Perverts 'R' Us

How Daddy Trained Me

By Daddyshole ( M/b, rape, inc, oral, anal, bond )

I thought it was time I told the story of how I was trained by my daddy. He really was one of the biggest perverts I've known, to this day. He's 44 now, and I'm 27, but I was only ever permitted to call him "sir" or "daddy," even as I grew to adulthood, so I just got used to that.

My mom took off when I was almost five, leaving me with just him. I didn't understand at the time, but found out years later she'd been cheating on him a while, and finally just took off with the guy.

Over the next month or so, he got less and less interested in wearing pants around the house, so I was constantly confronted by this big thing between his legs whenever he stood in front of me. He's sort of a big guy, back then quite fit. He always had a little bit of a belly, but had powerful shoulders and arms. Not too hairy, but hairy enough to leave no question he was a man.

Gradually he seemed to get hornier, and horny more often, and by the time he started me, I had practically forgotten what his cock looked like soft. It's impressive too, nowadays just thinking about it makes my mouth water. Eight and three-quarter inches of uncut meat (I was made to measure it beforehand on many occasions), somewhat veiny, ridges lining the shaft.

The thing turned out to be a pre-cum factory, as well, and by the time he got to be a full raging pervert, the head of it was pretty much just always drenched in his natural lube. Later he explained to me that adult men's cocks lube themselves up like that so that little boys can get their butts fucked even when they don't want them to be. Whenever I was around him he would purposely stand too close to me, so I always managed to have trails of his dick-leak smeared all over me. More often than not, the crotch of his pants would have a noticeable wet spot where his bulge ended. He never bothered trying to hide it in public, either - in fact he seemed almost proud of it.

So after a couple weeks of him walking around naked below the waist, his cock huge and throbbing more often than not, I guess he just could not resist his little boy anymore. The memories are sort of crystal clear and very hazy all at the same time. He'd been in the kitchen for quite a while. I was watching some TV show. It was totally silent in the kitchen, no movement or anything, and I remember wondering what daddy was up to.

"Ricky," he called to me, "come in here, now." It was a voice I'd never heard before. Very serious, almost like when I was in trouble for something I'd done, but different. I walked to the kitchen and stopped at the door. There he was, leaning up against the kitchen counter on his elbows, legs slightly spread apart, and his cock harder than I'd ever seen it. I swear if you'd smacked it, it wouldn't even have budged.

"Come over here," he says in that creepy voice again. As I slowly trudged over to him, I couldn't get my eyes off that bone, hard as I tried. As I got closer, I watched as it started to drool, a long strand of that juice I'd noticed hung in a string off the end and slowly dripped onto the floor. My eyes were locked on it.

This was also when I got my first smell of it. Daddy kept his cock pretty clean (a duty which quickly became my responsibility), but the head emerging from his generous foreskin in preparation for some nasty pedo incest had a distinctive smell to it. I grew to recognize that smell, in addition to the smell of his pre-cum, all too well. After a while I could smell his cock all the way across the house, warning me of its inevitable approach. I could smell it in his jeans, as I stood next to him in public, indicating I would immediately be dragged back to his truck or into some dirty gas station toilet and stripped naked. For quite a while that smell would cause me to start sobbing hysterically, and a little later turn my little preteen pee-pee as hard as a steel spike, which only made me cry harder. Standing so close to it like that in the kitchen, I couldn't help but notice daddy's smell.

"You like your daddy's big, fat cock, don't you, Ricky?" he says. I just shrugged. I watched it throb with his quick heartbeat as it continued to ooze and drip. It pointed slightly upwards and right at my face standing in front of him, I'm sure the expression on my face was priceless for a pervert like him. "Taste it," he ordered. So staring up at him with wide eyes I stuck out my tongue and got my first taste of that cock sap I would grow to crave like a drug. "No, boy, put it in your mouth. Suck out daddy's juice, it's good for ya."

I don't think I'd ever tried to get anything that big in my little five year-old mouth before, so I had to open up pretty wide. He gasped, "whoa, watch the teeth, boy," he said. The flavor was pungent and salty and sweet. I wasn't sure if I liked it, but I wanted to please my daddy, and I guess I thought it was kind of cool that I was getting this very special treat from this private place on his body.

He went on to instruct me how to drill my tongue into the piss slit, which made the juice flow so much I had to keep swallowing, and to run my tongue all over the head getting every crevice of it. He also showed me how to massage the spot on the underside of the head. It wouldn't have been possible for my young throat to take it, but in practically every other way, I was taught how to please a grown man's cock.

That first lesson didn't last very long, however, he was just way too heated up by the nastiness of it, I assume. At a certain point, I remember feeling his hands on the back of my head as he coached my slobbering toddler mouth on his cock. I could hear him huffing and puffing. Then came the flood, like someone had put a garden hose in my mouth. I lurched back, only to be stopped firmly in the grip of his big hands. I choked and sputtered, swallowed a ton of it, my cheeks puffed out, it sprayed out the corners of my mouth, but it just wouldn't stop squirting into my mouth. I swear, at the time, it felt like fifteen minutes daddy's thing was unloading into my mouth in jet after powerful jet.

