Reaping What You Sow - Part 1: Doing the Crime (t/b, reluc/nc, oral, anal,
ws, scat) by Coproman

   It finally happens when you are 18 years old.  It was born many years
before, probably when you were in junior high school, but it's taken time
to grow, to metastasize, until it becomes the malignancy it is today.

   You've tried to play it off, to pretend it doesn't exist.  After all,
you're a strapping young black man with a healthy sexual appetite.  But
it's persistent.  It keeps coming back.  So you deal with it by buying
illegal videos and pictures, and reading all the stories you can find
on-line, and jacking off to them over and over again.  It's not as
satisfying as the real thing, but at least it keeps you away from
elementary school playgrounds.

   Your girlfriend also helps.  Because she's so petite, whenever you fuck
her it's easy to pretend you're fucking a little girl.  And whenever you
have anal sex, it's easy to pretend you're fucking a little boy.  But
invariably she does or says something to remind you that she is, in fact,
an 18-year-old just like you, and it always kills the mood.  Fortunately
you usually manage to get your rocks off a few times before that happens.

   You're lucky too that your neighborhood has so few families with kids.
Because of that, you don't have to make an extra effort to avoid them.  The
problem is that there is something about you that attracts them to you as
much as it does you to them.  It's as if the first thing they see is the
child in you, and they want to play with that child.  You're pretty sure
that's the way it happened with...him.

   You meet him when he and his mom move into the building next to yours.
It turns out that she and your mom were schoolmates, and your mom is
thrilled that her old friend is now living so close by.  She is separated;
he is the six-year-old product of that failed union.  Like you, he is an
only child.  The first time you meet them, he comes right over to you and
hugs your legs.  His mother is impressed.

   "He's not usually that affectionate with strangers," she says.

   You smile weakly and nod while patting his head.  He makes you nervous
because "that" part of you instantly recognizes the potential in him.  Side
by side you couldn't be more different: He is in first grade; you are in
your first year of college.  He is slightly under four feet tall; you are
slightly under six feet tall.  He is a light-skinned with close-cropped
hair; you are a dark-skinned with a short afro.  Worst of all is the
12-year difference in your ages, which seems insurmountable.  What can a
six-year-old and an 18-year-old possibly have in common?  Your hormones are
raging while his are almost non-existent.  You play football; he plays tag.
You fuck coeds; he thinks girls are "icky." The only thing you really share
is the only-child thing.

   Despite the disparities, you like him and he likes you, and, naturally,
that attraction overrides all of your differences.  But you know the
relationship should not be encouraged.  You understand that even innocent
roughhousing is risky because of what it is likely to lead to.  But he is a
moth and you are a flame, so your destinies have already been determined.

   The journey begins when his mom asks your mom if you are available for
babysitting on Saturdays.  You are her last resort, she tells your mom,
because the regular sitters and daycare centers find him too hard to
manage. You hem and haw.  You know his mom works a 12-hour shift and you
want to keep your weekends free.  But mostly you don't trust yourself being
alone with him.  So you know the best, the safest thing to do is say no. 
But, of course, you don't.  You justify the "yes" by telling yourself that
you can use the money the do-nothing, no-thinking job pays.  You are also
flattered by her "last resort" remark.  And besides, you figure if you just
get together with your girlfriend on Friday nights and/or Sundays, you'll
be able to sidestep the danger you're flirting with.

   Your approach seems to work.  Being with him is like having a little
brother, and the more time you spend with him, the more certain things
about him surprise you.  He's very athletic for his age.  He easily
shimmies up the trees in the park and scares the shit out of you when he
hangs precariously from the upper limbs.  He can also throw a Frisbee like
a motherfucker, and you have to stifle your laughter when he nearly
decapitates a little redheaded girl who strays into the path of the deadly
disc.  In fact he seems to be aggressive in everything he does and with
everyone he encounters.  Except you.  With you he is as docile as a lamb.
You're sure that's why his mother asked you to babysit him.  She knows
he'll do whatever you tell him to.  Unfortunately she's right.

   Things continue to go well for the next three Saturdays, probably
because you've been getting it on hot and heavy with your girlfriend on
Fridays and Sundays.  So your day with him in between has been like your
sexual day off.  And after playing all day in the park, you're both too
tired to get into trouble anyway.  So coming back home for him has been a
matter of eating supper, watching a little TV, playing some video games,
then washing up, putting on his jammies, and falling asleep.  And for you
it's been fixing supper, watching TV and playing video games with him, then
putting him to bed, making a few calls, snacking, and trying to stay awake
until his mom gets home.  You pat yourself on the back for being so "good."

