index

Message-ID: <52737asstr$1136038208@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; q=dns; c=nofws;
  s=s1024; d=yahoo.com.au;
  h=Message-ID:Received:Date:From:Subject:To:MIME-Version:Content-Type:Content-Transfer-Encoding;
  b=Dw3i9J671yeraQZALsecE2/8oQ6PDmNravLtnnrNQzWjNhIJkPInBxvUmaHEhZh5u6OGLedGpbaXjBSOxMLV6RrszYuxwT/pb+IPNaUP7h8xa+Rh+J+t65yhoM2eUAP8aghcqItbhprisaF3bBaiuz926lUtCym1q3hoa1uuyUw=  ;
From: John Aitek <arkayz_bible@yahoo.com.au>
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Subject: {ASSM} Yummy Little Boy Poo {The Arkayz Bible} (Mm* ped nc scat ws)
Lines: 887
Date: Sat, 31 Dec 2005 09:10:08 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

   


Send instant messages to your online friends http://au.messenger.yahoo.com 
<1st attachment, "yummy-little-boy-poo.txt" begin>

Yummy Little Boy Poo  
 
You may freely distribute this story for profit or 
otherwise so long as no changes are made.

By Arkayz Bible  
Dec-2005  

I went to the city with Dad and we went shopping for a 
cat. We went to the pet store where I chose a kitten. The 
pet store owner told me it took a few days for pets to be 
registered, so I had to wait maybe a day or two before 
the kitten was sent to my home. Dad and I were going to 
have to travel back home together but while at the city 
Dad got a phone call and told me he was needed at the 
office and had to work, which meant that I had to take 
the train back home by myself, which wasn't too much of a 
problem because I knew the trains fairly well.  
 
As I entered the subway station, someone was handout out 
free newspapers. I took one but didn't read it. I only 
got the newspapers so I could bring them home and use 
them as disposable table cloths.  
 
As I leaned down and did my shoelaces, someone bumped 
into me. This wasn't unusual in a crowded subway but this 
person who bumped into me didn't bother to move away or 
to apologize. It seemed as if this person bumped into me 
without knowing he bumped into me, as if I were 
invisible.  
 
I looked at the offender and noticed that he was a small 
boy, probably about six or seven years old. He wore green 
and yellow tracksuits, most likely a school sports 
uniform. He carried a black backpack that seemed rather 
large for his small body. His hair was messy and 
naturally fell around his head like water from a 
fountain. His face could aptly be described as cute. He 
was approximately three to four feet tall. He stood near 
a much taller person, a school friend or maybe an older 
brother.  
 
The little boy didn't even know he had bumped into me and 
just walked away from me for a few seconds before 
standing still with his friend. Both were talking about 
something that I couldn't hear because of the noisy 
subway I was in.  
 
A mechanical female voice could be heard crackling 
through the subway speakers. "The 4:37 train to Glen 
Waverley will arrive at Platform 4 in one minute. Please 
remember to validate your ticket before you travel."  
 
Ever since I was little I have always been afraid of 
being run over by a train, so whenever the train was 
approaching I would stand well clear of the tracks. The 
little kid and his friends were right next to the tracks. 
They were playing around. The older kid pushed the little 
boy towards the train tracks but pulled him back 
immediately after, scaring the little boy. The little kid 
was scared at first but, after realizing his friend was 
only messing around with him, started to relax and 
casually hit the older boy back with a friendly punch.  
 
A glowing light appeared at the end of the tunnel. The 
train was approaching. The place became very windy, 
blowing my clothing around, messing up my hair. Discarded 
pieces of newspaper on the ground flew everywhere. One 
page hit a woman on the face. The woman grabbed the paper 
in disgust and threw the page away. When the train was 
about to stop, the little kid and his school friends 
decided to be rebels and touch the windows of the train 
as it was still moving. Some of the middle-aged and older 
commuters glanced at the misbehaving youngsters, but most 
just tried their hardest to ignore them. I was staring at 
that little boy who had bumped into me earlier. He was 
messing around like his friends were, but he wasn't as 
extreme as the others. He misbehaved to a degree that 
guaranteed acceptance by his peers. Once he had crossed 
that line where his peers would accept him, he was 
clearly aware of the adult eyes watching him and didn't 
overdo his rebellion. As rebellious as young people may 
be, this kid still felt compelled to conform to adult 
standards.  
 