If it hadn't been replaced by more, I'm sure I would have still had that taste in my mouth for three days. After the shock of it wore off, my eyes instantly filled with tears and I started bawling. Daddy just caressed my head and kept saying what a very good boy I was, and how I was going to make my daddy the very best little fuck-slut. The first time of thousands I would hear that word. He picked me up and took me with him to the couch.

For the next couple weeks, that became my permanent post, standing in front of daddy. Wherever he went, I had to follow and immediately resume slurping and slobbering on his hard, drooling cock. My mouth got tired and sore, and since I was not yet an avid cocksucker, I started complaining. He didn't like that. For I think it was three days, after some serious whining on my part, I was given no food, only water. The only sustenance I was allowed was daddy milk. So I quickly learned how to drain his bull balls like an expert. I had no choice but to learn, or go hungry.

A good portion of that time I remember he spent on the phone, making arrangements so he could start working from home. He told me when I gotten older that he'd always wanted to molest me, but man, once he started he just dove right in. When I wasn't on cocksucking duty I was practically always getting my little virgin butt fingered open. For hours he would carry me around hooked under his arm, me facing behind him, deeply drilling his fingers in me, twisting them every which way, and prepping my hole for its first adult cock.

The night I will never forget was a week or so later. My wrists were tied to my ankles and I was put on the edge of his bed with my shoulders resting down on it, and my tiny five year-old boy-pussy sticking up, open, exposed, and completely vulnerable. I screamed and cried and begged and frantically fought to get loose. I was deeply and thoroughly lubed and fingered a short time. He grabbed me tightly by the ankles, yanked my legs open as wide as they'd go, and started working his huge knob into my struggling hole.

I never thought anything could feel so big. It actually felt way bigger than it looked. I sobbed uncontrollably, I begged him to stop, struggled uselessly to get away from his huge cherry buster. His constantly flowing pre-cum made my hole so wet and slick there would've been no way for me to keep his cock from prying it open. I screamed at him that it was too big, which was a mistake. "Oh yeah, daddy's cock is WAY too fucking big for your tight li'l cunt," he growled at me. I could feel my entire rectum stretching tight around the thick shaft.

It just seemed to keep sliding deeper and deeper into me, and then he started using quick little jabs to force the rest of it in me. Each jab forced a loud high-pitched squawk out of me, which got a very perverted chuckle and more jabs out of daddy. He leaned over me so I could feel his hairy sweaty stomach muscles on my back, and growled in my ear "you got every inch of daddy's meat in you, boy, and now you're getting fucked."

I was raped pretty much non-stop for what must have been three hours, although I lost all connection with reality. He ground his cock up in me as deeply as he could, I felt it stretching open my poor rectum even bigger and it jerked and spasmed as it unloaded his seed. He then paused for about five minutes. He slowly gyrated his cock around inside me until it was hard again, then continued.

He picked me up off the bed effortlessly to hold me out in the middle of the room. He mercilessly jackhammered my little toddler hole for what seemed like an hour. The drool just hung from my open mouth, my mind unable to comprehend what my own daddy's fat cock was doing to me. I was still tied in this frog-like position so my frantic attempts to keep his cock from going so deep up in me were completely useless. My five year-old boy-pussy was drilled open deeper than I would ever have dreamed possible. Man just typing this out makes my cock hard as a rock and leak like a mother-fucker.

After that night, it was like a switch had been flipped inside his head, and daddy became like a boy-raping machine. I barely have any memories of the next two or three years except being on all fours on the floor in front of him being continuously and cruelly pounded on his big bone-hard daddy-cock. I would blubber and cry harder than you can imagine, but the harder I cried, the rougher I was raped. I would struggle as desperately as I could to get away from him, but he would just grip my waist a little tighter and fuck harder. His powerful hands wrapped almost all the way around my waist, and when he finished with me, I'd have red marks in the shape of them from being gripped so tight.

I almost always had his cum oozing down my legs from my sore little hole. I wasn't allowed to wipe it off, because he said little boys who need raped so much should look and smell like it. I lost all control of my bowel movements, and had to go on a toilet schedule to not make messes around the house. After each trip to the toilet, he would give me a quick enema and re-lube me.

I made the mistake of running from him a few times and hiding. The second time I did, he was furious and all the doors in the house were taken down. Only a few were left near their frames so they could be put back up for guests who might be suspicious. The rest of them he said he was "refinishing," a project that he never really got around to completing. The result was that there was absolutely no escape for me from the constant daddy-rapes, and I'm now grateful there wasn't, because I realize now I had to learn my place.

After several months of it, his constant finger work on my immature prostate paid off, and I started having violent dry anal orgasms during the rapings. His huge cock refused to ever stop rubbing and stroking and pestering the button inside me, and I was forced to dry cums over and over and over again. They would get so frequent and powerful I'd start crying all over again, being far too young to handle the sensations making my whole body seize and convulse. This is also the main reason why the smell of daddy's tool preparing itself for a boy-fuck made my own little dick-let stand straight up in the air and start twitching. That was especially uncomfortable when out in public, although the humiliation of it didn't strike me as much until I was a few years older.