Date: Mon, 19 Apr 1999 15:59:33 PDT
From: debonair63@hotmail.com
Subject: MOONGLOW (b/b,t/b,CP)

submitted for the archive. Please reply if rejected.

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This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only.  Do NOT read this if you
are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your
state or country. Do NOT read this if you are easily offended or if
you are not interested in fantasies involving young boys. This file
contains sexually explicit material.

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Feel free to distribute this story or archive it at your favorite site
without altering its content.

This one is dedicated to my friend Dickie. Enjoy.

(boy/boy, teen/boy, Corporal Punishment)


MOONGLOW    by DEBONAIR

PART 1 of 3.

   Easter is my favorite holiday. Every year, families from the
area gather in the park for an egg hunt and I can rejoyce in the many
children scampering around me as I sit on the cool grass.

   The concert is about to begin. The choirboys are fidgeting, their
angelic faces bright pink from the spring breeze. The local school has
trained them well. They are dressed neatly, their hair combed
perfectly. I scan the crowd one last time, searching for a similar
soul. For everybody knows that when a choir of young boys is
performing, the audience will include: mothers, fathers, siblings
and pederasts.

   Before the show, I had ogled at the lively lads. Looking at them
directly in the eyes with lust. The more mature ones were mortified,
realizing I was the bad man their mothers had warned them about. I
enjoyed that confused look on their cute mugs. An expression of terror
and inquisitiveness. Disgust and somewhat pride that somebody found
them attractive in a sexual way.

   Next to me, two boys are hugging each other playfully. They are so
natural that I cannot conceive that they are not having boysex on a
regular basis. Their whispers and smiles lighten my heart. The younger
one is identical to Philip, my childhood friend. They have triggered
my nostalgia the bastards! They have ruined the concert!

   Now all I can think of is that particular summer day. Perhaps the
best day of my life. When I was just a kid like them. Free and
careless. I close my eyes and see myself walking over to my best
friend's house like I had done a thousand times before. The wind and
the sun teased my young body, messing my straight brown hair and
forcing me to squint. My heart was filled with the lightness of summer
liberties. School was out and I had all the time in the world.

   Anybody passing by would have surely noticed the dents in my
cheeks and the omnipresent smile glued to my lips. I had just turned
eleven a few weeks before. Just an innocent young lad with an inkling
for perversion.

   I certainly did not ponder about the marvels of fate who had put
such a terrific young pal only four doors from my own. My thoughts
were more oriented to the task of coming up with fun activities
for the long afternoon. I was the clever one afterall. Acing all my
classes, contrary to my friend who remained at the bottom of his
grade year after year.

   The backdoor as usual was unlocked and I invited myself in the
welcoming home, still badly decorated in the seventies style.

"Hi Benjamin!" chanted the voice of my buddy Philip to greet me.

   The boy was already on the ground, rolling miniature cars on the
lacquered floor. I was fully aware that the game was out of line for a
couple of mature eleven-year-olds. Actually he was ten then, six
months shy of his next birthday. But our mutual fascination for
vehicles with four wheels made it acceptable somehow.

   So I lounged on the floor, selecting a nice police car, my
favorite. Everything would have been the same as it always was for the
last six years, except that lately I had started gazing at my friend's
body. And this was the perfect opportunity to look at it.

   Philip was very skinny. His unkept curly blond hair gave him a look
of raw energy. Something only I could appreciate. Like every other hot
summer day, he only wore his standard 'Fruit of the Loom' white
briefs. I loved to stare at the almost naked kid as we twirled on the
floor. His firm little butt, the small lump down in front, the soles
of his boyfeet, blackened from dirt. A great sight that made me
uncomfortable. Paradoxically, I made sure to keep all my clothes on.
T-Shirt, red shorts and even my white socks.

   Inevitably, after an hour of simulated traffic jams and car
crashes, we would both enter in the land of boredom. It was at those
moments that our little minds would change gear into the mischief
zone. The rest of the afternoon would be devoted to finding someone to
annoy or something to destroy in the neighborhood.

   Nothing seemed to pop in our brains though. Our sighs echoed in the
hallway.

"Come here!" blurted Philip abruptly, breaking the silence.

   I eyed my buddy a second and crawled to him with a baffled look
on my mug.

"Close your eyes Ben." the blond kid demanded.

   I obeyed the request, waiting silently for what was in store. The
boy's hand grasping my own was exquisite. We rarely touched each other
and that was somewhat erotic. With a quick tug, Philip put my hand
down the front of his undies.

   I smiled, fondling the alledged mysterious object in my moist
palm. I squeezed the hairless package, pretending to guess what I
was touching. "Is it a rotten banana?" I peeped, feeling up the
uncircumcized sausage. "I think it's two kiwis.." I added, kneading
the marble-sized balls.

   The smooth genitals had me reeling. I could have fondled them
forever. But the interlude was short lived and we returned to the
miniature cars, giggling in childish innocence. I tried to hide my
obvious erection in my red shorts. Concealing it behind my forearms.
That's when I glimpsed at a small box under the couch. I pulled
on it with a stubby finger and read the label on the pack of
cigarette. "What's that?" I inquired, slanting my evil brown eyes.

"It's mine!" Philip exclaimed. "Don't tell my dad please, he's gonna
beat me!" he implored, utterly frightened.

"mmm I dunno." I replied, a sly look on my face. It was customary to
rat on my best friend. The boy's father was a strange man, inclined to
discipline his son. I loved to watch the strong adult pull down
Philip's underwear and spank him hard on his tushy. Even at that age,
my craving for domination was unequalled. The fact that my own father
often unleashed his rage on my cheeky bottom prompted me to tell on
Philip. Just so that we would share the same anguish and I wasn't the
only one suffering at the hand of an adult.

"Please please, I'll do whatever you want!" Philip pleaded nervously
with his squeaky voice.

   Pausing a moment to summon an exciting punishment, I reflected on
the situation, closely observed by my younger friend. "Ok! I know!"
I said, steering my vulnerable buddy to the kitchen.