The train doors opened. The school kids walked into a 
middle carriage. I made sure I followed him and his 
friends into this carriage, trying to look as if I was 
not intentionally following them, like I had entered that 
carriage because it was the closest one to me.  
 
I kept my eye on the little boy the whole time I was on 
the train. He played around with his friends, who were 
really noisy. They were so noisy most of the other old 
people in the train kept glancing at them, probably 
thinking about how stupid kids nowadays were. As the 
train stopped at more and more train stations, the kid's 
friends started to leave and I found myself looking at 
two people, the little boy as well as another older boy.  
 
As the train moved through the suburbs, I stood and kept 
looking at the little boy. Because I didn't want anyone 
to catch me leering at the kid I alternated between the 
little boy and the window. Both views were nice. For some 
reason I liked looking outside the train window as it 
passed through the suburbs. The suburban houses were so 
nice, especially when we went through an affluent suburb 
like Toorak. I liked looking at the big houses with 
Lexuses and Mercedes parked outside. I often think about 
how great it would be to have lots of money. When I 
looked at the little kid, I saw him staring out the 
window as well. The sunlight shone and lit up his hair. 
The little boy turned towards the older kid standing near 
him.  
 
"Look, a twuck!" said the little boy, pointing out the 
window. "There's another one."  
 
"I've been on a truck before. There aren't many trucks 
where I live though."  
 
"Where do you live, Mark?" asked the little boy.  
 
Mark looked down at the kid, who was about half his size. 
"Brighton." Compared to the little kid, Mark voice was 
deep and broken. While the little kid wore colorful 
sports tracksuits, Mark wore the standard school uniform, 
a black blazer jacket over a white shirt and dark blue 
tied. He wore grey pants and a belt to hold the pants up. 
His hair was dark brown and gelled to the back.  
 
"Wow, Brighton! That's where all the rich people live," 
said the little boy.  
 
"I'm getting off at Mount Waverley today though. My mom's 
picking me up there 'cos we're going to some relative's 
wedding. This is like the fifth time he's been married. 
The guy's probably fucked around with about a million 
women. Now that is a winner."  
 
The little boy smiled, probably because his older friend 
Mark swore.  
 
Mark spoke. "Have you ever fucked a little girl, Tommy?"  
 
The little boy whose name must have been Tom or Tommy 
looked around nervously. Mark's voice was rather loud, so 
other people on the train, including the old people, 
could hear him.  
 
"No," said Tom softly, not wanting other people on the 
train to hear him. "I'm too little to do that."  
 
"Rubbish! I know kids about your age who have bitches all 
over them."  
 
Little Tommy took his eyes away from Mark's and stared at 
the slideshow of houses outside. "I don't know. I don't 
like playing with girls."  
 
"You got the Internet at home?"  
 
"Yep, but Mommy watches me when I use it."  
 
"You've never seen porn?"  
 
"Maybe a little," said Tom, his voice so sweet compared 
to Mark's hoarse and rough voice.  
 
"You wanna see some porn? I've got some I'll give you for 
some money. How about ten bucks? You get much pocket 
money from your mom and dad?"  
 
"Umm." Tom looked down at his lap. "I told you I don't 
have a girlfriend."  
 
"You don't have a girlfriend? What about that small girl 
you were drawing the pictures with today at lunch? I saw 
you with her. What's her name, Lily?"  
 
"The teacher made us do that."  
 
"She's pretty nice though, isn't she?"  
 
Tom smiled.  
 
"The chicks love me," said Mark. "Do you know why?"  
 
"Do you like Lily?" asked Tom.  
 
"Small children are not my thing. I'm not a pervert like 
some people. I prefer the big tits and the wide hips of a 
woman in her late teens, twenties, or thirties. I'm gonna 
tell you something, Tom. I'm gonna tell you something 
about women. I'm gonna tell you a secret that will make 
the ladies love you like they love me."  
 
"What?"  
 
"They may not admit it," said Mark, "but all women want 
to be dominated." Mark saw quite a few people standing 
nearby on the train looking at him, including me. He 
seemed to like this attention though. "Do you think the 
bitches come to me because of my looks? That may be part 
of it but ultimately, let's face it, the bitches need to 
be protected, they need someone with money and with power 
to watch over them, to tell them what to do because they 
are just pathetic bitches who have no idea what to do 
without the aid of a man like me."  
 
"Really? Are you sure?"  
 
