This story is purely fiction, and contains sexually explicit situtions possibly involving (but not limited to) rape, pedophilia, vegetables, coffee mugs, and various farm animals.

The characters in these stories are in no way based on real people. If you feel that they might be based on you, you are probably an idiot. I don't know you.

Keep this shit out of the hands of children you lazy, thoughtless bastard. Do you have ANY idea what a kid who read this stuff during his childhood would grow up to be? Well, YOU'RE READING THE KIND OF FUCKED UP SHIT HE WOULD END UP WRITING.

Enjoy.
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Like most horny, hormone-crazed 14 year olds, I masturbated once a day, sometimes two or three, and still seemed to have a constant hard-on. My fantasies varied widely. A lot of it involved rape and lesbianism - both of which I found unbearably erotic.

Recently, a sick new fantasy had been creeping its way into my mind during times of masturbation. It was sick and twisted, I knew (which is probably part of the reason it turned me on so much). Every night, as much as I tried to think about chicks sucking on eachothers cunts, my mind was pervaded by images of my brother, bent over and screaming, as I tore apart his virgin ass. The next night I might be spanking him, and the next night I might have him on his knees, sucking my dick.

With the voyeurism and exhibitionism that comes with being a horny 14 year old, I was not particularly ashamed of these fantasies. I figured it was normal - a phase, or something.

But it wasn't. For weeks, it was all I could think about. I had even worked out a plan in my head, purely for erotic purposes. I never intended to do anything.

I imagined I would wait until my dad had to work late one night and my mom had to go run errands. My brother would be in our room, watching TV or something, and I would run in and pin him to the ground. I would tear his clothes off, use belts to bind his hands, and I would stuff some clothes into his mouth to keep him quiet. Then, given my huge strength advantage, I could do whatever I pleased.

But as much as I tried to ignore the fantasy, the more it took a hold of me. I can't recall my logical reasoning at the time - it must have been somewhere along the lines of, "If I just do this, get it out of my system, I can stop fantasizing about it," or maybe I was just so blinded by lust that I gave up on logic, and just let my dick take control.

Once I had made up my mind that I was going to act on my fantasies, once I had convinced myself of how foolproof and great a plan I had, I began to wait for the right time.

Within a week, the perfect circumstances had arisen. My dad was out of town to a business meeting in Seattle and my mom had left to go grocery shopping and to the post office. She said she would be back in a few hours.

Perfect.

We sat in the living room for a few minutes, watching TV. Without a word, he stood up and started up the stairs. I saw him go into our room and close the door.

I had wanted to take him in our room so that we could use the bed, and because our mom would not accidentally walk in on us.

Slowly, silently, I walked up the stairs. When I got to the door to our room, and I turned it and slowly as possible, but found it to be locked.

I figured he was changing clothes or something. Great, I thought. This was the perfect chance to pick the lock, run in and get to skip the step of stripping him, which was probably going to be the hardest part of my little plan.

I ran downstairs, grabbed a steel skewer, and poked it through the tiny hole in the door knob. The door swung open.

I was amazed at what I saw upon entering the room. He was lying on his back on the bed, a bottle of baby oil (which I had snagged and kept in my sock drawer for use as lubricant when masturbating) was on the floor. Some of it was on his hand, and some more was on his rigid little dick. He was jacking off.

As soon as he saw me, he let out a little shriek of surprise and tried to cover himself.

In one bound, I leaped across the room and pinned him to the bed. He strarted swearing and struggling back, apologizing for masturbating, and crying.

He must have thought I was mad at him for jerking off. Hah.

He was already half naked, and it wasn't much of a challenge to get his shirt off.

Now that he was entirely nude, I decided I should probably shut him up, before the neighbors got suspicious. I grabbed his pair of underwear off the bed and crammed it into his mouth.

His face reeled in confusion and disgust. I am pretty confident he had no idea what was going on right then.

I slipped off my belt and secured his wrists, despite much struggling from him.

It was a challenge to keep him pinned down while I took all my clothes off, but I succeeded, and all of his whimpering and squirming was turning me on.

I could see a genuine terror and confusion in his eyes, and he was beginning to sob. This had gone beyond our occasional wrestling, and he knew it. I slapped him in the face and told him that if he moved I would beat the shit out of him. I bent over to pick up the bottle of lube he had laying on the floor.

I looked at my semi-turgid cock, and then at his. Mine was about six inches long - larger than average, but not huge. His was short of five, and considerably skinnier. My crotch was covered in thick, black pubic hair. On his, I could see the first few patches of blonde, colorless hair beginning to appear. His previously-erect dick had not wilted a bit in the time since I had entered the room. The little pervert was enjoying himself.

I guess he was pretty cute for a boy. Short, dark hair that he usually spiked; smoothe, tanned skin; a handful of freckles splashed across his face; and not a trace of fat on his little body. Lucky for me, he was not particularly strong, even though he did play for the school lacrosse team.

