I heard a deep guttural moaning, at the same level as the organ note. Like I had a lumberjack fucking my mouth and not my boy.
Maybe I’d had a total psychotic break. Maybe I was tied up in some dudes basement and he was using me and this was all just some self tormenting delusion. But I couldn’t convince myself it was a man using me. There was no doubt that the little dick in my mouth was a boy’s. The un-retracted foreskin and the small size was unmistakable even to someone who’d never had a child’s dick in his mouth before. Even if it was some man with a micro penis the hood should still roll back as he thrust in my mouth.
And I literally couldn’t close my eyes to the fact that it was my son pounding down on me. I may have never seen him hard but I’d seen him naked recently enough to know there was nothing off about him besides the bestial sneer and dead look in his eyes. It was my son fucking my mouth.
Tears stated flowing from my eyes. I was disgusted with myself. While I was doubtful I could dream something this real I couldn’t comprehend any other reality, and that thought disturbed me above any other explanation. How was this lurking in my head? Was I some deep seeded fag pedophile who wanted to suck his own boy? Even if I didn’t want it how could I sit with this scenario being inside me even in my darkest nightmare?
I had another mental breakdown. Screaming in my head. How could this be so real?
“Daddy? Please, this feels funny. I’m scared. Daddy.” he started crying, though his face betrayed no emotion, and under all this still a deep low voice was moaning louder and louder as he thrusted harder and faster into my mouth. His little rod stabbed and slid through my mouth. I could feel the bunched tip of his foreskin drag on my tongue. His little dick was so small it couldn’t even reach my throat.
“Yes. Suck my cock dad.” A voice that was not my son’s said, “Suck the cock you made. You disgusting fag, so low you’ll suck a cock a third your size. You’re a hole for a boy you worm.”
The voice spoke from my son’s mouth growing louder as the organ sound did.
My boy pulled his cock out of my mouth. The slick feeling of him pulling out was just as lewd and disgusting as him entering it. A line of my drool hang from his cock head to my lips, dripping down onto my hairy chest.
He leaned his face down to mine.
“You’ll love it soon enough daddy” the deep voice said.
He started licking up my tears.
He let out a deep and violent growl, like a man would when he would cum and he arched back up, shoving his cock in my mouth.
I moved for the first time since waking, but felt totally out of control of it. My tongue raced around his little boy cock, running around his short shaft and head and darting around his foreskin, trying to force entry. It was all incredibly smooth and hard. The acrid taste of his little dick was stronger at his hood. My lips closed around the base of his shaft and he was entirely inside me.
“Dad. Stop. Please Dad! I’m gonna pee-” he broke off or his voice got drowned out by the deep voices roar.
A torrent of cum poured in my mouth.
Everywhere it touched, it felt like the head of my cock when I cum. I was feeling a mind rending orgasm in my mouth. The thrust of my boy’s cock in my mouth felt like someone stroking my own piece after I’d shot, painful but exquisitely so, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my mouth and throat and even my stomach.
My son’s expression had changed, his mouth was slack and his eyes were rolled back in his head. I had a flash of seeing my cousin cum when he thought i was asleep when I stayed over at his house as a boy. This was a man’s orgasm, he was feeling it, overwhelmed by it.
He kept thrusting.
My body finally began to move. I spasmed, twitched, writhed under what was essentially post cum torture over my whole upper torso. I was still weeping when I made my first sounds, Moaning and crying, occasionally letting out a strange demented laugh all while his little dick was still in my mouth.
My own cock leaked like a faucet. Screaming for the same release I was feeling everywhere else.
My boy pulled out of my mouth again, sending waves of pleasure through my head and chest. I started crying openly at the relief of him not abusing my mouth any more.
He got off my chest, and I breathed fully for the first time since I woke up.
He got down to my feet, and I raised myself up to my elbows.
“What was that?” my boys voice again. uncertain, scarred as I had been before he shot in my mouth.
“You want to cum daddy?” the deep voice said, and let out a low rumbling laugh.
I was numb, my head was spinning. But my cock was still pouring out more precum then I thought it could.
“You gotta ask me dad.” It continued, “ask your boy to suck your cock.”
I shook my head no.
“Ask me.” It said, my boys mouth wasn’t moving. He sat at the end of the bed starring back at me. Dead in the eyes.
“Suck my cock.” I said. My voice cracked, my head spun.
“Who? Who do you want to suck your cock?” It asked.
It’s not real. It’s not real. So whats the harm? What can be bad about what I do in my head? Who can it hurt?
“Suck my cock son.” I said it weakly.
He grinned the twisted lewd grin again. He leaned down. My own son’s mouth opened and he took my whole nine inches to the hilt. My pubes were brushing my son’s nose. I could only see the crown of his buzzed blonde head.
“No dad, no please dad, what are you doing?” He said. His voice was deadpan, like someone sarcastically putting up a fight. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be talking, my cock must have been past his vocal chords.
He gave his head one bob and I unloaded. It didn’t feel like an orgasm, it felt like a day old bruise being rubbed. It was good but not orgasm good, it was panful but not fresh wound painful.
I felt more pulses of my load than I could count. He slipped of my dick and looked up at me. A line of my cum spilled from his lips. He was crying.
I woke with a start.
The sun was coming in through my white curtains almost idyllically.
My dream came back in a repulsive rush. I got out of bed and booked it to the bathroom where I wretched into the toilet.
“Dad?” My son called out to my from by bedroom door. I stood up unsteadily and walked out of the bathroom.
His white boxer shorts were soaked through. I could clearly see his little cock through the fabric. I felt a strange sense of relief as I saw he might be an inch longer than I had dreamed. It really wasn’t real.
But the images of that cock in my mouth, the sensation of him cumming in me flashed in front of me. I felt my own morning wood twitch painfully in the gym shorts that I slept in. I saw his eyes dart to my groin and he blushed, looking down at himself for the first time I could tell he was suddenly self conscious.
“Whats up buddy?”
“I think I wet the bed.” He said.
“Well, okay, we’ll go take care of it.”
We walked awkwardly to his room, my cock bobbing in my shorts. I willed myself not to go down. Another wave of nausea hit me as I tried to put the thoughts of the dream out of my head.
Stepping into his room there was no doubt that he hadn’t wet the bed, at least not as he thought. The smell of cum was pungent and stronger than I’d ever smelled it in one place before. But his bed was soaked, the wetness couldn’t have been from a wet dream, it would take a hundred loads to get the bed that inundated. I figured he’d sweat while he had his wet dream and leaned in to smell the bed.
Through and through it smelled like jizz. I looked quizzically at my son and quickly averted my gaze. His cock was still visible and I was surreally close to orgasming in the thick sent of my boys load. My head swam at that realization, that he was turning me on.
I reached my hand out to feel the wetness, trying to prove to myself it was just sweat. But my fingers ran over a slickness I knew was cum.
“You uh,” my voice broke, “You didn’t really wet the bed bud. Do you know what a wet dream is?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “we learned about it in health class.”
“Did you have any weird dreams last night?” I asked.
He turned scarlet red and looked down at the floor. I looked at him again, maybe more boldly since his gaze was averted. His little cock was stiffening before my eyes.
I knew he dreamed what I dreamed. I knew something was deeply wrong.
My own, full mast dick was leaking now. My son looked up at it.
“Dad?” He asked. The same uncertain voice from my dream when his cock was in my mouth and he called out to me, the same question, the same plea. I heard him say my name like this when his little uncut dick slid in and out of my-
I came, a dark stain spreading on my gym shorts, a stifled groan passing through my lips.
His eyes were bulging, his jaw slack. His cock twitched.