   There, I revealed my scheme: "Take off your underwear and run to
the end of the yard!"

   My bubbly alter-ego grinned at the devilish demand. Discarding his
undies, he lurched outside the door, running as fast as could in the
grass, until he reached the fence thirty yards away.

   I drooled eyeing the ten-year-old buck naked. His perky ass
was wiggling. The kid's body was tanned except for his midsection. I
contemplated the streaker as he dashed back, his limp dick flapping
against his thighs. Exhausted and out of breath, Philip dared me:
"You're not game do it!"

   For an instant, I froze. I surely wasn't gonna let the younger
kid win the challenge. But my heart was pounding. I always had
been self-conscious of my body. Whenever we went to the public pool, I
always draped a towel around my waist to remove my wet speedo. Whereas
Philip never minded the many boys and men in the locker. He walked
around nude with no caution. Sometimes, mooning me to vex my timid
soul.

   Gathering all my courage, I peeled my socks. Then after shucking
my t-shirt and shorts, I waited a moment. The fence seemed so far and
anybody from the duplexes around could see me. Inhaling deeply, I
slipped out of my undepants and raced outside. The challenge was
neverending. A combination of the dream where you are running but
not advancing and the one where you are naked in school. I returned
triumphantly to the safety of the house and panted.

   We both laughed out loud afterward, elated by the silly game.
Philip peeked from the corner of an eye at my wiener. I mimicked him.
His little peter was uncut and seemed longer whereas mine was devoid
of skin on the glans. The sweet summer breeze felt nice on our bare
flesh and we opted to stay natural. I approved gladly. For I could
stare at the blond wild child as I pleased. We peed together, looking
down at the yellow streams arching from our boydicks. For once, Philip
was in a naughty sexy mood like me.

"Let's go downstairs!" I suggested. Philip's father owned a stash of
porno mags and I knew it was the perfect occasion to browse through
it. The guest room in the basement was intimate and cool. We oftened
played there during the unbearable scorching days.

   Philip fetched a magazine from under the bed. I joined him
in perusing it on the bed covers. The 'Hustler' edition showed many
women's vaginas grotesquely spread by their fingers. Philip was
disgusted by the wet twats. I was trumendously aroused. Looking back,
I find it amusing that I became a fag and he is straight. Still both
of us got raging woodies at the scenes of assumed lesbians munching
on their hairy slits.

   We often teased each other about the boners tenting in our shorts.
Now we could really see them. Philip fiddled boldly with my three inch
erection. And I returned the favor, my thin fingers denuding the
foreskin off his dickhead on his similar-sized penis.

   We giggled madly, rubbing our rigid child hard-ons together,
playing swordfights. Our pink knobs grazed deliciously. We pressed our
dicks underside to underside, to see who had the longest. I played
openly with the wobbly pecker. Pulling it down and watching it slap
against his bald pubes.

"Sometimes at night, I do like that." Philip muttered, grabbing a
pillow to shag it violently. "It feels reeeeally good."

"Me too!" I cheered, surprised at our identical habit.

   Philip took hold on my leg and began humping it like a dog in heat.
I shook my limb to rid it of the unusual canine. Our balls were
turning blue. We fondled our hairless privates for long minutes,
unaware of how horny the other was. "I'll suck yours if you suck
mine?" Philip proposed seriously.

   Sex was never a serious thing between us. We discussed it, to share
anything the other might have learned about the taboo subject. Of
course, we weren't ignorant about making babies. Yet, the whole topic
remained a source of jokes. Philip often pretended to give a blow job
to a popsicle. I put a cumcumber in my shorts to create the appearance
of a huge appendage. The word 'faggot' signified a sissy boy on the
playground. Homosexuality not an option in our innocent minds.

"Ok!" I answered gleefully.

  The ten-year-old knelt on the bed and approached his head
tentatively, sticking out his tongue to taste my bloated knob.
Relieved that it wasn't yucky, he engulfed the piece of hard boymeat.

   I moaned, relishing the first lips on my virgin boyhood. Philip's
small mouth was doing wonders for my blossoming libido. I raised my
hips from the mattress to meet with the sliding oral cavity, stuffing
it good.

"Do it to me!" the younger child begged, wishing to experience the
gooey feelings.

   I cupped the kneeling kid's ballsac and eyed the engorged organ
jutting straight at the sky from his groin. With the same anxiety, I
swallowed the randy boycock. The hot little gun didn't taste like pee
at all. I gobbled it up in one bite.

"Hmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmm" the pre-teen purred, his face grimacing
from the new sensations. I tickled the vale of his glans, knowing
exactly it was there I got the most tingles. Philip cooed loudly the
whole time, caressing my brown hair. I pushed him on his back and
crept between his legs, sucking and sucking that vibrant dick.

   For several minutes, we exchanged blow jobs, sensing the pleasure
mount in our pre-pubescent little poles. It was so naughty and
secret. Philip was the first to climax, stomping his heels on the bed
as I bobbed my head up and down on the entire length of his steely
pecker.

"Uhh! UHH! YEAH! YEAH!" he yelled, having a seizure of intense
pleasure from his orgasm.

   The satisfied boy instructed me to straddle his unmuscular chest. I
thought he was crazy as I climbed on him, putting my genitals right in
his face. The little boy kissed my penis and nibbled on my pendulous
balls. His smiling eyes were wide as he worked on the fleshy tube. He
knew he possessed the key to ultimate bliss.

   I shoved my hard dick in the willing mouth, making the cheeks of
my little pal bulge. I had never been so aroused as I fucked the cute
face of Philip. The youngster made small whimpering noises like a girl
being fucked and that was enough to generate my climax.

   I yelped with the jolts of an incredible boy cum. Philip gripped
my pulsating penis, milking it. A very liquid spurt of kid jizz
erupted on his chin. He was startled, for I had not informed him of
that special capability of mine to shoot sperm.