"You only have to look around," said Mark. "Among all 
men, who are the ones in highest demand, and what do they 
all have in common? Have a look at the losers, and ask 
yourself: what is it they all have that the winners 
don't?" Mark paused. His voice seemed to lose its 
coarseness and became smoother. "If you want to know what 
the bitches want in a man, look at the car. Why do we buy 
cars? One reason is because we want status. Likewise, a 
woman wants status by attaching herself to a man of high 
prestige..."  
 
"I want a car so I can drive places but my daddy says not 
yet."  
 
"That's another point I was getting to. The bitches want 
a man who are moving, men who are going somewhere with 
their lives. Just as a car needs an engine and an engine 
needs fuel, so too a man needs an engine to move him 
places. What is the engine that drives man?"  
 
The little boy laughed. "I don't know what you're talking 
about!"  
 
Mark smiled. "The engine that drives man is greed! The 
road that man walks upon is the road of wealth."  
 
"When my mommy was shopping for cars, she liked black 
cars."  
 
"She didn't care about the engine?"  
 
The little boy shook his head.  
 
"That's another point I was getting to," said Mark. "A 
car is made up of the essentials that move the car, like 
the engine, but there is more to a car than the engine. 
There is also the exterior, the shell of the car. Just as 
a car has an exterior to conceal the engine so too a man 
should have an exterior to conceal the engine that drives 
him, to conceal his greed. Women want to see a car that 
has an engine to move, but they also want a car that 
looks good. In the same way, woman want a man who can 
move along the road of wealth but they don't want to see 
too much detail about how greedy he is, how it is exactly 
that he obtains his wealth. Women don't give a shit about 
how the car moves so long as the fucking car moves, and 
woman don't give a shit about the way a man makes his 
money so long as he makes the fucking money in the first 
place and conceals his methods. Moving a car is not 
pretty, all the oil and grease, all the wires, the 
pistons and all that shit...it's disgusting...but the sight 
of a nice car moving...that's what we want in a car. Making 
money is the same. Making money is not pretty...the 
deception, the greed, the lying...whatever! But the things 
that money buys are very, very pretty. And that is what 
the bitches all want. That is why I am a winner. I'm 
exposing the truth to you, and if you accept it, you can 
move even further upon the road of wealth, and like me 
ten or fifteen women will hit on you every single day."  
 
The cute little boy looked at his older friend quietly.  
 
Suddenly, a rather big man approached Mark and Tom. This 
man didn't look too presentable. To sum it up, he looked 
like a bum. His hair was unkempt. His pale face was 
wrinkled even though he was clearly only middle-aged, he 
wore a sweaty singlet, he had excessive body hair on his 
exposed arms, and his right hand was clutching a bottle 
of beer. As the man walked by, his stench filled my nose, 
almost inducing the vomit reflex within me.  
 
"Move away from the door, fuckers!" he screamed at Mark 
and Tom. "I'm gettin' out at the next stop."  
 
Mark faced the bum. "What is with you, yer bum?"  
 
"What did yer call me? Huh?"  
 
"I called you a bum."  
 
"Who are you calling a bum, yer fuckin' snot-nosed smart-
arse kid! You think you're so good, huh? Yer think yer 
better than me?"  
 
Mark shook his head. "Get a job, you bum."  
 
"You think yer better than me?"  
 
"I'm still young, but I make more than 2000 dollars a 
week. What about you?"  
 
"I was fuckin' in the army!" said the bum. "I fought for 
this country. What have you done wit yer life that 
compared to that?"  
 
"You are a fool!" said Mark. "You don't have the ability 
to make yourself better so that you can be proud of 
yourself as an individual so you try to get pride from 
the country. Fucking loser. No wonder you're a fucking 
bum."  
 
The bum looked closer at Mark. "Are you a fucking 
Italian?"  
 
"What the fuck are you talking about? I was born in this 
country, man."  
 
"You're a fucking Italian, aren't you? You're not one of 
us. You're trying to destroy us. I'm a patriot! I love my 
country."  
 
"Is that the shit you use to make yourself feel better 
about your position in life? Mate, you have more in 
common with a bum in Italy than I do. You fucking lazy 
bums are a nation to yourself!"  
 
"Oh, you think you're good because your dad's in the 
mafia!"  
 