“I uh, I’ll clean this up. Get dressed for school.”
I went into my restroom and striped off my wet gym shorts. I was still hard as a rock, hadn’t gone down at all since I shot.
I looked smaller. I took stock of myself in the mirror. Had a slight case of dad bod, the same blonde hair and blue eyes of my son, the spit and image of him sans freckles. cheeks a bit chubby with age rather than chubby with youth like my boy’s. I was the same man I was the day before my twisted nightmare and the waking one taking it’s place, but my cock seemed smaller. I checked in profile in the mirror how it looked, Wrapped my fist around it. I knew my dick like a man can only know his own piece. It was smaller, maybe an inch shorter than before.
I shook the thought off. I had just shot a load, it must be shrinking from that.
I turned on the faucet and leaned over the counter to wash my junk in the sink, pulling my foreskin back. As I rubbed my hand over the exposed head under the running water my body was wracked by another orgasm, I shot six or seven weak dribbles down the drain.
“What the fuck?” I stepped back from the sink, incredulous.
I pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans. Even after my second load I hadn’t started going down. I got fully dressed and tucked my cock under my belt.
“I’ll be in the car.” I called out to my son and he came to join me a minute later. We drove in silence the first five minutes.
“Is there something wrong with me dad?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“They didn’t say there was supposed to be that much when they told us about it in class.”
“Your just growing up.” I said, my cock writhed in my jeans. I started to leak just talking to him. “Your gonna get hair on your body, your gonna start having new feelings- oh fuck.”
I shot my load, thinking of what my boy was feeling while he has his wet dream set me off. It poured out on my belly, darkening the spot on my tee where the tip of my tucked cock was. My son looked at my twitching tent and spreading stain. he said nothing.
“It’s normal.” I lied, “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Let me suck your cock son, oh yeah shoot in your dads mouth.” I cried out as I came for the second time on the drive home. As soon as I was out of sight of the school I whipped it out and started stroking. I hadn’t gone down and was still hard as I was busting my fourth load of he day.
The guilt, the disgust it was all still there. But I’d felt an unending lust since I woke up. I wanted my boy again. I wanted him in me. And that lust was only growing.
I called out of work as soon as I was home and booked it to my boy’s room. The smell was still strong and the bed was still wet. I laid down in it and stroked till I added my load to his. I was in ecstasy.
Five hours later I kind of came too. My cock finally started to go down after I orgasmed without shooting a load. I realized I was slick with my own cum and my son’s bed had nearly dried. I showered and washed his sheets, put on some dry clothes. About thirty minutes later I got hard again and jerked it to a family photo album. A picture of his mother brought me to my senses further, the guilt overwhelmed my lust and I packed away the album and my dick.
I cried for almost an hour before I went to pick up my son. I knew something was deeply wrong. I felt like I never woke up.
He was quiet when I picked him up, but by the time we had dinner things felt almost normal. I still looked at him all wrong. But there were no more awkward conversations, no more spontaneous orgasms and inexcusable cum stains.
I told my self it was just the after effects of a weird dream. that I should see my doctor, the cumming and the intensity of the dream might all be explained by a prostate issue. The rest was something I’d push out of my head and pretend didn’t happen.
When I went to bed that night I half believed it was over. The rest of me knew it’d only just begun.
I woke up in the darkness again. The pressure on my chest. The figure or my son in front of me.
My cock rose.
The deep organ note began and the candlelight like lighting sparked into existence. My son was straddling my chest, naked, beautiful.
He rose to his knees, his little cock loomed in front of me. It looked longer, but it was still thin. His hood was a little less puckered, like the head was growing and stretching underneath it.
“Dad,” he whimpered, “please do it again.”
his voice sounded pathetic but his face showed the same leering expression as the night before.
I didn’t need any more encouragement, I was surprised to find I could lift my head, I strained forward, darting my tongue out, licking the tip of his dick and the end of his bunched up hood.
“You have no idea how good this feels.” the deep voice said. My sons mouth moved with the words. “A boy’s body. My little boy cock can feel every touch in a way you’ve completely forgotten. It’s so fresh and painful. The pleasure overwhelms his body, every orgasm almost knocks your son out. But the feelings aren't enough to block out the shame. He wanted to kill himself today you know.”
He leans forward slightly, and now I can get the uncut head of my sons cock in my mouth. I suck on it frantically. Run my tongue around the hood. The taste of old semen and piss was stronger than the night before. I remember being a teen and trying to suck myself. The frustration of only getting my own head in my mouth felt like this. I want it so bad I stop breathing, give my all to sucking this little head.
“His coach walked by in gym. Your son popped a boner. Got hard in front of all his little friends. They pointed and giggled. The coach rushed out. He molested a boy eight years ago, moved schools twice since then but never felt safe again. Your boy tempted him. His tent turned his coach on. The coach turned your boy on. He already wants men like his father to suck him. But he’s fighting it. Not like you. I’ve never seen someone give in so quick. Not even a day later and your practically begging for his cock. You couldn’t even resist yanking on your hard on.”
My son leans forward, his little cock hits the back of my throat. I’m blissed out having access to the whole piece, I throw myself on my sons cock, impaling my head.
My son’s voice cried out in pleasure, “daddy.”
“He went into a bathroom stall after” The deep voice said, “and jerked thinking of his coach and you sucking him together. Your innocent little thing didn’t even know how to masturbate, I had to show him, guide his idle hands. When he came he couldn’t help but cry out. The other boys are talking about him now. In his shame afterwards he had his first suicidal thought.”
“I preferred your tears, the shame was so deep it was almost as good as orgasming with a boys cock. But his shame will do too. Even now as he slides in and out of his fathers mouth he loathes himself. He just thought about cutting it off so he can’t do this again. It’s exquisite too. Such anguish, such pleasure. so beautiful to see them together.”
He cums quicker this time with me actively getting him off, he shoots another massive torrent of cum down his dad’s throat. The effect is the same as before, everywhere his cum touches is wracked with an intense orgasm feeling. He continues to ride my mouth till my body is a wreck, writhing and thrashing, my tortured scream of pleasure and agony is muffled by my boys cock.
The leering grin leaves my boys face as he looks down at me. His expression is of disbelief, he caresses my face. I’m nearly crying from being so over the edge at the sensations in my mouth and gut but the guilt is all but forgotten. I want his dick in me.
“Can I suck you dad?” my boy says, his voice is weak and full of shame.
“Do it boy, suck the cock that made you.”
He pulls his cock out of my mouth with another painful waive of pleasure. He moves down and starts sucking my dick. He’s not aggressive about it like the night before, but slow and exploratory. He tries rolling the hood back, licking and tasting it before he sucks it down. He can’t get past the first three inches tonight, but it’s enough to get me off, in twenty seconds i’m shooting and he’s swallowing me down. It’s the same semi painful bruised feeling as the night before, but the sensation is still mostly one of relief. I moan as my boy swallows me.
The shame is back in the morning, but I still wake up with wood. The memories of the dream are mixed with equal parts pleasure and loathing now. While I’m trying to piss with my hard on I realize my cock looks even smaller. When I finish peeing I tuck my cock back in my boxers and book it to the garage, frantically searching for my measuring tape. I find it and pull it out, I measure up at a full seven inches. There’s no question about how hard I am- or how long I was. I feel as hard as steel now and was always proud of my nine inches. This was real.
My son came in the garage, my cock was still out on the measuring tape. His eyes snapped right to my rod as the tape snapped back into it’s wheel. His gaze on my exposed cock sent me over the edge and I started cumming, uselessly packing away my dick in my boxers where a dark stain spread while my dick lewdly twitched up and down.