   In unison, we sampled the babymaking fluid. It was salty and kinda
bad. I always ate my seed at the time, paranoid that somebody would
find the evidence of my sessions of onanism. So I wiped off the very
small dollop off Philip's chin and consumed it. He was jealous of me.
The sticky substance would come out of his pisshole soon an he would
despize that day. It was just too darn messy.

                                -=-

   I jack-offed many nights, replaying the images of that wonderful
day in my head. Every since I was five-year-olds, I was a compulsive
masturbator. Just before sleep, my tiny hand would sneak under the
waistband of my pajama bottom to jerk that miniature joystick, so
appropriately put there to give me the most fantastic rush of
condensed happiness.

   I came every time, my teeny toes cramping up and my legs jigging
on their own under the blanket. My father caught me once at the
naughty passtime. "That's not a flower!" he remarked, leaning against
the doorframe. But the incident didn't deter my elan. And I did it
again and again and again.

   It was funny that a simple pack of cancer sticks had altered my
perception of Philip. Up to that point, he had been an adequate
soulmate. Now, I was ecstatic that he was a sexual being like me.

   I had never felt any stirrings when Philip's father spanked him.
Whenever I witnessed it, I cowered in a corner of the room. My soul
tortured. Torn between sympathy and the sheer enjoyment of seeing my
best friend's bum so skillfully battered. Being a child, I was the
subject of teenagers and grown-ups' oppresion. The opposite tickled
my evil bone and I rejoyced in viewing the suffering of Philip.

   The kid's dad was a rustic man with a mustache. He was fond of me
and often advised his son to look up to me. I was the ideal heir. Well
behaved and getting good grades. Philip was irate of that situation.
Especially when his father would haul me on his lap to teach me
country guitar, after I had expressed an interest.

   The adult's muscular arms wrapped around me as he guided my short
fingers on the strings provoked a queezy feeling in my guts. I
could feel the absolute power emanating from his aura. The austere
authority he radiated. My father seldom enforced corporal punishment
without a good reason. This man didn't care how insignificant the
transgression had been.

   He was also the head coach of our soccer team. Understandably,
under the helm of that tyrannical figure, we played our little legs
off, winning nearly every game.

   One Sunday, Philip stupidly kicked an opponent on purpose, digging
his cleats into the boy's left leg, drawing blood. A somber veil of
uneasiness fell on the field. His dad's supressed anger affecting the
moral of the entire troop. At the end of the matchup, he dragged his
son by his thin arm, practically yanking it out of its socket.

   The ride home in the rusty Plymouth Maverick was dreadful. "Why the
fuck did you do that?" he snarled at his son. "Oh you're gonna get it
boy! You're gonna get it!"

"But dad!?" Philip defended himself.

"NO BUTS!"

   I watched silently my blond friend in his soccer uniform. Fear
glazing his eyes over as he chewed his fingernails nervously. The
anticipation of the trumendous pain probably more nerve-wracking than
the actual punishment. My stare lingered on the lamb. A twisted
excitement boiling in my nutsac. I wished he would be stripped and
degraded during the ordeal. That's how I would have proceeded.

   First, removing his green sweater, then his knee-high socks of the
same color. After taking off his black shorts, I would have paused to
enjoy. To dwell on the joy of admiring the culprit squirm, in his
pure white briefs as he realized it was the last piece of garment
protecting his tender fanny.

   That's not how it happened. Philip nonchalantly stretched on his
bed, sobbing already. He pulled his shorts and undies to his knees
voluntarily. My pricklet twitched in my baggy shorts. The ivory white
butt so clearly defined. Two pale mounds protruding from the horizon
of his otherwise golden body.

   The way his dad took off his belt had an allure of complete
control. Unbuckling it slowly and slipping it out, like it was a
serpent coiled around his waist. All this in some sort of ritualistic
manner. Philip's breathing intensified when his maker approached the
edge of the mattress. He clenched and unclenched his buttocks,
creating dimples on the sides.

   There was never a mention of the duration of the chastisment. Which
I imagined made it the more excruciating for my little pal. The strong
man folded the black leather belt in half and constrained Philip with
his large hand between his shoulderblades, squashing him in the
mattress.

"Noooo. Please daddy! I'm sorry!" Philip begged with his teary voice.

   It was rather pointless for I had never seen his father's will
change before those many beltings. Philip started to hyperventilate
and the first crack of the leather instrument resonated.

"OWWWW!" he cried out sincerely.

   Already a thin strip of pink appeared on both buttocks. The man
brought down the belt again, spawning another mark just below the
other one. Those were just practice strokes. The man was an expert bum
beater afterall. There was no first round or second round. Just a
constant flow of painful assaults. The repetive sounds of leather
against flesh began echoing in the bedroom.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK

"Please daddy! Please daddy!" the boy spewed his litany.

   At first, I didn't watch the brutal sanction. My eyes riveted on
the wall at the dark silhouette of the man, large like a dinosaur,
lashing ruthlessly at his son's delicate buns. But soon, I would grow
brave and stare at the scene.

   Philip was screaming like an animal being skinned, bawling his eyes
out and kicking his legs. The beating was relentless, turning my
friend's little butt from a bright pink to a crimson red.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK

   It seemed the blows were getting harder, resonating like gunshots.
My eyelids blinked with each one. The distinctive noise of the belt
whistling through the air, remained in my head long after. When Philip
finished squirming all about, the big man knew he had accomplished his
job. He usually gave a few more strikes for good measure and trotted
away.

   I was left alone with the boy sobbing genuinely on his pillow. The
glowing bottom mesmerized me. I could see several angry welts were
the edge of the belt had bitten. Philip desperatly tried to rub the
fire out of his little bum. He pulled on his shorts but found out
the cotton of his briefs stung against his smarting cheeks. So he left
them to his knees, to let his ass cool down.

  I walked to the boy and hovered my hand over his reddened globes.
The heat was like that of a furnace. God knows why, I wanted to run my
dickie on them. I lay my hand on his left cheek and watched the
white print gradually return to its original redness.

"Aow! Dammit!" Philip barked, frowning at me with his puffy eyes. "GO
AWAY! I don't wanna play with you!"