"What the fuck do you know about my dad? Dumbass, you're 
like an astrologer. You think you know everything about 
me because you think I look Italian! You might as well 
read lines on my palm and tell me who I'll marry. You are 
a fucking loser who has no individual worth, so you 
fucking leech pride off other successful people by using 
something other than money to unite yourself to them."  
 
The little boy seemed scared now. The commotion was 
attraction quite an audience as passengers twisted in 
their seats to watch the argument.  
 
"What a fucker!" said the bum. "You think you're so good 
because yer rich! I bet you don't even make the money you 
have. Yer leech it off yer parents just like yer leeching 
off the freedom I fought fer you."  
 
"I make all my money!" said Mark.  
 
The train stopped at the next stop. Mark reached into his 
school blazer and took out a ten dollar note. "I know how 
you bums behave." He opened the train door, scrunched the 
paper note into a ball with one hand, and threw it about 
ten meters outside. "Go fetch the money, you bum! You're 
the one not welcome here!"  
 
"Think I give a shit about yer money? I'm gonna get out, 
but not because of the money. I'm gonna walk away because 
this is my stop anyway."  
 
"Yeah, I don't give a rat's ass whatever excuse you have. 
Just go out there and take the money. It's a month's 
salary to you."  
 
"You're gone, yer fucker!"  
 
The train door closed automatically. The bum had missed 
his stop. As the train started moving again, the bum 
moved towards Mark and swung a punch in his direction. 
But Mark seemed prepared. He dodged the fist and punched 
the bum back on his stomach. The bum, however, seemed 
like a hardened man whose body was as tough as a boxer's. 
He recovered quickly and ran towards Mark, pushing him. 
Mark fell onto Tom, the little boy, who really looked 
scared now. Once Mark was on the floor, the bum jumped on 
him and punched him in the face. The little boy looked in 
horror as his older friend was hit on the face.  
 
"No, don't hurt him!" said the little boy. "Don't hurt 
him please!"  
 
"Fuck off, kid!" cried the bum, pushing the kid away 
roughly. The little kid was hurled back and fell on the 
floor right next to my foot. I took the opportunity to 
reach down and grab the kid, making it look like I was 
protecting him.  
 
The bum sat on Mark. After quite a bit of struggling, 
Mark kicked the bum off with his legs. Mark then grabbed 
the bum with his left hand and punched him again this 
time on his face. The bum was much older and bigger than 
Mark, so Mark probably knew he wasn't going to win a fist 
fight with the guy. Mark then pulled out a gun from his 
pocket.  
 
"Come near me and I'll shoot you!" said Mark as the train 
stopped at the next station. "Get off the next station. 
Make no sudden movements."  
 
The bum became scared when he saw the gun. He stayed on 
the floor and crawled out before the train door closed 
behind him. Once the train started moving again, all the 
passengers who watched the fight knew it was all over. 
They turned around and went back to whatever they were 
doing. I still held the little boy by his small and 
smooth hands. My penis was level with his head, so I 
shoved the stiffness at his hair and felt the softness 
rub all over. I relaxed my grip on the little boy, giving 
him the option of escaping my hold and running back to 
his older friend Mark. But the little kid stayed with me.  
 
Mark put his gun back in his pocket and fixed up his 
hair. He saw me with Tom and walked over to us.  
 
"What a fucking bum," said Mark, smiling. "You know, for 
all their similarities the only difference between men 
and cars is that cars don't get jealous."  
 
"You carry around a gun?" asked Tom.  
 
Mark spoke. "You can't blame a dog for being a dog, and 
you can't blame a bum for being a bum. You gotta protect 
yourself when you're around a dangerous dog, and likewise 
you gotta protect yourself if you're around bums."  
 
Mark went off at the next stop, leaving Tommy with me. 
The little boy got out of my grip but still stood right 
next to me, as if I was his new friend. He looked up at 
me.  
 
"Where do you live?" he asked, looking a little shaken 
and scared from the fight he just witnessed.  
 
"Malvern. What about you, Tommy? Is that your name?"  
 
The little boy nodded. "I get off at Tooronga."  
 
I nodded, not really knowing where that was.  
 
The train then arrived at Tooronga Station. The kid 
heaved his bag over his little body, pushed the train 
door open, and said goodbye before walking out. He said 
goodbye as if he expected to see me next time, but what 
were the chances? I only took this train to go to the 
city to buy a pet and I don't go to the city often, so if 
I didn't get off quickly then this was most likely the 
last time I would ever see this cute kid. He was such a 
beautiful little boy.  
 