My son’s white boxers were tented and transparent again. He was undoubtedly bigger than the day before. A sick feeling came over me as I began to suspect what was happening.
“Dad,” he tried to ignore what he saw but I saw him blush as he lost his words. His cock twitched.
I wanted it.
“Sorry buddy, I didn’t realize you were up. Is everything okay?”
“”It happened again.” He said.
When I entered his room the pungent sent of his cum hit me like a drug. I felt a rush in my dick, I knew if I hadn’t just busted I would again. His own cock hadn’t gone down and he pretty much seemed oblivious to my own hard on. Our constant state of arousal over the last day and morning had started to feel as close to normal as it could.
“I’ll wash them bud. It’s okay don’t worry about it.”
“Why is this happening?” he asked.
“Your just going through puberty.” I lied, “All guys have wet dreams.”
He silently starred at his mess.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?” I asked.
“Bad stuff.” he said quietly, shaking his head.
“It’s just a dream bud, you don’t have to worry about it. You can’t help what you dream.”
“I still want to do those things when I wake up though.”
“That’s normal too.” I said.
He looked up at me, he looked at my cock.
“Dad why are you getting hard so much.”
“After you hit puberty you start getting hard in the morning too.”
He didn’t say anything about the loads I’d been shooting in front of him.
I told him to get ready for school and went to my room, I put on two pairs of boxer briefs and stuffed a wadded up paper towel around my dick head. Once I had my jeans on it was pretty obvious I was hard, but the belt tuck just ended in a stained T shirt. I needed to get to the store somehow and drop off my son without scarring him any further.
The car ride was anticlimactic, not in the sense that I didn’t climax, which I did twice before I dropped him off but beyond a few stifled grunts and moans and the now familiar sight of my boy’s tent we both pointedly avoided the subject of puberty, dreams, and sex. I asked him what he wanted for dinner and how school was. He answered but didn’t drive the conversation on. The was a wedge between us, a desire to be closer in a way we both knew we couldn’t, in a way I think we both feared we already had been. I knew he was sharing my dreams. The strange nature of them, his massive wet dreams, and the fact that I was convinced his rapid growth of his dick was tied in with mine shrinking made me certain these were more than dreams. I was concerned they were much more than dreams. I didn’t know what I would do if they were real.
The day went by in a blur of loads and awkward glances at my bulging jeans. I could barely muster up any embarrassment buying the adult diapers I bought. They were surprisingly discreet but unfortunately didn’t do much to hide my constant hard on. Work was difficult but my discomfort with my repeated orgasms helped sell everyone on that I was sick. By the time I was ready to go home I had gone down.
I tried to imagine what this life would be like if something didn’t change. I couldn’t believe I’d stay sane- if I even was now.
The third night I woke up there was no fear. I couldn’t breathe still, but I was surprised to find I could reach out to the dark figure of my son.
The dim light joined by the deep hum started and I saw my rough hands over my sons smooth and naked nine year old body. I wasn’t disgusted like the previous nights.
I was thrilled with the wrongness of it. That he was my own son, that he was nine. My cock went full mast but I didn’t even think of touching it. These night terrors were almost like a ritual now. I knew the only way I’d cum was in my boy’s mouth.
My hands traced down his smooth lithe chest to his groin. I felt the transition from his pubic mound to his cock, the fact that he still completely had the hairlessness of youth made my head spin. I began to jerk him off, his now five inch cock was thicker too, but still small. Still the dick of a boy. I wanted it.
I felt the way his cock glided, the stiffness and give of it felt just like a smaller version of mine.
“That feels good daddy” he moaned as I stroked him. His voice was still high and quiet, but the uncertainty was less than before.
I leaned up and began to lick the shaft and the covered head. I flicked my tongue at his foreskin and frenulum.
“You love it don’t you?” The deep voice came from my son.
I didn’t answer besides putting my mouth around the head, it felt incredible and has a strong musky taste. His small right hand hit my forehead and pushed me away from his cock I fought against it, tried to get back at his piece.
“Tell me you love it,” the voice rumbled, “Tell me how much you want it.”
“I want your cock son.” I answered breathlessly, “I need it in my mouth, I need your load. I want to feel that little dick I made in my mouth, taste the leftover spunk under your hood. I’ve jerked it thinking about how much I love your hoodie, how much I love that it’s just like your old man’s. I love your cock. I love you cock son! Let me suck you, please!”
A rumbling deep laugh poured out of him. He removed his hand and I plowed back down on his little rod, taking it to the hilt and gagging. I licked at the underside of my son’s dick while it jabbed at my throat and shuddered in relief.
“He might not make it through all of this you know?” The deep voice said, “and you can stop. If you really want too.”
I couldn’t take my lips off him to reply.
“I’ll admit I make it harder for you to resist. Make it feel better for you, kept you paralyzed at first. But even the first night I let you go. It’s more fun for me to see a father continuing to let his son pound his mouth after his boy filled it with cum than it is to force him to do it. For the most part. If you had hated it more I would have enjoyed forcing it longer. Such is my way. I can change your sensations, your sensitivity, your body, but I can not touch your thoughts. Even a god has his limits.
“And I increase your sex drive, really it’s your son’s seed that’s doing that but I make his youthful loads have certain properties another wouldn’t have.
“All of this so that you can break down enough that even when I completely let you go you’re so desperate to get the high of tasting your own son you’ll suck his cock willingly. You’re boy’s cock. You’re willing to rape your son to get what you desire.
I realized the voice was telling the truth. This was all me now, not the strange force that kept me frozen the first night. Maybe I was lucid dreaming. Maybe my nightmares had become dreams.
I pulled off my son’s dick. The effort was monumental but I thought about the distress we’d both been feeling, how it was ruining our relationship and my son’s happiness. I thought about his mother, a woman I truly loved, and thought about how much it would hurt her to see this.
I turned away.
“Daddy?” My son said, “Please don’t stop dad, it felt really good.”
“No.” I growled, “I’m done.”
He began to quietly cry.
“I’m sorry dad. I knew you didn’t want to. It just felt so good. I knew you hated me, I hate myself. You lied dad, you said you loved it. You aren’t supposed to lie.”
“I do Clay. I do love you.” My heart felt like it was being torn apart.
He only shook his head, tears at his cheeks.
I leaned back in and kissed his cock head, the way another parent might kiss their child’s forehead to comfort them, the way I might have even so shortly as four days ago.
“I only feel good when you touch it dad. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m scarred.” The pain in his voice began to abate even through the darkness of his words.
“I’ll make you feel good buddy. Daddy wants to make you feel good. You make him feel good to.”
I sucked him with a new passion. I told myself I was doing it for him, giving him comfort through this. I told myself I what I had to to get my fix of his little cock.
Somehow I had begun to accept this but knowing he was hurting brought the guilt back - unfortunately it didn’t remove the desire.
My newly aggressive ministrations on his bigger than before but still childlike dick got him harder than ever before and I felt a gentle pop in my mouth, his foreskin retracted for what I was sure was the first time.
He gasped and called out “Dad” in a terrified and pleasure filled yell followed by a strangled scream of estacy. The deep voice seemed to yell of pain and joy emanated at the same time as he began to shoot. He squirmed and twitched more violently than he had any time before cuming. I looked up so I could see he face wracked with an orgasm. The tortured look was completely out of place on his young face, as his eyes rolled up.
He seemed to black out, went slump and collapsed on me. I felt a momentary sense of loss, I had grown to expect those post cum ministrations. The powerful effect of his semen causing the sensation of an orgasm was still working, but without the intensity of his little dick thrusting around in my mouth the effect was less overwhelming. I held him and put my finger under his nose- still breathing.