                                -=-

   Our blow job adventure in the basement had been just a game for
Philip. The younger boy had not yet felt the strong sexual impulses a
cum producing kid can muster. For days, I waited for any sign that my
friend might wanna repeat the sex play. But to no avail.

   I hung around Philip's empty house in my underpants now, secretly
hoping to arouse him. All the games I suggested revolved around
getting naked. Strip poker or wrestling to remove the adversary's
underwear. Playing table hockey with the loser having to bare his
body. The younger kid declined my offers all the time, growing tired
of my annoying desire to undress him.

   At the same time, he teased me. Flashing his little butt. Taking a
dump with the door open, his hairless genitals tucked away between his
thighs. Everything that could drive good ole Benjamin crazy.

   For some reason, Philip thought the sexual frolicking we had
wallowed into was dirty. Boys are not supposed to do that, he
explained. Once in a while, I convinced him though. We sucked each
other off. It was short and illicit. We did it on the spur of the
moment. When our eyes were twinkling with carnality.

   He pulled his underwear to his ankles and I sucked his cocklet 'til
he came. Then it was his turn to take my penis in his mouth. He bobbed
his head rapidly, slightly embarassed of what he was doing. I was
brutish and degraded him. "Yeah suck it slut! Lick my dick!"

   Eventually he bought my silence. I didn't tell on him to his dad
anymore. If something merited a punishment, I administered it myself.
He trampled his ego and exposed his gorgeous ass to me. My slaps
weren't as hard as his father's. But I pummeled his butt with enough
force to bring tears to his eyes. I made sure I was spanking my best
friend at least once a week. Sure was a memorable summer.


MOONGLOW    by DEBONAIR

PART 2 of 3.

   There was an alley-way seperating the backyards of the duplexes
that became the neighborhood kids' sanctuary. We played our childish
games there for hours until the moon shimmered in the sky. Our shrill
cries were recognized by our parents, sprawling like slobs in front of
the television. They knew we were safe.

   I don't recall how Tyrone joined our gang of loonies. It seemed he
had always been there, tagging along with us youngters. The black boy
was fifteen and tall as a tree, overtowering us by a good two feet.
Somehow, we accepted him on the account he was kinda dumb and puerile.
He participated to everything: hide and seek, cowboys and indians and
our famous wrestling confrontations. We used to gang-up on him,
slapping his face and kicking his legs. We were so cruel to him. Yet,
he stayed passive. Never once losing his temper.

   The young teen ruffhoused in the grass with us little kids,
pinching our butts, his only defence. The other boys had not noticed
it. But I, on the other hand, had spotted right away the lump in his
loose basketball shorts. Tyrone became some black god in my mind. I
wanted to see his dick. To see what color it was and how big it could
grow. I was barely twelve then. But my sex drive was that of a bunny.

   I gawked at the gentle giant's crotch every time we played
together. He was up to me and grabbed my ass with more insistence. Our
bodies were alive and our thoughts dirty. For days, we flirted with
each other. The evidence of our unspoken desires standing proud in our
summer shorts.

   When his folks weren't home, he finally invited me to his house on
some lame pretense. I entered another world, stepping into Tyrone's
bedroom. A teenage world filled with smelly sneakers, posters of LL
Cool J and ghetto blasters. Breakdancing was still a big rave then.

   I played the naive lamb, as if the past week had not occured.
Letting myself be molested brought on the greatest erotic thrills.
We circled the room like vultures, suppressing our sinful motives.
I bent over and wiggled my bum while tying my shoes. It didn't come
as a surprise when the domineering form of Tyrone closed on me from
behind.

   His sinewy arms navigated toward my tennis shorts and his ebony
hand squeezed my boner through the fabric. "Do you know why you got
a stiffy?" he declared. "Cuz' you wanna do it with me....".

   I didn't dare express an opinion on the statement. Seeing that
I didn't fight him, he slipped his hand down the front of my baggy
garment. "You're all smooth... just a kid.. but that's ok. My brothers
showed me stuff when I was like you.." he whispered.

   I moaned loudly, my head swimming in the comforting voice of the
black boy. His big fingers played so lovingly with my hairless
ballbag. He jacked me off tenderly with one hand and pulled my shorts
down slowly with the other. I shut my eyes. Everything was unfolding
so fast. I didn't even know his second name yet. But there I was, half
naked, his fingers massaging my butt and exploring my privates at the
same time.

   He lowered his shorts and pressed his bare cock in the crack of my
butt. An odd mix of nervousness and joy enveloped my soul. It was so
big, so hard. I was out of my league. My little maleness a mere
pickle compared to the man-sized tool I was feeling rubbing against
me.

   I turned around to finally look at the object of my curiosity.
Tyrone stood straight. Proud of his fuckpole as he should be.
Flaunting it in front of my awestruck eyes. I fixed silently at his
huge cock curving upward. It was a monster. Eight inches of thick
black meat under a dense forest of curly hair.

"Do you like it? Wanna touch it?" he asked, conscious of my lingering
stare.

   I nodded, advancing on him and wrapping my fingers around his
prick. For a long moment, I fondled Tyrone's enormous treasure.
Smearing his pre-cum on his shaft and crushing his balls in the palm
of my little pale hand. I had only seen dicks like that in Philip's
dad's magazines. It swelled even more, becoming a hot piece of metal.
My own peter was at full mast, wagging between my legs.

   The tall boy put pressure on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel in
adoration at his feet. He slapped his cock on my face and I loved it.
"Kiss it!" he commanded. I obliged happily, pecking his brown dickhead
with my pink lips, tasting for the first time the muskiness of
manhood. I had not licked him for one minute that he grasped my head
and shoved his penis in my mouth.

   This wasn't the same games as with my childhood friend. The black
teenager was a stallion. I whined when he fucked my mouth, thrusting
his phallus at the entrance of my throat, gagging me. "Oh yeah, suck
it baby!" he said grimly. The tone of his voice emphasizing the lack
of respect for my immaturity. Nonetheless, I kept myself calm,
enjoying every second of the pleasure I was giving to the older male.