Although this wasn't my station, I got off anyway and 
followed the kid. I stayed behind him so he couldn't see 
me stalking. It was a sunny day. The sunlight instantly 
warmed my body till I was starting to sweat. Near 
Tooronga Station was a car park. This was typical for 
train stations out in the suburbs.  
 
As I watched the little boy, I noticed he was walking 
into the toilets. This was the perfect opportunity for me 
to see him again. But I started to wonder what he would 
think. Should I say hi to the kid? I was still thinking 
about how I was going to introduce myself to the little 
boy as I walked into the toilet block.  
 
When I walked into the toilet block, I was greeted by the 
usual: a metal urinal in the center, hand basins to the 
right, and two toilet cubicles on the left. One toilet 
cubicle had its door wide open, exposing the toilet 
within. The lighting in these toilets was hardly 
adequate. While many public toilets had white tiles and 
fluorescent lights, this toilet had concrete walls and 
there were holes in the walls that allowed sunlight to 
enter. The place smelled of urine.  
 
Although one of the toilet cubicles had its door wide 
open, the other cubicle had its door closed but not 
locked. I could see that the door was not fully closed. I 
kneeled down and looked under the door to see the back of 
the boy's shoes and shins. The sound of trickling liquid 
soon followed. The little boy was urinating.  
 
I approached the toilet cubicle slowly and pushed the 
door open, careful not to push too hard lest the hinges 
started creaking. Once I had opened the door enough, my 
head poked in and I looked inside. Even though the little 
boy had his back towards me, I was about two times taller 
than he was, so I could see his little penis as he 
urinated.  
 
Once my whole body was inside the toilet cubicle I closed 
the door behind me and locked it. The little boy must 
have heard the metal locks clanking because he turned 
around quickly and backed away from me, obviously scared. 
He had been urinating, so when he turned around, streams 
of urine sprayed all over the cubicle like a sprinkler, 
some of it landing on me. The boy hurriedly zipped up his 
pants to cover his private parts, zipping up too quickly 
that urine still dripping from the head of his penis 
started to stain the front of his pants. The boy silently 
looked towards me and breathed heavily, expecting me to 
do something. He had backed himself as far away from me 
as possible, but inside a toilet cubicle there was hardly 
any room to move, and I was still about one-point-five 
meters away from him.  
 
"It's okay, kid," I said, trying to reassure him. "It's 
me, remember? I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."  
 
The little boy nodded slightly but still looked scared.  
 
"My name's Philip. You can keep weeing if you want, 
Tommy."  
 
Tom kept still.  
 
"Would you like to make some money? Do you want forty 
dollars?"  
 
The little boy looked up at me. He stilled looked 
anxious, but the talk about money certainly had an 
effect, albeit a small effect. I had more money in my 
wallet--about 2000 dollars to be precise--but I didn't 
want to spend too much if I didn't have to.  
 
"I'll give you forty dollars," I said, "if you let me 
drink your wee."  
 
"Umm..." He looked at me. "I also need to do a poo."  
 
"That's okay. Maybe I can eat that."  
 
Tom's mouth opened up slightly in surprise.  
 
"Sit back down now," I said, gently reaching for the 
little boy's zipper. "If you need to go wee and poo, 
let's get those pants off." I unzipped the zipper, 
revealing his underwear. My hands grabbed the top of his 
pants and pulled them down all the way to his feet. I 
grabbed the little boy by his hips and gently pushed him 
till he was sitting on the toilet again. I then kneeled 
down on the concrete floor. The hard concrete didn't feel 
good against my knees, but the sight of the little boy's 
penis before me was adequate compensation. I took off my 
shirt and threw it on the concrete behind me. I soon 
noticed that when Tom sat down on the toilet seat the 
sole of his shoes didn't reach the concrete floor. His 
legs were too short and they dangled around cutely. I 
started to wonder about the boy's age.  
 
"How old are you, Tommy?"  
 
"Seven."  
 
With the 7-year-old boy sitting on the toilet with his 
pants around his shins, I brought my head down, bringing 
my face close to the little boy's penis. The smell from 
the boy's crotch area started to reach my nose. It was 
the warm smell of dick. Tom's penis was about three 
inches long. It looked semi-erect. His scrotum had no 
hair at all. Just how I liked it!  
 