I layed him on the bed and got to my knees. My heart was racing. This was all me now.
My jagged hard dick jutted out from me to his mouth. It’s diminished size left me feeling impotent, weak.
But I wouldn’t do it. I wanted it in his mouth, but I knew I could resist.
His eyes snapped open and the lurid grin I’d seen the nights before pulled at him. He darted forward and took my cock in his mouth.
“You want it John.” the deep voice said.
“I resisted!” I screamed.
“You didn’t resist putting your boy’s cock in your mouth. I gave you your chance. But this is mine. I’m taking your seed, your size, your manhood. I take it to give to my vessel.”
I tried to pull my son off my cock.
“Stop! Stop! Please I don’t want to anymore, I don’t want to anymore!”
The candle light like illumination turned a deep red and the organ note grew to a staggering level. I fought uselessly to get him off of me as the bruised feeling returned to my dick.
“He tastes you. He remembers it when he wakes up. The stagnant taste of your leftover piss and cum, the thick mucous feeling of your loads, the bitterness of your sperm. He loathes it. It makes him feel sick all day. But he loves it too. The feeling of having you under his control while he makes you writhe and squirm when you cum. The fact that he’s making you feel better than you thought possible. It’s tearing him apart like it’s tearing you apart. You have to make him whole or he won’t survive this. And I need him. Make him whole John.”
I came as I continued to struggle to tear him off my dick, as I felt tears streaming down my face, as I repeated the word “No” over and over. In a strange way hearing that word echo in my room haunts me as much as the rest- I’d never thought I’d be so impotent and defeated in my life. The weakness of the word as it came out of my mouth didn’t sound like me. It didn’t sound like anything I ever thought I was.
Darkness filled the room.
I woke up. I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled the elastic down on my white boxers. It was smaller again. My now average sized dick was hanging hard below me as silent proof that this was all real. Or at least as proof that I’d gone completely mad and was hallucinating even when I was awake.
I pulled on another diaper and got dressed before looking for my son. I found him in the garage, loading up his laundry. His eyes were red and bleary.
I walked up to him and knelt to hug him. My bare chest against his. I felt how warm and small he was and I teared up.
“I love you Clay. I love you no matter what. I want you to know that.”
He cock was already stiff but went full mast at my touch, he blushed and pulled away.
I pulled him back to me, his dick pressing hard against my belly through his boxers. I absently noticed my own cock cumming, twitching and hard against his leg even through my adult diaper
“Even that buddy. It’s not your fault you don’t have to be ashamed. I love you through and through. I don’t know what’s happening right now but it’s not your fault.”
“You don’t know.” He choked out.
“I think I do bud. I’m here for you. I love you no matter what.”
He shot, his dick thumping hard against my belly and wetness spreading out.
“No!” he squealed, pulling away. “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!”
I grabbed him square by his shoulders.
“Even that son. It’s okay. It’s not you. Something is happening to us. This isn’t your fault. I’m going to fix it. Promise me you believe me.”
“I do dad.” He said. His eyes were big. Big with fear and worry but I believed I saw hope in them as well.
I had jerked off as soon as he left the garage, and tasted his cum off my chest. It had the same effect it did in my dreams, and I was certain I was loosing it. But that didn’t stop me from pulling out my cock and stroking with his young load as lube. The sensation of cumming radiated for a minute before I shot for real. I packed back up and got in the car before he joined me and I took him to school.
At work I spent hours setting up appointments for my son and I with the family doctor.
I left a couple hours early and laid on his bed jerking it till my cock finally went soft.
I put on fresh clothes and went to pick up my son.
Clay was in the living room while I cooked dinner. A twisted though entered my mind and I couldn’t shake it. I could make my boy eat my load. If I came in the pasta I could live out what I wanted to do with my son without him knowing and without hurting him more. The persistent hard on had been gone, but I rose at the thought of feeding my boy my load.
I pulled out my now six inch hard on with a glance towards the living room. I pulled down the pot of alfredo and busted silently- something I was getting pretty good at.
“Clay! Come eat up before we go get your babysitter.”
We were about halfway through dinner before it happened, the bruised feeling spread in my cock. I buried my face in the crook of my arm, reveling in the now familiar sensation. The rattle of my boy’s silverware quickly brought my face up though.
He was convulsing across the table from me. His eyes rolled up in his head, his head rolling. I rushed around the table thinking he was having a seizure, but when I pulled him in his chair away from the table I saw his pants were getting drenched and was hit with the pungent sent of semen.
I held him in my arms for nearly a minute as he shook and moaned. The size of his wet spot was amazing even knowing how much he’d been shooting in his wet dreams. The steady pulse of the tent in his pants was mesmerizing and my cock filled to full with each twitch. Almost hypnotized I reached out and unbuttoned and unzipped my little boys jeans, I pulled his cock out the fly of his boxers and starred as each jet from his cock shot a foot or two in the air.
His dick was bigger than that morning.
I pulled mine out and compared, I was definitely smaller.
I couldn’t begin to try and understand the mechanics of it, but him swallowing my loads, his massive wet dreams, and the transferring size of our cocks were all connected. There was no doubt about it.
I was frozen still, he must have been shooting for minutes. His cum was pooled in pearlescent spots on his hairless little chest and belly. The sight of my orgasming and naked boy in the halogen light of the kitchen was totally different than the strange diffuse lighting from the dreams- if they even were dreams.
I wanted that load, my concern for my son had abated. He’d been more or less fine from the wet dreams and I figured he’d be fine from this. In place of that worry I was filled with hunger.
I leaned down, shaking, and took his cock head in my mouth. The cum from his now six inch dick was pulsing. Filling my mouth and filling me with ecstasy. The orgasm filled my mouth and my gut as I swallowed, I felt feverish and wild, and tore myself off him to rip off our clothes. Everywhere my skin touched his load was blessed with the intense feeling of an orgasm, and as I sucked the continuing stream I ground my now nude body against my unconscious son. My body hair was slick with his load and my raging hard dick - which I could only guess now capped out at five inches rubbed against his face.
I looked down at him, my mouth still around his cock and aimed my dick to his mouth. I whimpered as it slipped inside and I fucked his limp body. The bruised feeling began again and I knew what that meant, but my need was so desperate even the loss of my dick size wasn’t a deterrent. He finished shooting and I continued to rub his little hard on around in my mouth while I fucked his throat. When I finally came he launched another volley of his boy cum in my mouth. I was completely lost. I had no concept of my body but a pure an eminent pleasure throughout. All I could focus on was keeping his growing rod in my mouth. I blacked out after the first minute.
When I came too we were both still naked, lying on the floor. My body was still in the throws of orgasm everywhere his load touched- which at this point between what he shot in me and I rubbed on me, and the maybe seven foot wide puddle on the floor, was nearly everywhere. My son was blissfully unconscious. I took us to the shower where I had to resist putting my still hard cock in his mouth again, and appreciated his dick size. It looked almost comically large on his little body now. I dried him off, and took him to my bed.
I did my best to clean up his cum in the kitchen and had the bright idea to save it. I managed to get a two-liter of the dirty load off the floor which was an impossibly small amount of what had covered the kitchen tile.
I pulled on another diaper and got dressed while my son still lay naked in bed. After I was fully dressed I shook him awake.
“Dad what happened?” He asked.
“You passed out at dinner. It looked like you fell asleep and had one of your wet dreams.”
He was silent.
“Go ahead and get dressed, were running late now. I’ve got a doctors appointment set up for us tomorrow.”
He seemed modified by that and got up. He covered his cock as he left he room.