He was still laying on his back, his hands bound behind him, and his face contorted in terror and humiliation. He had tried to kick me a few times, and everytime he did I would reach up and pinch his scrotum sharply between my finger nails. He stopped kicking.

I poured some lube into my palm and spread it on my now fully-erect cock. I knew how I wanted to fuck him, too. I wanted to take his feet and hold them up, or put them on my shoulders if he was limber enough, and fuck him with his back still on the bed. That way I could see his face while I was doing it.

I grabbed his ankles, with slight resistance, and put them up on my shoulders. Damn, he was limber.

I put some baby oil on my finger and went to smear it on his ass pucker and he clenched his cheeks so that I could not get past. I sighed at his pathetic attempt at maintaining his virginity, used my hands to pry his ass cheeks apart, and began smearing a thin coat over his little shithole. I moved to put the tip of my cock at his little opening when he started his clenching act again.

Instead of saying anything, I grabbed his little scrotum. I grabbed his balls tight in my fist and started to squeeze. It took only the slightest pressure to get him to screaming around the gag, probably as loud as he possibly could.

"I'm going to keep squeezing harder until you unclench your ass. In a few seconds you won't be able to have children."

He didn't make it five seconds before I felt him unclench and his breathing become a sort of erratic, panicked gasping. He was terrified.

I smirked, took my dick and pressed it against his little rosebud. After a few seconds, my engorged head slid in, making him grunt. Knowing that listening to him while I fucked him would be a turn on, I took the pair of jockeys out of his mouth. He started moaning and saying that it hurt, that it felt like he had to shit. Ignoring his pleas, I pushed on, with every millimeter of my engorged cock bringing him more agony, and making his little erection throb and grow larger and larger.

"Ooooo, stop, angh, oh, ah! Gah! T..t..take it.. out! Please! Uhhnngg..." he sobbed pathetically.

Inside of him felt wonderful. It was one thousand times better than any form of masturbation. It was warm and soft, and the writhing and beggings of the helpless little boy in front of me did a lot to further my pleasure.

Once I had it all in, he was gasping for breath, and I felt the walls of his rectum contracting convulsively, trying to expell the intruder. I pulled slowly out, listening to him grunt and groan even harder than when I had put it in.Once I had it all out, I rammed it back in, being a bit slow to be sure not to rupture the delicate walls of his rectum. I had read a bit about anal sex online when I had been experiencing with anal masturbation, and I knew that rough anal sex or masturbation could result in tearing the thin wall of the rectum.

Once I had gone in and out a few times, I started picking up a rythm. He continued pleading and begging, threatening and cursing, moaning and groaning. I could tell he was in torturous pain, and I loved it.

After just a few minutes, I felt a powerful orgasm building. I pushed into him as far as I possibly could and felt my scrotum tighten up and my balls convulse and I pumped load after load of my jizm into his sore, bleeding asshole.

I pulled out with a plop, looking at my shit, blood, and semen covered cock. He looked at it, panting and whimpering still, and then at his erection, straining against his body, threatening to leap off if it did not get attention.I undid his bonds, and his first action was to start masturbating. In a few seconds, he shot his thin boy cum all over himself. Once he was done, I grabbed him and led him to the bathroom. He walked like my dick was still up his ass. I ran a warm shower, and he was still bawling.

"Now tell me you didn't love having my cock up your ass, you little slut," I said with a smirk, looking at the semen he had unloaded on himself, delighted by his humiliation at having enjoyed it. Of course, it was not his fault. Anyone whose prostate gets stimulated is going to get physically aroused on whether they are gay or not, but he didn't know that.As we showered, I did something that only a fourteen your old can do. I got hard again, only five minutes after I had come. I was washing his blood and shit off my cock while he was gingerly trying to rinse the blood and cum off his ass. He was still crying, but very softly. He noticed me staring at him, and then my hard-on. He looked into my eyes pleadingly, knowing what was coming."Bend over," I commanded. He shook his head and tried to step out of the shower, but I stopped him.

"You could just suck me off," I said. "That way, you won't have to get your ass pounded, but I know how much you love that." His freckled face showed his digust at the thought of having my dick in his mouth, but he realized that I was much stronger, and that I was going to have my dick in one hole or another sooner or later.I pushed him down to his knees and presented my now-cleaned crotch to his face. I simply pushed it into his half opened mouth, and told him to suck and lick it. He didn't know quite what to do, so I just started fucking his mouth like I fucked his ass. It felt almost as good, but there was less friction.I started pushing harder, into his throat, making him gag. With every thrust I slammed into the back of his throat, making him gasp for breathe and sob whenever he physically could. Soon enough, I was shooting my seed down his throat. This made him gag more than anything, and he rolled onto the floor, having dry heaves, trying to throw up. He kept coughing and spitting, trying to stop the cum that was slowly rolling down his throat into his stomach, but he was helpless to stop it.

Red assed and hoarse of voice, he walked out, dried, and got dressed. He avoided me the rest of the day.

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