My fingers grabbed the end of the little boy's juicy 
penis. I pulled back the foreskin. He was uncircumcised. 
The foreskin seemed to stick against the glans as it 
peeled back. Since Tom had been urinating earlier, small 
drops of liquid bubbled out from the urethral opening. I 
brought my mouth towards the tip of the penis and licked 
this salty liquid. My mouth then covered one inch of the 
boy's penis. My tongue started invading the deep pockets 
underneath his foreskin, picking up sticky and tasty 
residue that had been sitting there for days. The organ 
seemed to grow harder as I licked it more and more. The 
sticky slime hiding underneath the little boy's foreskin 
had been fermented over many days and was now so tasty.  
 
"Can I wee now?" Tom asked.  
 
I pull my face away from his penis. "Hold on, Tommy."  
 
I felt uncomfortable with my kneeling position. My knees 
felt sore from the hard concrete below. As I was 
kneeling, all the weight was concentrated on my knees, 
which was creating pain there. I decided to adjust 
myself, this time sitting down with my bottom on the 
concrete with my legs spread out straight flanking the 
base of the toilet. The soles of my shoes touched the 
wall of the toilet. Because my bottom was now on the 
concrete instead of my knees, my mouth was no longer 
level with Tom's penis. As I sat, Tom's penis was level 
with my eyes but my mouth was level to the toilet seat. 
Tom's penis obviously sat a few inches above the toilet 
seat.  
 
My hands grabbed Tom's hips and moved him forward till 
his penis was closer to my face. With my right hand I 
grabbed his penis and directed it down till it aimed at 
my nose. I tilted my head back till the penis was aimed 
at my top lips.  
 
"You can pee now, Tommy."  
 
As I opened my mouth, my head tilted back even further. A 
hot stream of brightly yellow liquid shot out and 
initially hit me on the top lip. The urine splashed 
around, many droplets landing on my face. With my fingers 
on the little boy's penis I aimed down a little till the 
stream of urine went straight into my open mouth. The 
urine started to build up at the back of my throat. I 
could feel the warmth of the liquid on my cheeks. I was 
too hesitant to swallow and the urine started to 
overflow, dripping down my neck and body, some of it 
staining my pants. For a long time I had been looking at 
the little boy's penis. I looked up and saw Tom's face 
looking down at me. His curious eyes especially looked 
down at the odd sight below. He was an adorable boy with 
such a cute face. As I admired him, his urine became more 
palatable, and I started swallowing. My esophagus 
instantly warmed up as the hot liquid went down towards 
my stomach and heated up my chest. The saltiness and 
bitterness was registered on my tongue before tingling my 
throat and esophagus, as well as other parts of my body 
as the urine went down. The stream started to die down. I 
kept gulping and gulping till my mouth was empty. When 
Tom had run out of urine, he stared at me as I looked up 
at him.  
 
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Why are you crying?"  
 
At first, I didn't know what the boy was talking about. 
Then I realized that my eyes were watering. The strong 
bitterness of the urine made my eyes water. I wasn't 
crying though.  
 
"Does it taste yummy?" Tom asked.  
 
"It does." I smiled up at him. "You've got delicious wee 
wee."  
 
The boy said earlier he needed to defecate, so I stood up 
and picked up the boy with my hands underneath his 
armpits and positioned him in front of the toilet where 
he stood. I was wearing no shirt but was wearing pants. I 
took the pants and underwear off and threw them with my 
shirt on the concrete. Tom's eyes widened when he saw my 
fully erect penis. I was completely naked now except for 
my socks. I positioned myself between the little boy and 
the toilet. I sat down on the toilet myself, enjoying the 
warmth of the toilet seat on my bottom now that the 
little boy had warmed it up. As I sat on the toilet I was 
looking at the back of the little boy whose pants were 
down. I saw the little boy's bottom and noticed a foul 
smell. My hands grabbed his bum cheeks and pried them 
apart so the opening of his anus could be exposed. I 
noticed that half a piece of poo was coming out of the 
anal hole, which explained the smell.  
 
I released my grip on the bum cheeks, letting them flap 
back together. With two fingers on my right hand I 
snapped the portion of poo coming out from the anus and 
with one hand rubbed the poo on my palm using my fingers. 
Bringing the poo on my hand down between my legs, I 
wanked myself, smearing the poo on my erect penis and 
moaned in pleasure as the boy's moist juicy warm poo 
lubricated my cock.  
 