Clay sat in the back seat while his babysitter rode up front with me. Harvey was nineteen and had been watching my son the last three years, since before my wife died. I don’t go out much besides my weekly meetings with my psychiatrist on Thursday that started after my wife’s passing, but having a dependable babysitter was a lifesaver.
I wanted to cancel my appointment out of worry of leaving my son but I needed to speak with Dr Rosa urgently. I wanted to see if I could get any insight what was going on, if this could all be in my head.
I dropped the boys off and text’ed my doctor that I’d be about twenty minutes late. He told me he’d have to start the clock at the regular time but that was fine.
I told him as much as I could. I left out the fact that the dreams were about my son but did tell him about the dreams, just saying they were with a unknown man. I told him about my spontaneous orgasms and eventually even my decreased penis size.
He was more or less dismissive of the whole thing. It had been mentioned that my son was having wet dreams and he decided I was likely stressed having to deal with his on-set of puberty without my wife. He told me the spontaneous orgasms (which I downplayed the frequency of drastically) and dreams about men were because I was sexually frustrated not having sex since her passing. He proposed I may have a less binary sexuality than I thought and that being free to experiment again was opening my mind up to new things and thus new dreams and fantasies. I was tempted to pull out my cock when he said my decreased penis size was all in my head. He called it body dysmorphia, and told me it would take a lot more than one session to work through. When I pleaded that was simply not the case, that it was genuinely smaller he assured me it would seem that way to me and that with time we could fix the issue.
It all fit so nicely in his little boxes, the explanation sounded plausible even to me. I desperately wanted it to be true. On the drive home I resolved a little madly to have sex with a man. It would hopefully fulfill this new need he proposed I was feeling and keep me off my son.
What I did to him in the kitchen, even if most of it was hallucinated, the massive load, the sensation of orgasm all of my body, was unforgivable. But I held onto the fact that I was the only one who had to live with it. Even if I did suck my son off he was definitely unconscious for it. He didn’t seem to remember it after.
The thought crossed my mind that I couldn’t even trust that- I could have imagined him unconscious to get over what I was doing. But I couldn’t afford to think like that. I had to hold out hope I could put this behind me.
“Sneak in John.” The deep voice rang out in my head when I pulled up to my house.
My heart raced. I’d never heard that voice when I was awake. But it was seductive and erotic to me- I had passionate associations with it. I found my cock filling out.
I sat in the drivers seat for a full minute considering. Ignoring the voice seemed prudent, I shouldn’t be following voices in my head. If it was real following it’s commands seemed even more foolish. But I still gingerly closed the door when I got out of my car.
I slipped in the house as quietly as I could, my pulse redoubled as I heard the distant sound of moaning from the living room.
Harvey was on the floor with my son, their pants around their ankles as they sixty-nine’d.
My instinct took over before I could savor the sight of my boy with his mouth around a cock, with his own rod down his babysitter’s throat.
I rushed up to the boys and Harvey pulled off my son’s cock and turned to face me as I kicked him square in the back.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” I yelled.
“Shit. Shit. I’m sorry John, I don’t know what happened I swear I didn’t mean to.” Harvey struggled to pull his jeans up and cover up his deflating cock.
“So you’re pants slipped off and you guys fell on each other?” I kicked him in the back again. He screamed and began to sob as he finally got his pant back up.
Clay sat on the floor with his arms around his knees, a thousand yard stare across the room. I wanted him to lower his legs so I could see his dick.
My rage subsided slightly. Harvey had always been a good kid. I knew this wasn’t all his fault. Something was happening with my boy and he’d just been caught up in it.
“Go wait in the car Harvey.”
I knelt down besides my son.
“What happened buddy?” I asked.
“I asked Harvey if he had wet dreams.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye. “He asked my why I wanted to know and I told him I was having them. He told me he did all the time and that it was okay. He was really nice about it. So I asked him if it was normal that my wiener would get bigger too. He thought I was talking about erections so he explained those to me.”
He stopped and looked up at me.
“Are you mad at me daddy?”
“No Clay. I just need to know what happened so I know how much trouble Harvey should be in.”
“He shouldn’t be in trouble dad. I was the one who got hard. When he was talking to me about erections. And he saw. And he didn’t believe me it was real. He asked me to show him and I asked it I could see his too. I told him to feel it. I was the one who told him to put it in his mouth.”
I didn’t need to ask where he learned about blow jobs.
“Is this the first time it happened?” I asked.
“Okay I’m going to take Harvey home. Will you be okay here by yourself for twenty minutes?”
I locked the door behind me on the way out. I found Harvey in the passenger seat, head in his hands. He looked up as I got in, his eyes were red and his brow was furrowed.
“I-” he began but choked on his words.
“I’m trying to figure out what to do with you Harvey.”
“Please don’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Once I saw it I felt like a different person, I swear I’d never do that.”
“But you did.” It was less accusatory and more inquisitive.
“Harvey, I have a nanny cam,” I lied, “I won’t show it to anyone, not the police, not your parents. I think I understand what your going through. But you need to do a few things for me.”
“Okay.” He said.
“First I’m gonna ask you some questions. You need to be completely honest. Some of the questions are going to sound really fucking weird but you need to tell me the complete truth or I won’t be able to trust that you’re going through what I think you are.”
“Have you ever thought about kids sexually before.”
“No. Definitely not. I get pissed when I hear about pedo’s, I wanna fuck those guys up. I have a little brother when I think of someone his age getting hurt-” he winced and shook his head.
“Did you hear any strange noises when you did all this? Was the light strange?”
I thought in silence for a moment.
“Who started it.”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head again, “He was asking me about wet dreams. He seemed real upset, I just wanted to help. Told him it was normal and stuff. Dude we were just playing video games, kicking back like we do every week. I swear I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t see it going like this at all.
“Then he told me his dick was getting bigger and the other kids in gym class were teasing him. I told him that was normal too. I thought he was talking about getting hard, so I told him about all that. But he said that wasn’t it.
“When we were talking about all this I thought he was already hard. I didn’t think much of it- I remember chubbing up over everything at that age. But when I started telling him about erections the tent in his sweats just got bigger and bigger.”
Harvey was visibly distressed, and I figured from the way he was pressing and tried to cover his groin was getting aroused. I was already rock hard, I looked down to adjust and hide myself but I found my little cock meant my tent didn’t look like a man with an erection.
“You ever thought about doing stuff with guys before? Ones your age?”
“Sure here and there man. I’ve watched a few video’s online without chicks in them. But it was never something I wanted to really do.”
“Until you did. Tell me the rest of how it happened.”
“I got kinda cut off when I was telling him about all this, he was just massive dude. I asked him if he was pulling some kind of prank, but he said it was real.” Harvey looked out the window and his voice quieted. “I said ‘let me see’. I kinda wanted to see man. I was curious if he was telling the truth, I wanted to see it.”
“He asked if he could see mine after. My heart was racing, it was kind of exciting. I never did any of that I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first stuff growing up. I was curious.
“When he pulled it out it was like I was a different person. I got hard too. Some part of me was screaming in my head, like what the fuck are you doing dude, this isn’t right. But I reached out and felt it.
“He asked me to suck him and I said no. But he kept asking. I don’t know how to explain it man but I was intimidated by him. I felt like I didn’t have a choice. I was still shaking my head as he put his hand behind it and pushed me down.”
Harvey cried a little and said fuck while continuing to shake his head.
“Once he had me on it, it was all different. I tasted his pre- it drove me wild.”
“Do you still want it?”
He hesitated, then his distress seemed to clear a bit. His voice was calm and even when he spoke.
“Yeah. I never done drugs or anything but I imagine this is what it’s like. I want it bad.”
“You hard right now?”
He was silent.