   With both hands on his pole, I took control, bobbing my hungry
mouth on the tip. Tyrone's breathing changed. I couldn't believe I
had the power to make this big boy come. He sagged before me. I
suctionned with more ferver and it happened. A flood. An outburst of
greasy juice exploding in my oral cavity. The most cum ever, spurting
on my palate. I swallowed in big gulps, eating my new friend's
offering. It seemed to leak from every aperture of my head. I swear it
gushed from my ears!

   Tyrone wiped my cummy face with his t-shirt and sat me on his
softening penis. He gave only a couple of tugs to my boydick. That was
all I required to quake on him, my pisshole squirting two jets of
kidcum on his brown hand.

  Over the weeks, I looked forward my sexual escapades with the
panther. He granted me the most fantastic orgasms of my short life. We
romped on his bed totally naked, caressing our smooth bodies. I loved
to compress his muscles, to run my hands on his oily skin. Sweat
seeped from our pores in buckets. The scents of boyhood and teenage
funk blended in our nostrils.

   Tyrone's lovemaking was brutal. He twisted me and poked his fingers
roughly in my poophole, hurting me. He sank his fangs in my scrotum.
My whole body was sore afterward but I came back again and again.
He burned the last shreds of my innocence in that bedroom. I have
no specific souvenirs of the countless times I blew him. The numerous
occasions he ejaculated on me. On my face, my hair, my butt, down
my throat. He made me suck his toes, lick his hairy shithole, kiss
every part of his rock hard body.

   I came twice or three times every time we had sex. My twelve-year-
old dickie was all red in the end after it had been the center of
attention in Tyrone's hand or mouth.

   There was a constant demand that he brought up every time we met.
He would take on the most suave voice and murmur in my ear how much he
wished I would let him stick his cock in my little white ass. That he
was only six when his older brothers crammed their long black poles
up his fanny. He began fingering my anus aggressively, hoping to
predispose me for the day he knew I would say yes.

   I capitulated on one condition. A very dear one of mine. And Tyrone
agreed to be spanked on his bareass. Thirty whacks, no more no less,
with a slipper. The black teen reluctantly climbed on my lap. I was a
boy-king suddenly. The fifteen-year-old my slave, awaiting patiently
for my painful kink.

   His buttocks were magnificent. So round and firm like unripe
eggplants. I raised the slipper and hammered it full force on it.
Tyrone's yelp was music to my ears. I repeated the motion over, a good
ten times. How ironic that such a comfy shoe could bring so much pain.
The tall lad wriggled on my thighs with the increasing force of my
blows.

"Owww! Owww! Owww! Dammit!" he complained.

WAP! WAP!

"You're a bad boy Tyrone!" I growled.

WAP! WAP!

"It's bad to have sex with children!"

WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP!

"Stop it Benji! Pleeze!" he begged, tears starting to flow from his
adolescent eyes.

   I had him where I wanted. A black little kid again, being punished
for no reason. I was the boss now and Tyrone's purple cheeks would be
a testimony of my authority. Several times, he raised his chest, ready
to flee my stinging assaults. I pushed him back down and began a rapid
succession of unrelenting strokes. Up, down, left cheek, right cheek,
accross both.

WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP!

   In my haste, I exceeded the limit, beating his teenage bottom
mercilessly until he sobbed openly. "Aowww! Aowww! YOww! Pleeze!
Pleeze stop! " Tyrone blubbered, jerking and writhing in pain.

WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP!

   My arm grew tired and I decreased the speed of my strikes until I
let go of my instrument to contemplate my work. Tyrone's black bum was
aflame and glowing violet hues. He leaped to his feet and shoved me
back like a disgruntled toddler. I felt no guilt. Looking at this big
boy drying his eyes exhilirated me.

"It hurts!" he sniffed, touching the tender flesh of his ass.

   Tyrone's vengeance was grand. Minutes later, he was over his
correction, ambling to me with his rigid cock lubed with vaseline.
The usually composed boy had fire in his pupils. He gripped my waist
and spread my legs. I hesitated to present my lily white tail, fear
of being torn open creeping up my spine.

"Do it slowly!" I pleaded.

   The plum-sized head of Tyrone's prick found my anus quickly. I
braced myself but nothing could have prepared me for the intensity
of the pain that shot from my butthole. My shrieks vibrated in my
thorax. His large cock expanded the ring of my anus so painfully as
it raced urgently to be inside my rectum.

   The teen only fed me half of his tool that day. It seemed like the
empire state building was up my chute. "Oh yeah baby.. uhhhh yeah take
it in the ass baby.. yeah..." Tyrone chanted, thrusting in and out of
my virgin orifice.

   I whimpered like a wounded rodent, my body all wired. His gigantic
penis filling every centimeter of my entrails. The more he slammed
into me, the more I wailed. "Please come in my ass now Tyrone..
Please!" I heard myself supplicate.

"It's gonna be as long as you spanked me baby..." he grumbled in
between his moans of bliss.

   As much as I tried to relax, I couldn't escape the constant numbing
pain. Tyrone sodomized me fifteen minutes that first time. When he
rabbitfucked me, his climax about to wash over him, I thought I would
die. He came like a firehouse into my insides. The pulses of his
urethra ballooning against the lip of my anus making me shudder. When
he pulled his hose out my distended hole, it felt like a canyon was
throbbing between my buttocks.

   The savage union did not dampen my lust for him. I returned to
his bedroom to spank him twice and hard and get buttfucked. My hole
was loosening up. It meant I could take more of his meat into my
delicate butt and over time, I became Tyrone's sex toy, his little
girl.

   He shaped me to become the ideal doll for his slippery cock. I
learned to enjoy it. To luxuriate in this big boy wedged between my
legs, my hands locked behind his head as he rode my ass to heaven. I
sweated like crazy during our coupling. My mouth urging him to fuck me
deeper and harder. He banged my butt like a dog. With spasmic rushes
of frenzied thrusts. His massive hardness plowed deep into me, hitting
my prostate, tilting me every time, making me ejaculate strictly from
the anal stabbings.