With my left hand I grabbed the little boy's hips and 
pulled him back so he was sitting on my lap. My poo-
stained penis sat between the little boy's bum cheeks. As 
the little boy sat on my laps, he saw my poo-stained 
right hand grab his right thighs.  
 
"Yuck!" he said.  
 
"Take off your shirt," I said. "Take off all your 
clothes. I don't want them to get dirty."  
 
Immediately the kid took off his top and threw it on the 
concrete floor. Using only his feet he took off his shoes 
and flicked them onto the concrete. He then let his pants 
slip off his legs till he was completely naked except for 
his school socks. We were both completely naked now 
except for our socks. We could get a dirty as we wanted.  
 
As the boy moved, his bum cheeks moved up and down. My 
erect penis between the little boy's bum cheeks were 
massaged in the process.  
 
"You can poo now, Tommy. Start pooing."  
 
I felt the boy's poo snake out from his anus and onto my 
penis, which he was sitting on. I kept my left hand on 
Tom's hips and with my poo-stained right hand grabbed the 
little boy's now 4-inch erect penis. I pumped my right 
hand up and down on the little boy's penis. The poo 
lubricant stained his slightly tanned outer foreskin and 
made it dark brown. As I masturbated the little boy, his 
whole body moved and his bottom especially moved up and 
down. I started bucking my hips back and forth, moving my 
penis along the valley between his bum cheeks. As the 
moist squishy poo came out it was quickly mangled as my 
penis moved back and forth. Much of the poo tumbled over 
my penis and dropped between my legs down to the toilet 
water. Some of the poo ended up underneath my foreskin as 
my penis pumped up and down.  
 
Suddenly, the poo came out at a greater rate of flow from 
Tom's anus. The rate of flow of poo was so great that the 
little boy was pushed up a little. The poo started to 
overflow upwards, with poo dropping on my pubes. When Tom 
had finished pooing, most of the poo was in the toilet 
water, but much of it was trapped between his bum cheeks 
and large chucks were all over my penis. Tom stood up, 
turned around, and looked at me. He looked down at the 
mess between my legs.  
 
"Tommy, I want you to scoop up all that poo on your 
bottom with your hands, okay? I want you to feed it to 
me. I want to eat your poo."  
 
The little boy reached behind him with his right hand and 
scooped out a handful of poo for me to see. I grabbed the 
little boy by the hips with both hands and brought his 
closer to me. I sat him on my lap, but this time instead 
of facing him away from me as he sat on my lap he now 
faced me as he sat on my lap. His legs straddled my hips. 
His penis touched my penis. My hands had a firm hold on 
his hips lest he fell backwards. My hands went up along 
his back. Since my right hand was poo-stained, I left a 
strand of poo on his skin as I brought my hands up and 
rested them under his armpits.  
 
I spoke. "I'm going to put my wiener in your bum, okay?"  
 
The boy's eyes widened. He shook his head. "No, I don't 
want that."  
 
"I'll pay you more. I promise. It won't hurt too much."  
 
With both my hands underneath the little boy's armpits, I 
lifted the boy up till his bottom hovered over my erect 
penis.  
 
"Tommy, with your left hand, the hand without the poo, I 
want you to reach down and position my wiener as I bring 
you down so that my wiener goes into your bum hole."  
 
Keeping the poo in his right hand, Tom brought his left 
hand down and grabbed my penis. The little boy's soft 
small hands on my penis felt great. As I brought the 
little boy down, he moved my penis around till the head 
touched the tip of his anal opening. As I brought the 
little boy down further, my penis entered the little 
boy's virgin anal hole. It went in one inch before the 
little boy closed his eyes.  
 
"Ouch," he said. "That hurts."  
 
"I'm sorry," I said, freezing and giving the boy some 
time for the pain to subside. I opened my mouth. "You can 
put the poo in my mouth now."  
 
The boy's right hand placed the poo in my mouth. The poo 
was moist and parts of it felt furry against my tongue. 
The poo was made up of balls and I had to chew on these 
balls to mash them into smaller pieces for ingestion. The 
thought of eating the little boy's poo hardened my cock 
significanty. I brought the little boy down further till 
my 5- or 6-inch cock was fully inside the little boy's 
anal hole.  
 