“Harvey I need you to tell me the truth. I’m not mad anymore, not at you.”
“Yeah I am.”
“Let me see.”
“Fuck no dude. I’m never doing anything like that again. I’m not a fag. I’m not a pedo. That was just some weird fluke.”
“Hear me out. I was just talking to my psychologist about this. She thinks I’ve buried wanting to experiment with men. She thinks if I mess around with another guy it’ll clear my head a bit. At least I think that’s what she was saying. We could clear each others head. You do this for me and we’re even. I’m taking Clay to the doctors tomorrow to work out what’s going on with him. He’ll be okay. But me and you have a problem now. We can help each other get a little release and get that junkie feeling out of our system.”
He didn’t answer. I pulled the car over and put my hand on his leg, when he didn’t protest I moved it up to his groin.
Heat radiated off the tent in his jeans. My cock twitched knowing he was hard for my son. I fumbled at his button till he reached down and unpackaged.
Harvey’s teenage cock stood at a solid five and a half inches, he was cut and it curved wickedly towards his belly. I stroked him for a moment but it felt awkward, I’d never jerked a cut guy and it felt like I was doing it wrong. I leaned in and tasted it. The sent of his unwashed teen groin wafted up. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant but if left no doubt in my mind that my head was buried in a young man’s crotch. His pubes rubbed on my beard when I swallowed down his cock and my head swam.
Harvey’s head rolled back and he groaned.
I sucked him for a good few minutes before he started thrusting in my mouth.
“I’m gonna cum” He gasped, and I pulled off his cock.
He reached for himself to finish stroking himself off but I grabbed his wrist.
I unbuckled my belt and fished out my four inches. I was embarrassed by the size but I needed to get off bad, and I wanted Harvey’s mouth on my cock more than anything.
He reached over and stroked me.
Harvey leaned down and wrapped his mouth around my head. His tongue ran under the hood and I groaned in pleasure.
“You like that Harvey? You’re a sick kid, you had a boy and his fathers dick in your mouth in the same hour.”
He got more into sucking me. He’d only been on my dick for thirty seconds but I started to feel like I was going to cum. I’d long ago mastered holding back but I slipped up and came. Harvey tried to pull off as I shot but I held his head down. My cum oozed out of my mouth and down on to my balls.
I was more sensitive than usual after cumming and let him off, as soon as he sat up I leaned over and took his still hard dick in my mouth. I huffed the sent of his teen crotch as I brought him back to the edge and he shot in my mouth, I swallowed it all.
We covered ourselves up and I drove him home in silence.
“Same time next week?” I asked when we pulled up to his place and paid him for babysitting my son.
“I don’t know if I can look Clay in the eye again.”
“It’ll hurt him more if you disappear after what happened. I’ll tell him why he can’t do that again. You won’t have to worry about it.”
My son was asleep on the couch when I came in, I picked him up and carried him to his bed.
He mumbled something as I laid him down. I watched him for a moment. I’d seen his face worried so much in the past days. Seeing him now, he looked more like his old self. Innocent and peaceful. I brushed my hand on his buzzed head.
“I love you buddy.” I whispered.
What would have been a tender moment was corrupted by my hard on. I glanced down at my son’s groin and gently pulled the elastic of his sweats down. His cock was bigger than mine soft now.
I reached down and gave his soft dick a few strokes. It was unbelievably smooth, from his hairless groin to the tender skin of his dick.
I let his sweats cover him back up and went to bed.
I woke up to the now familiar feeling of him straddling my chest. My heart pounded with anticipation until the room lit and the sound rose.
My son’s cock looked obscene on his little body, almost comical. He was at a thick and long eight inches. Compared to his small hairless body he looked like he was a foot long. I literally started drooling at the sight of his uncut rod. I wanted to suck my boy.
I found the paralysis of the previous nights was gone, I leaned up and started sucking him.
“That feel so good dad.” My son said, “Will you run your tongue under my hoodie?”
I felt a sick thrill hearing him call his foreskin by the pet name I’d called it when I talked to him about being uncut. A year back he asked me why his wiener looked different than other boys. I’d explained it to him and told him about how he’d have to start cleaning it one day. I’d never expected I’d be cleaning it with my tongue.
He moaned as I complied to his request.
“You did a good job John. After you spoke with your boy this morning he was more comfortable with what he was going through. You brought him back from the edge for me. I needed you and you came through.”
I pulled off my sons cock.
“I thought you said you liked it when he was suicidal.”
“I enjoy all of your emotions, but some do not work towards my ends. Right now I would very much like to torment you further. In the past on this night that is what I have done. But you are special John, nearly as much so as your son. And I am going to try something different with you.”
My son pushed me back on the bed and leaned over me, fucking my throat while I laid on my back.
“Tonight is the second to last last night we will come to you like this. I will help your son take another inch of your masculinity. Then the next step is up to you. You have one last act as father, when you awake tomorrow you will go into his room and fuck him. ”
“I can’t do that.” I said, popping my mouth off my sons dick.
The voice laughed.
“I have made much progress John. I’ve introduced new pleasures to this world over the eons. Constructions of lust that would pass from man to man, woman to woman, adult to child. The One Above All created sex for you to procreate, I am creating it to bring humanity joy.
“If you enter your son tomorrow you will shoot one final load from your man’s body. After that you will be bound to him. So long as you both live you will share that desire for one another. Your lust will be bound. And he will pass that desire to his sons, and they will pass it to theirs, and my kingdom will prosper and your son will rule it.
“This is the world I can give humanity. I love you both. I know it must seem impossible but I do. I love you as lucifer loves man, as Yahweh loves jesus. We hurt you for your own good, for the good of the world.
“But I need you to fulfill the ritual to make this happen. You will be the die that cuts the circle of lust that you will pass on to the world, the son who takes the father, the father who gives himself to his son.
“If you enter your son tomorrow you will set in motion great things. You will ensure you and your son’s survival for an age of carnal beauty. You will live to enjoy your children, your grand children. You will keep the properties of his seed intact, and all who experience it will feel your joy.
“Should you resist I will leave you both. Your son will remain with your length and girth, and you will remain with a cock the size of a child’s. But the rest will return as close as normal as it can. Your desires, your memories of these nights will not leave you, but I will no longer guide you both to ecstasy.”
My son began to mewl and moan. I hungrily sucked on him, encouraging him to shoot a load. His pre felt like a mounting orgasm in my mouth. When his full load hit me I got lost in it. He kept pounding me for almost ten minutes this time, I was blissed out, limp, sore from head to toe from all of the writhing. A pool of drool and cum spilled out from my mouth to my chest.
I continued to lay there almost comatose as he pulled his eight inches from the depths of my throat. The tip of his hard cum covered cock grazed my foot as he began to suck my hard four inches. I found myself oddly excited to know his would be an inch longer tomorrow. Aroused to think I was literally passing on my dick size to him.
When I came the pressed on bruise sensation shook my body, I felt the soreness of my abdomen as I clenched from the strange orgasm.
In the morning I reached into my white boxers to feel my cock.
It must have capped out at three inches, I felt the feel of it in my hand, wondered at how this was essentially my boy’s cock less than a week ago. I came and the feeling was intense, I suddenly remembered the tenderness of being a boy and first starting to cum.
I wanted to strut into my son’s room like this but I had enough self control to put on the thin adult diaper and get dressed.
I walked into his musky room to find him changing, digging through his dresser for fresh boxers.
“Wet dream again?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Yeah dad.” He said.
“We’ll talk to Uncle Paddy about it.”
He nodded glumly as he got dressed.