                                -=-

   Spanking Tyrone was great but it wasn't until I turned sixteen that
I truly savoured beating boy bums. By then, Philip and Tyrone were out
of my life. The trumendous yen to be near kids had subconsciously
driven me to stay in the world of soccer boys. I was an assistant
coach for the Dragons, an average team of third graders.

   It was a great job come to think of it. The kids were fond of me
and I became a big brother to all of them. Patting their fannies when
they scored a goal. Nursing their sprains and cuts. Mentoring them on
the harsh realities of competition.

   One little rascal in particular was very boisterous and his mother
specifically asked that I supervised him to straighten his
inappropriate behavior. 'He's just an eight-year-old' I wanted to
scream at her. The stuck-up bitch definitly did not grasp the nature
of boys. I did however.

   Jeremy and I got along well. The pre-teen was indeed a ball of
energy looking for trouble. A lil' demon. The fact that he had wavy
red hair and a missing front teeth accentuated his naughty boy image.

   After the game, I escorted him back to his house. While he took a
shower, I watched him. Jeremy was keen on spending every second with
me. Even if it meant showing his dink to an old teenager. Then again,
bashfulness wasn't a concern to the little boy.

   His small body was so creamy white. A dense concentration of
rust-colored freckles adorned his nose and his shoulders. All over
him, the red bruises of his rough play shone against the background of
his pale skin. My eyes feasted on the clear water flowing down the
cleft of his firm tiny butt. I felt like a pervert, getting bothered
by such a little kid.

   One time, he turned around swiftly and exhibited his baby boner,
giggling from the impetuous display. Hoping to obtain a reaction
of shock from me.

"Wo Jeremy!" I exclaimed. "Your thingy is broken. You won't be able to
pee anymore."

"It's not! It won't be stiff forever!"

"Are you sure?"

   He nodded, somewhat unsure of his response. Most of the times he
cooperated after his shower, jumping in the plush towel I held open
for him. At other times, he dashed out of the bathroom, egging me on
to chase after him. I didn't hunt the boy with much vigor, utterly
aroused as he fled before me, stark naked. Eventually, I would corner
him and twist him upside down to nibble playfully his wet buns.
Jeremy howled during my attacks. The big bad wolf had caught him and
was eating him up. I tickled him until he screamed to be let go and
his bladder released a trickle of urine.

   Although Jeremy tried very much to behave himself when around me.
He could not repress all of his mischiefs. After a soccer practice, he
burst into the house, bouncing the ball on his knee.

"Don't play inside the house!" I grumbled.

   He ignored my warning and continued his acrobatic moves. "Look Ben!
Look!" he called me, showing off his talent. The big black and white
ball suddenly flew in the air when he faltered. It bumped against the
wall and toppled a plant on the white rug. The ivory carpet was
covered with humid soil and I knew right away the brown stain would
never come out completely. Jeremy held his cheeks with both hands like
Kevin in 'Home Alone'.

"I told you NOT to play with the ball inside the house!"

Rage overtook me. The stupid rug wasn't the source of my wrath. It
was the sermon, vomitted from his mother's mouth that I apprehended.
My childminding skills would be questionned for sure. The little
bugger was about to learn how much I cherished discipline.

"Come over here Jeremy!" I growled, pointing a stern finger at my
running shoes.

"I didn't mean to... " he whined, ducking his head and trudging to me.

"I'm gonna spank you and then you will clean up that mess!"

"Spank me?" he peeped.

"Yes! On your bare tushy."

"Mommy never spanks me..."

"Well I do! It's about time someone tans your hide!"

   Jeremy accepted his fate readilly. I took possession of his body
and bent him over my left thigh. The sweaty boy in his soccer uniform
wriggled between my legs. He held on for dear life at the waistband of
his shorts as I pulled them down. "Noooo. please Ben!" he implored.

   I cast aside his little paws and tugged on his shorts, then his
white undies. The lil' stinker began to sob, anticipating the voley of
painful strikes on his bare ass. I trapped his ankles behind my right
leg and delivered the first swats.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Ouch! Ouch! OOoooh!" he complained.

   His bubble butt was so smooth, so spankable. He cried profusely and
I rubbed his pink globes to soothe them a few seconds. "I'm sorry Ben.
I won't do it again!" he lamented.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

   My hand had a mind of its own. It longed to punish those quivering
buttocks. I watched it fly in the air, hammering onto the naughty
little bottom. My cock was straining under the denim. A certain twinge
of guilt surged in my soul from the enjoyment I was experiencing,
chastising this young charge.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

   I stopped my pleasurable duty abruptly, assessing how red Jeremy's
bum was. "There! I hope you will remember your first spanking!"

   The crying boy scurried away, rubbing his sore cheeks. His rigid
pricklet dancing. He pouted for the next minutes but recovered his
natural exhuberance like the whole thing had never occured.

   I spanked the red-head many times after that initial lesson. He
grew accustomed to my stinging walloping and I had to double my
efforts on his petite ass to make him cry wholeheartedly. My hand was
as scarlet as his derriere after each session.

   He tested my limit every time, seeking the frontier between
acceptable conduct and all out bad behavior. Sometimes, doing nasty
stuff on purpose. Lighting matches in the house or lifting the family
cat by its tail. Whenever he did that, there was that look in his
eyes. He knew exactly the crime called for a punishment. His evil
defiant grin nagged me. I would drop his shorts and heat up his lovely
buns on the spot. It was swift and expeditive.

   The castigations soon turned sexual for him though. I observed him
grind his hips in my lap. He rubbed his peter so hard that he often
climaxed right there. Shuddering over me and squealing like a pig
while my palm smacked his rear end.

   Then I did something very out of line I must admit. My hormones
went overboard. Instead of spanking him after he had put the family
pet in the dryer. I brought him in the basement and tied his wrists
together with a shoelace. Jeremy was so confused when I raised his
arms and fastened them to a pipe running along the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, as I bunched his t-shirt under his
armpits.