   But the following weekend everything changes.  You have a heated
argument with your girlfriend and she doesn't want to see you.  Then two
minutes after you arrive to babysit, it starts raining cats and dogs, so
you are stuck in the house with him all day.  After several hours--despite
the TV shows, the DVDs, and the computer games--he's so bored that he
starts getting rambunctious on you, something he's never done before.  It's
not long before you're ready to tie him to a chair.  You resolve to look
around for some rope or cord right after you take a leak.  But "that" part
of you is so inventive that it lets you see how your need to go is also the
perfect solution to your problem.

   "Hey, you wanna watch me pee?" you ask him.

   Your words are like a shot of Ritalin.  He immediately calms down and
his eyes light up as he stares at you.

   "Yeah!" he replies, grinning.

   "Then come on."

   You head for the bathroom and he is right on your heels, almost running
into you when you stop to turn on the light.  Lifting the lid and seat of
the toilet, you unzip your jeans, exposing the white cotton of your briefs.
But instead of pulling out your dick, you look at him and smile.

   "Wanna take it it out for me?"

   His eyes get a little bigger and he breathily says "Yeah!" again,
accenting it with a quick nod.

   "Okay.  But be careful."

   You turn toward him and he reaches inside your fly.  He fumbles around,
trying to get his hand inside your underwear.  Eventually he does, and you
moan when you feel his fingers on your semihard cock.  After a bit more
fumbling he manages to pull it through the fly.  He gasps when he gets his
first look at it.

   "Wow!  It's really big!" he says, examining it.

   You decide to show him your whole package, so you reach down and pull
your balls through the fly as well.

   "Ooooooh!" he coos, marveling at them.  He's especially intrigued by the
hairs on them and gently tugs at a few strands before cupping them and
running his hand along your shaft and over your glans.  His touch is so
stimulating that you have to take his hand off your dick to keep it from
getting too hard to piss comfortably.  But as soon as you remove it, "that"
part of you objects.

   "Wanna hold it while I'm going?" you ask him, your own words coming as a
surprise to you.

   This time he just nods, as if he's too excited to speak, and his eyes
seem to get even bigger.  You turn toward the toilet and he gingerly grasps
your penis and aims it at the bowl.

   "Ready?" you ask him.  He nods again.

   You smile and relax your bladder.  Instantly a golden stream spouts out
of your urethra, hitting the rim of the bowl and splashing onto the floor.
He quickly adjusts his aim, sending your pee where it's supposed to go, and
he watches intently as it foams up when it hits the water.  Then he moves
your dick in circles, cooing again at the way the stream bends and twists
as your piss hits different parts of the water.  When your flow finally
begins to dry up, he gently squeezes your cock as if to milk out the last
drops.

   When you're done he starts to move his hand away, but this time you put
yours on top of it to keep it where it is.  Now that you've answered
nature's call, there's no need rein in your libido any longer.  Your dick
instantly begins to harden again, and you smile at his expression of utter
delight as he watches and feels it grow.  Soon it's so big that it outgrows
his grasp.  Two seconds later it stands at its full eight-inch length and
six-inch girth.

   "Wow!!" he gasps, his big brown eyes glued to your weapon.  "I never
seen one get THAT big before!"

   "So you've seen OTHERS get big?" you ask him, picking up on his
phrasing.

   He looks up at you with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and claps
his hand over his mouth.

   "It's okay," you assure him, "you can tell me."

   After hesitating he informs you how once, during a sleepover at his
friend's house, he spied on his friend's older brother through the keyhole
of their bathroom.  It wasn't planned.  He'd gotten up to pee, but when he
went to the bathroom, the door was closed and he'd heard heavy breathing
coming from inside.  So he'd looked through the keyhole and seen his
friend's brother sitting on the toilet pulling on his pecker.  He'd watched
in fascination as it got bigger and bigger and his friend's brother pulled
at it faster and faster until, finally, he moaned and frowned like he was
in pain and began to shiver like he was cold.

   "Then a big drop of white pee came outta his thing," he tells you.