I had grown up with our family doctor, he was one generation out from Ireland and his parents met mine when they first moved to the US. I was eager to see him for a few reasons, he was one of the only guys who’d seen my dick enough to be able to tell me if this was all in my head, and like wise the only one who’d seen my boy’s dick- probably even more than I had. And in addition he could probably help me with what I was going through. He was without a doubt my best friend.
He was bright and cheery as always, and even made Clay laugh. Clay loved Padraig and I think being around someone who wasn’t a part of this grounded him a little.
I pulled pat aside when we were in the examining office.
“I’m a little worried about how Clay is developing, wet dreams, he’s getting uh-”
“Nine is a little young but thats not too abnormal Johnny.” He laughed, “I’ll check him out. Relax.”
Pat left and Clay stripped down to his boxers and put on a hospital gown. When Pat returned he went through the normal string of check up procedures, taking my sons blood pressure heartbeat and breathing.
“Go ahead and lay down lad.” He said.
I tried not to look over but failed. Pat pulled back the gown and hooked a thumb under my son’s waist band. He froze as he pulled them down.
Pat looked at me incredulously for an explanation and I shrugged. I squirmed as he turned back around, I was on the verge of cumming seeing my bast friend look at my son’s monster dick.
“Looks like your maturing quite a bit Clay.” he said a little uncertainly. “I’m going to check something a little different this time. It’s a big boy test, one we start doing when your older. It might be a little uncomfortable but everything will be okay.”
Clay lowered back down the gown and put on a pair of gloves. I was confused for a moment, Pat never gloved up for examinations, at least not for me and my son. Things became clearer as he began lubing up his finger and I shot realizing what he was about to do. I squirmed as I stifled the orgasm and he guided my son to raise his legs.
Clay tensed and squinted and Pat slipped his finger in his ass. His huge cock began to fill out, tenting the gown.
“Don’t worry about that,” He said absently as he pointedly looked away and concentrated on feeling my son’s insides, “Happens to a lot of guys for this one.”
Padraig removed his finger and pulled off his gloves, throwing them in the trash.
“Doesn’t seem to be a prostate issue. Put your legs back down lad, I’m gonna check for hemorrhaging on your penis.”
Pat pulled back the gown again and grabbed my son’s erect penis pulling back his foreskin. Clay buckled on the table and shot a load. His cum arched out and landed on Pat’s face and arm.
Pat’s knees immediately buckled as his legs went weak, he moaned and squinted, his breath ragged and heavy. The thin material of his green scrubs tented out in front of him.
“I, uh, I need to use the restroom real quick.” he stammered.
I followed him out without explanation to my son.
I went into the nearest restroom and found him at the urinal, I saw for a moment in the mirror he was frantically stroking, he stopped by the time I rounded the corner. One arm was up on the wall, his face buried in it.
“You feeling okay man?” I asked.
“Not really, I’m sorry Johnny I’ve never seen that happen before, I didn’t mean to. I swear.”
“It’s okay paddy.” I put my hand on his shoulder, “I saw you got hard.”
He looked up from his arm, his eyes red. I could see the tip of his rigid cut cock from where I was standing.
“I don’t know what happened mate. I don’t know. I never.”
I pulled down my jeans and my adult diaper. Showing him my hard three inches.
He shook his head repeatedly and reached out. He grabbed the head and pulled, my cock twitched and threatened to shoot even after having done so a minute before. He pulled back at the foreskin and we were both surprised to see it wouldn’t retract.
Pat shook his head and looked up at me.
“What the fuck is going on? You’re dick, that’s not your dick.”
“I told you something was wrong Paddy.”
He looked mesmerized and he ran his thumb over my foreskin, his dick began to shoot and my own responded to the sight.
“You’re gonna wanna tuck that up. It won’t go away for a few hours.”
Padraig ordered blood work, multiple scans, and urine samples. We left the hospital four hours later with no answers. And for my friend at least, many more questions.
It was two in the afternoon when Pat came by my house. I answered the door and found him with a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey.
“We need to talk mate.”
I walked him out to the car port we’d set up as a porch. Me and Pat had spent a good umber of days out here drinking, even more so after my wife passed. We hadn’t smoked since before I got married though.
“I don’t know about you, but I needed one.” He open the box and grabbed two cigarettes, offering me one.
I took it and lit it after he passed the lighter.
“I checked as much as I could, his hormones are all off but everything else seems fine.”
I took a long drag of the cigarette, my head rushed.
“How are you doing?”
“I’ve been better,” he shook his head, “About an hour after you left I had to head home myself. I don’t know how you’ve been holding up orgasming all the time like this, it’s the worst.”
“You wearing a diaper?” I asked.
“”Snagged one from the supply closet right after we were in the restroom.” He laughed,”You know mate I woulda thought if we ever messed around it woulda been when we were kids.”
“I’m sorry Pat, I think you can appreciate at this point how out of control you are like this.”
“Don’t apologize to me, I’m the one who grabbed your cock.”
I was straining in my diaper thinking about it.
“Can I see yours again?” He asked me.
I pulled it out without hesitation.
“It’s crazy mate. Especially how it’s not retracted anymore. It’s just not possible.” He groped at his groin.
“Take yours out too.” I nodded towards his crotch and he followed suit. He had a good seven or eight inches cut.
“I always wondered how you ended up cut as an irishman.”
“I’m all american mate, dad apparently didn’t care much for tradition.”
I reached over without asking, Paddy groaned.
“Careful I’m hair trigger close all the time right now.”
I leaned over and took his head in my mouth, he shot almost as soon as my lips closed. He was bitter and almost salty, far different than Harvey’s or my son’s.
I nodded down at my own little dick.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He said and leaned over.
His mouth was warm and soft around my three inches of uncut boy dick. I felt a little thrill knowing Pat was essentially sucking a child’s cock and shot within seconds of his mouth wrapping around it.
He winced as he swallowed my load.
“That help with the cravings at all?” I asked.
He cocked his head to the side slightly and thought for a moment.
“John I gotta ask you-” he stopped awkwardly and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, taking a long swig before another drag of his cigarette.
“John is there any way. On accident, maybe you got a little bit of Clay’s semen in your mouth?”
I tried to formulate an answer, I wanted to lie but I wanted to get Padraig’s feedback on what was going on. I just had to find the right words to not incriminate myself and to still get him to talk.
“I thought so. Look. I searched as much as I could before I left. There’s nothing like this. Anywhere. Men’s penises don’t shrink like yours has. There’s a few instanced of pituitary issues that caused development like in your boy, but nothing about cum that drives someone to an orgasm wherever it contacts and then gives you a hard on for six hours.”
“More like twelve.”
“Fuck. Listen Johnny I need you to tell me what’s going on. Cause I feel like a madman today. I’ve been feeling horrible stuff.”
“Like you’ve wanted to taste it again. You wanted to feel how his cum feels again.”
“So you have had contact with his cum.”
“Yeah. Paddy, I can tell you what’s going on, but you won’t believe me.”
“I tasted a nine year old’s load from his nine inch cock and then jerked off his dad afterwards. fucking try me.”
I told him everything. From the first dream to stroking with my little boy dick in the morning.
“What are you thinking?” I asked after a long silence following my recount of what happened
“I’m thinking I can’t believe that but I sure hope it’s true. It’d make me feel a lot better knowing I’m not a pedo and it’s some demon’s spell that has be thinking about little Clay’s cock.”
“I think I might have a solution to that. I’ll be right back.”
I ran to the fridge and retrieved the two liter. Me and Padraig had been drinking throughout me tellling him about what had happened with Clay. I found myself stumbling as I returned to the portioned off car port.
“Is that his cum from the kitchen?” Pat asked.
I nodded and set it on the coffee table in front of us.