"It's a new punishment!"

"It hurts!" he squirmed.

   With a swift tug, I lowered his shorts and briefs to the floor. He
panicked noticing my eyes surveying his hairless body with passionate
hunger. I wasn't myself anymore. He didn't recognize the friendly
teenage guardian I used to be. An eerie ambiance floated in the musty
cellar. My exploring fingers roamed on his silky skin and he gyrated
his hips to elude them.

"No! Don't!" he cried out.

   Never before had I experience such intense lust. Domination was an
insatiable mistress of the dark. The little scamp was mine, all mine
to toy with. "Suck it!" I commanded, darting my middle finger in his
mouth. Jeremy's tears sprang to his eyes. He suckled my rude digit
anxiously.

   Once my finger was covered with his saliva, I guided it to his
asscrack. Without an ounce of restraint, I jammed it up his tight
anus.

"AAAAAAAAArgh!" he screamed, his chest heaving.

   I pushed my invading probe deeper in his rectum and he perched
himself on his miniature toes. As if supported by my hand. My penis
jumped in my jeans as I raped the little boyhole. The constricting
ring strangled my finger. A feeling that can only be compared to
finger fucking a beer bottle.

   With my free hand, I made wide circles on his tummy, massaging him,
easing his anguish. His tiny pecker hardened under my fingers,
lengthening to its two inches. Both my hands were full of his ass and
his boymeat. Jeremy examined quizzically my ministrations, moaning
from time to time with the revelations of new pleasures. His little
peg was of stone, his face dazed.

   The portrait of the tied-up child mirrored my own past when I
was eight-years-old like him. A little rascal horny all the time even
in the worst scenarios. He moaned again langourously as I fondled his
stiffy and kneaded his buns. My fingers were untiring devouts to this
lad I was mollesting.

   I inserted two digits up his anal channel. He panted loudly,
undulating his gait sensuously, groaning and cooing. I was rough with
him just like Tyrone had been. Fingerfucking him with fierce pokes and
pulling on his penis like a maniac. My tongue sought his delectable
boytits and flicked them gently.

   His dry orgasm signaled the end of my playtime. The boy's cries of
joy resonated in the basement and he regained his composure silently.
A cloud of shame scudded over me. I pulled his underwear up, then his
soccer shorts, pondering the severe lack of judgement of my actions.
The whole thing had been unreasonable. I hated myself. I was so dumb.
I was sixteen.

"I'm sorry Jeremy. Please don't tell anyone." I bowed my head.

"It's okay... I came really hard!" he smiled like only a kid can
smile.


MOONGLOW    by DEBONAIR

PART 3 of 3.

   Despite my sexual assault, Jeremy still hugged me. He had a
difficult time handling the numerous spankings but he understood they
were deserved. His streak of wrongdoings had practically been halted
and his mom had started telling him that he was a nice little boy now.
Which he was elated to hear finally, after all these years of
denigration.

   She demanded to know my technique. I didn't dare tell her I was
slapping her son's bum. "It's all in the way you talk to him" I lied.
"All you have to do is make him understand how bad he has behaved."
Rubbish!

   Even though, Jeremy didn't really need my services anymore. I
continued to be his chaperon after the soccer games. We were like
brothers. But there was a void in my life. So I enrolled in a team
myself. Praying I would find a boy my age to have fun with also.

   The kid assisted my first match-up and my teammates actually
believed he was indeed my younger sibling. Afterward, I went to
him in the stands and walked him back home, holding his little hand.

"Phew! You stink! Let's take a bath." he announced, getting out of his
t-shirt.

   I undressed quietly in the familiar bathroom, admiring the body of
the eight-year-old revealed with each piece of garment falling on the
tiles. No matter how many times I had seen him naked, it was like the
first time over again.

   Jeremy turned on the radio before joining me in the tub. I
splashed water in his mouth to shut him up as he sang along with the
music. His girlish voice echoing horribly in the small room.

   Putting our feet together, sole to sole, we bicycled in the warm
water, eyeing our flaccid pricks flopping left and right between our
thighs. WCKY put on a disco hit and he climbed on the edge of the
bathtub, gripping the shower curtain pole. I laughed sincerely at the
go-go child. He waggled his behind and bucked his hips vigorously. His
testicles and penis flailing all about.

"WOOOO! Hot stuff, beefcake!" I cheered.

   The little exhibisionist was giddy. Throughout our relationship, he
had always put on shows. I wondered if he would be an actor or a clown
when he grew up and faced the dull realities of adulthood.

"Look! I can make it hard!" he shouted.

   I must avow I was impressed by the kid's spectacle. Jeremy stared
at his wee-wee and the limp cocktail wiener began to twitch. Blood
rushed to the teeny sex, slowly inflating it. The foreskin retracted
on the tip of the expanding organ and soon was tucked behind the
crown. He smiled at his prowess. His dick was pointing up without a
single contact.

   The kid had roused my cock from sleep again. I brought my knees to
my chest to hide that vile organ from his innocent eyes. He chuckled
at my shyness and dived in the bath to seperate my legs. His nubile
hands squeezed my heavy nuts and clutched my engorged shaft.

"Show me more sex stuff!" he insisted.

"Ever seen jizz?"

"Uh?" he chirped, taking on a puzzled expression.

"Keep jerking it.." I said, sticking my leg out of the tub to give him
full access to my crotch. The tyke performed his hand job with
vivacity. I could already feel my juice about to explode. "Uhhh yeah.
That's it Jeremy! Keep it up! uhhh uhhhh"

   His tiny fist crashed against the surface of the water with each
wank. "Ohhh yesss watch my peehole Jeremy!" I exhorted him. The young
devil focused all his energy on jacking me off. He slid his hand at a
at a warp-speed pace. "Ohh I'm cummmmming!"