I started humping the boy's butt, the poo on my penis 
acting as lubricant, creating squishing sounds as my cock 
pumped in and out. My humping hips bounced the little 
boy's bottom on my lap. I was bouncing his butt up and 
down on my lap like a tennis ball bounding on a tennis 
raquet. The little boy started crying. As my penis 
started to more powerfully pump through his ass, he 
started screaming, but as he did so I brought my poo-
stained right hand towards the back of the boy's head, 
grabbing his hair. I then pulled his face towards my face 
and forced him to kiss me, forced his mouth against my 
poo-filled mouth.  
 
My penis came in and out of the boy's anus, bouncing him 
on my lap, and at the same time my tongue and throat was 
pushing all the poo in my mouth into the little boy's 
mouth, who was trying to push the poo back into my mouth 
as well. The poo swirled and mixed around in both our 
mouthes. I looked into the little boy's eyes when he 
opened them. His pupils were large. His eye had a look of 
fear. They were moist and teardrops fell down his cheeks, 
some of it landing on my face.  
 
The poo in his mouth was too much for the boy and he 
started vomiting. His mouth briefly separated from mine 
and some runny orange liquid fell out along with some poo 
drops. I didn't want to waste anything though, so I 
pulled the boy's head closer to mine and sealed in the 
poo and vomit, mixing both the poo and vomit together 
with my tongue, teeth, and cheek muscles. The mixing made 
the resultant solution runnier. The dry pungentness of 
the poo was mixed with the sweet tanginess of the vomit, 
which made the resultant solution tastier as well.  
 
The little boy didn't like the poo, and so with his hands 
he grabbed my face and started pushing at it, hoping to 
separate my mouth from his. His right hand was stained 
with poo, which smeared all over my face. He was about to 
poke my eyes with his poo-stained fingers, but I 
increased the speed at which my penis pumped in and out 
from his anal hole. As I increased the force and power of 
the pumping, the little boy's body started shaking so 
violently that his hands started flailing at his sides. 
He couldn't keep a firm grip on my face with his hands. 
His whole body was jerked around as my penis came in and 
out. He shook like a bucket of paint being mixed by a 
mixing machine. With the renewed pain in the little boy, 
I saw a fresh burst of tears coming from the kid's eyes 
as his body bounced up and down roughly. His muffled 
screamed filled the poo mixture in our mouths with hot 
air and bubbled. I started cumming, filling his ass with 
my sperm. As I came, I needed to exhale at a rapid rate, 
and couldn't do it with my nose, so I released my mouth 
from the little boy's mouth and shouted out at I kept 
cumming. The poo and vomit in my mouth shot out all over 
the boy's face. Tom spat out the poo and vomit on my 
chest. The mixture ran down my body towards my penis. I 
kept pumping my penis as the little boy tumbled on me in 
pain.  
 
As my orgasm subsided, I sat still with my penis inside 
the little boy's ass. Tom was slouched against me, his 
face resting against my face, his chest resting against 
my chest. He was quietly sobbing. I could feel the little 
boy's heartbeat against mine. I felt his body, felt his 
warmth. As he cried I put my arms around his back and 
hugged him. With my left hand, which was relatively 
clean, I wiped some of the poo away from the boy's face.  
 
I spoke. "I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't know I was going to do 
that. I promise I'll pay you lots more money."  
 
Now that my sex drive had died down, I started to regret 
hurting the boy, and I looked around at all the poo 
everywhere and started to wonder why on earth I did such 
a thing. The taste of poo in my mouth almost made me 
vomit now. I kept looking at Tom, the beautiful little 
boy, and the thought that it was his poo in my mouth made 
me happier about all the poo in my mouth.  
 
I flushed the toilet till the toilet water was clean, and 
using this toilet water I cleaned both myself and the 
little boy with my socks. When we were both clean, I 
flushed the poo-stained socks down the toilet and dressed 
up both myself and the little boy. I took out my wallet 
and gave the boy everything I had, 2000 dollars.  
 
"Here's your money," I said. "Don't tell anyone about 
what happened, okay? I could get in big trouble. Do you 
want me to get in trouble?"  
 
The little boy shook his head. "No." He took the money 
from my hands.  
 
I asked the kid if he could get home from here by 
himself. He said he could. As he walked home by himself, 
I went back to the train station. As I waited for the 
train, I thought about the day. I might need to go back 
to the city again to pick up the kitten I had ordered. If 
that were the case, I hope I could meet little Tommy 
again. 

THE END
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+