“You want some?” I asked.
“Fuck me but I really do man.”
I opened the bottle and passed it to him, he took a swig after a brief hesitation and I saw his eyes roll up in his head, he whimpered and moaned.
I grabbed the bottle thinking he might drop it and drank some myself, it was cold and slimey but it felt amazing. I felt my finally softening cock re-harden.
When Pat finally came back around I passed him the bottle again, he hungrily drank more of my son’s semen and began to writhe on the dirty out door couch,
Seeing him squirm had me as hard as my son’s cum did. I wrestled off his jeans and poured some cum on my hand and began to stroke my childhood friend with it. Padraig shot immediately on contact and squirmed and thrusted into my hand- which itself was in the throws of orgasm everywhere the cum touched. As he began to come down from the orgasm he held his hand out and motioned the bottle. He poured some in his hand and returned the favor. I came almost as quick as Padraig, having my best friends hand stroking my dick with my son’s cum as lube had me wild.
We poured some in our mouths without swallowing and sixtynined next, shooting another load in each others mouths and then poured more on our bodies and ground them together. Our hairy chest matted with my son’s cum as we pressed them together. My cock found the crease of his legs pressed together and I began fucking it. The friction sent his body into another ecstatic orgasm and he writhed under me setting me shooting between his legs. Now dripping with all three of our cum I lifted his legs up and began to run my cock head on his ass hole.
I suddenly remembered what the voice the night before told me I had to do. In my sexual frenzy it seemed like the best idea in the world.
I stood up and grabbed the bottle of cum, now down to a liter.
“Where are you going?” Padraig asked breathlessly.
I walked in the house without answer, he followed quickly behind me.
I found my son sitting on the couch playing video games. He paused them as I entered the room and turned to see his father and the man he’d been raised to call his uncle standing stark naked, hard, and covered in cum.
“I’m going to fuck you Clay.”
He stood up and began undressing like he’d been waiting for it. I admired him for a moment in his naked beauty and then laid him on the couch, lifting his legs up and positioning myself over him.
“Wait. John you can’t do this. Not to little Clay. It’s too far mate.” But his heart wasn’t in the protest, his face was wracked with worry and horror but his hand stroked his cock.
Still slick with his cum I slipped inside my son.
His unbelievably tight ass took my tiny cock with no problem, I pounded away frantically. Padraig, already shooting dropped to his knees and took my son’s cock in his mouth. I looked down to see me humping my own boy and his uncle sucking his dick. I came, for the first time with my son without the bruised feeling. Instead I felt the warm slickness of my cum coat the insides of my son’s colon.
Clay took both hands and pressed his uncle’s head down on his cock. I felt his hole tighten repeatedly as he came. Padraig thrashed and let out a cock-stifled scream as Clay continued to fuck his sensitive post orgasm mouth. I let my son’s legs fall on my lap as I sat on the couch and enjoyed the show of a grown man being cum tortured by a little boy, my own son.
After ten minutes Paddy was in the nearly comatose state I knew too well from my own sessions from my son.
“Sorry dad, I didn’t think I could get him to stop if I didn’t do that. He’s hornier than you are.” His voice cracked on the word stop and he gave my own rigid little dick a flick after he spoke.
I winced as I orgasmed from his touch, and immediately noticed I shot a ghost load, not even a dribble of cum came out.
“I’m sorry I did that buddy, are you okay?”
“Asmodeus said you would do it today. I’m glad you did. It felt great. I liked playing with uncle Paddy too. His weiner is funny like the coach’s is.”
“Asmodeus?” I asked, putting a pin in the fact that my son knew his coach was cut. I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t be able to keep tabs on everyone my son was seducing.
“The dark man.” My son said. “I hear him sometimes in my head.”
“What does he say?”
“Stuff I can do if I wanna feel good. He says he can make sure you and I don’t die like mommy if we listen to him real well. He’s nice to me.”
I assumed he was talking about the deep voice I was hearing. Padraig had called him a demon. It fit.
I grabbed a towel and tried to wipe us all up as best I could, Paddy was still pretty useless, I had to drag him up on the couch.
Clay said he was hungry and I was in no state to cook or go out so I ordered pizza. I turned on the TV and had the surreal experience of kicking back naked with my son and best friend watching the simpsons while we were all hard.
Pat was the first one to jerk off again. I wasn’t sure if he was more susceptible to the effects of my son’s cum or possible just less experienced with it. By the time the pizza arrived we’d all stroked ourselves off again. Clay went down after he came but me and Pat stayed hard. I got the pizza in a robe - for once grateful of the awkward layout of my house that had the front door lead to the kitchen and went back to the boys in the living room.
X-files came on, something I normally took as the que for Clay’s bed time, but sending him to bed when I’d just fucked him seemed absurd. We watched it together, I was a little relived to see when Clay curled up with his uncle for comfort when he got scarred that Pat didn’t make a move. He was still hard as a rock but seemed a lot more in control of himself than when he knelt down and took my son’s cock in his mouth.
At ten Padraig went home, I gave him one of my adult diapers for the drive and hugged him before he left.
“If you feel anything like I did the first time, you’ll want to off yourself tonight Paddy. Don’t do anything stupid. Clay is okay. You didn’t hurt him tonight. Killing yourself would hurt him.”
He nodded and burried his face in my shoulder. Clay hugged him good bye and whispered something in his ear. Pat gave a weak smile at his words and left.
“Daddy I’m going to sleep in your bed.” Clay said, “Don’t worry, Asmodeus says I won’t have a wet dream tonight.”
Clay curled up with me under my covers, his naked body pressed against me. I had a feeling at this point I’d be hard even if I hadn’t recently swallowed his cum.
I woke up to my son nudging me.
“Daddy it’s time, wake up.”
The dim light filled the room, the deep hum seemed to come from the walls.
Clay put his nine inches to my mouth and I began hungrily sucking. There was no paralysis, no constriction of my breathing. Whatever the precious nights had been this was no dream.
“You’ve done well John,” the deep voice said, “I owe a great debt to you and your son.”
My son pulled his cock out of my mouth and went down, parting my legs and standing on his knees between them.
“I have waited so long for this. The fathers before you had no vision, they killed them selves before their son’s could take them. This will hurt John, we can not go gentle, my passion, your son’s passion, cannot be tempered.”
Clay pressed his cock to my anus.
“Do it.” I said.
In a single thrust my son sank his massive cock into me, I cried out, warmth spilled out around my ass. He’d torn me. The pain was pervasive, my bowels felt warped, every thrust felt like a stab.
His pace quickened. His angle changed slightly and every thrust hit my prostate. My tiny cock began to rise. There was a cock in my ass- I felt it, felt every inch of it, and it was my son’s cock. The massive rigid hardness filled me. A strange pride swelled in my chest. My little boy was becoming a stud.
The pain didn’t lessen but a deep orgasm rocked my body, my little dick twitched uselessly, another dry cum.
Clay grabbed my little cock, even his small hands wrapped it entirely, and used it for leverage as he fucked away and came from the sensations of my body orgasming.
His cum flooded my body and I felt nothing but bliss for the first time since getting fucked.
My son collapsed on top of me, his cock shrank in my ass. Cum and what I feared was blood dribbled from me as he pulled out.
He crawled back up beside me, the orgasm his cum spurred still raging on from all the cum being held in my bowels.
Clay kissed me, I pressed my tongue in his mouth.
The fear, the self loathing, was gone now. Clay seemed happy, heaven knows I was happy. This was wrong, it was evil. But I was so far in the darkness I’d forgotten what was so good about the light, holding my little boy to me like this felt like the best life imaginable.
“I love you dad.”
“Love you buddy.”