   The outcome of my orgasm flew in the air. Jeremy scrutinized the
geyser of semen erupting from my dickhead with utmost amazement. His
cute mug beamed in the delights of the new discovery. I was the one
putting on the great show right then. My discharge was abundant at
that age. It spurted seven times from my canon in thick white ropes.
Some of it oozing down his knuckles.

   From then on, Jeremy's thirst for sexual knowledge was
unquenchable. He burned a little brighter with every additional piece
of information about sex I fed him. I was living out Plato's
'symposium'. Teaching the boy on the laws of pleasure.

   We undressed mechanically after the soccer meets. I cuddled my
immature lover on his Superman bed, smelling the boyish aroma of
pre-pubescent sweat. He awaited my touch feverishly. His senses awake,
receptive, ready to be titillated. Our respective erections jutted
from our groins. So different yet so alike.

   He was astonished by all the parts that could be stimulated on
his vibrant frame. I ventured in every crevasse, every orifice, every
tender area of his small body with my fingers and my mouth. We were
one soul. It was our dirty little secret, never to be told.

   I disbelieved how much the kid relished our encounters. Somehow,
it seemed impossible that this beautiful child of the sterile eighties
could allow me to violate his sacred intimacy. But he surrendered
himself every time. Fully, completely. There was no fear, no shame.

   His mother almost vanished from his life. She was in the jet-set
now. She attended benefits, cocktails and mingled with rich doctors.
Totally confident I was an ideal caretaker. A blessing in the
aftermath of the messy divorce that had crushed her self-esteem. I
think she never suspected once I was defiling her son.

   I could suck Jeremy's boydick for hours, giving him multiple
orgasms. Never tiring of the velvety texture of his genitals. He gave
me head every day and swallowed my load. I achieved the best cums down
his narrow throat. I ejaculated on his babyface repeatedly. It was so
wrong, so bad. But I could not stop myself.

   I was addicted to the red-head monkey. My lover. My exquisite piece
of carrot cake. "Show me more!" he pressured me, besieging me. I
flattened him on the carpet and ate his ass out. Licking his crack,
kissing his pink pucker. Jeremy spread his legs and parted his
buttocks with his tiny hands. "Oh Ben! Hmmmmmmmmmmm that's sooo
goood!"

   All the nutty flavors of his boyhole burst in my mouth. He
slithered on the floor the more I fucked his virgin anus with my big
tongue. I wiggled it inside of him, going deeper and deeper until my
lips were sealed around his rectal opening. I should have known Jeremy
was a very anal little boy after the thorough fingering he had been
through without complaining. He exhaled in ragged gasps, squeezing his
buns, pushing his bottom on my face.

   I began sodomizing him shortly after that initiation. It was the
next innate step. His sphincter only yielded to the very tip of my
penis at first. Then more of it could fit inside his clasping hole.
The process of deflowering Jeremy took weeks. He was always optimistic
in the beginning, laying on his side and convoking me behind
him to give it another shot. I hurt him with my teenage tool. My dick
wasn't very imposing. It still isn't today. And I mused that God had
given me an average equipment in order to fuck little holes. Yet, we
failed miserably to unite time after time.

   Jeremy sobbed and rejected me as soon as the diameter of my shaft
stretched his tight hole too much. But his determination was
unruffled. He yearned to feel me inside him. I penetrated him four of
five times a day. Burying myself centimer by centimeter, applying baby
oil to his rosebud to soften it, to render it supple enough to
accomodate me. Jeremy guided my prick into him, nourishing his
assmouth with my meat. I managed to spend myself into his insides just
from the powerful grip of his anal ring.

   I can recall every moment of the night we suceeded. The moon was
full, illuminating our naked bodies. The first half of my cock slipped
into him easily. Then he winced the rest of the way until my balls
were nestled next to his. My penis looked so fat in that tiny asshole.
Jeremy basked in the waves of throbbing pain and pleasure of the six
inches lodged up his rectum.

   Our first couplings were akward. I rocked gently back and forth
into the little boy. Afraid to harm him. While I screwed him, he
masturbated. His body shivered under me and he came with my hard prick
in his ass. The forbidden activity was pleasant for both of us. We
practiced it any chance we got. Jeremy was even more desirable now
that I could have anal sex with him. His adorable pink button had
been replaced by a brown dilated circle of infinite bliss.

   In time, I began mounting him like an animal, with the profound
intention of fucking him hard. The eight-year-old allowed me that
priviledge. I would take him like a storm, jabbing my entire cock in
his guts, shaking his small body. Nothing witheld me. Nor remorse, nor
morals. The walls could have crumbled down around us and I would have
pursued pounding into that divine butt.

   For years, we executed the same delicious routine. Jeremy stripped
his damp soccer clothes seductively. I spanked his white buns until
they were a nice bright red. His little pricklet required attention
and I sucked it like a whore. He convulsed and trashed with his bumpy
climax. Then I rammed my fuckstick to the root in his baby butt.
Pumping him furiously. My balls were bouncing off his ass. I spewed
cumwads after cumwads in his bowels.

   We always smooched afterward. Kissing lovingly. Tasting the
remnants of our passion on our lips. Jeremy would find it amusing. I
would go in a trance, staring at the beauty of my young partner.

                                 -=-

   But time is the assassin of all that is beautiful. Even this blond
angel, standing in front of the choir, singing his soaring aria will
probably be ugly someday. All adults are hideous beasts!

   I apologize. The smell of fresh cut grass and that marvelous
soprano voice is getting to my head. Enough boywatching for me today.
Look at the time! I'm gonna be late to pick up my guy. Oh boy, he's
gonna be pissed! My lazy bum is gonna get the paddle for sure tonight.
I can already hear the sound of the hard wood against my forty-year-
old ass! Yup. I know Jeremy well. He won't overlook my lateness.


THE END.

You can send comments and suggestions to debonair63@hotmail.com or
debonair36@hotmail.com
All flames will be ignored cuz' some people will never grasp the
concept of fiction. I do not condone any of the acts in this file.
Agatha Christie wrote about murderers all her life. She was not a
criminal. Fight for free speech and stop censorship.