   After that, his friend's brother wiped his cock with some toilet paper,
stood up, and pulled up his pajamas, that last move being a cue to the
six-year-old to retreat to his friend's room.  Only after he heard the
toilet flush and his friend's brother walk back to his own room and close
the door did he venture back to the bathroom to pee.

   "And you never told ANYone you watched him?" you ask.

   "No," he says, shaking his head.  "Not even my friend.  'Cause I thought
I might get in trouble."

   For a hot second you imagine yourself as his friend's older brother.  If
you had spied him looking through the keyhole, you'd have invited him in.
You're sure you'd have saved toilet paper that night by depositing your
load someplace much better.  And after that you might have invited him into
your room to make even more deposits.  But you're glad things didn't happen
that way.  It makes the lesson he's about to learn all the more
exciting...for both teacher and student.

   You sit him on the toilet and stand in front of him.  "Open your mough
and close your eyes, and you will get a big surprise," you sing, "big"
being the operative word.

   Even though he knows exactly what's coming, he smiles and does what you
tell him to do anyway.  You hold the back of his head with one hand, aim
your dick with the other, and inch forward.  The moment your glans touches
his lips, you get harder.  And as your shaft enters his mouth, you begin to
believe that this is where you cock was always meant to be.  You're
surprised when nearly three-quarters of it disappears inside his mouth
before triggering his gag reflex, which causes an explosion of spit all
over your boner.

   "Wow!" you remark as you watch the saliva bubble out from between his
lips and your shaft.  "That feels awesome."

   He looks up at you, but there's too much cock stuffed in his mouth for
you to decipher his expression.  The sight of his pink lips wrapped around
your fat brown shaft, however, is almost humorous.  You avert your gaze and
tell him to close his eyes again.  When he does you hold the back of his
head with both hands and begin to fuck his mouth, slowly at first, pushing
in no farther than about half way.  He grunts every time you spear him, and
you convince yourself that he's doing it because he's a pig boy at heart
and truly enjoys what you're doing to him.

   But he has no idea how demanding "that" part of you can get.  Even you
don't know, since you've never before allowed it the kind of free reign
it's getting today.  So both of you are surprised when you begin to
mouth-fuck him more forcefully, now giving him six inches of dick to
negotiate with every plunge.  Then a switch flips in your brain and,
clutching the back of his head like you're clutching your girlfriend's ass,
you proceed to give him the Full Deep Pussy Treatment, ramming all eight
inches into his mouth.

   You're not angry at him but you act like it, bucking your hips in a
frenzy as you rape his throat.  With every stroke your balls bounce off his
chin and your crotch crashes into his face.  He reacts by continuing to
grunt, but it is more high-pitched now, sounding very much like a barking
seal, only muted.  It is an interesting counterpoint to the sound of the
spit sloshing in his mouth.

   As much as you'd like to fuck his pharynx all day, you can no longer
hold back what's been building up inside you ever since you asked him if he
wanted to watch you take a piss.  Indeed "that" part of you doesn't want to
hold it back any longer since it's never fed semen to a six-year-old before
and is eager to see how it feels to dump it down his throat.

   "I'm gonna come!" you tell him, still furiously humping his head.  "Get
ready for it!"

   You figure he understands that "it" is the "white pee" and that he needs
to prepare to drink it.  But you also know that he probably thinks it will
be no more than the "big drop" that spurted out of his friend's brother's
dick.  You can't wait to surprise him.

   Yelping and flinching, you thrust your hips forward while pulling hard
on the back of his head, crushing his face against your stomach.  Your dick
is so far down his throat you swear you can feel his tonsils.  The warm,
wet, tight sensation is incredible, similar to the feeling of being fully
ensheathed in your girlfriend's cunt, only better.  And the feeling of his
nose pressing into your pubic hair is just as intense.

   "Take it!" you yell at him, trembling.  "Swallow my load, you little
pussy!"

   You come like you've never come before.  You shoot so much sperm down
his throat that he can't handle it and begins to choke.  He tries to pull
away from you, but you have a solid hold on his head and he can't move. 
You listen to his muffled squeals and watch tears seep out of his eyes and
"white pee" spurt out of his nostrils as he fights for breath.  He is in
all kinds of distress, but you are unmoved by it and refuse to let him go
until you've completely emptied your balls down his throat.  Once you do,
you ease back, allowing the knob of your dick to pop out of his esophagus.
He gasps and slumps forward, spitting up a big wad of saliva and sperm,
which plops onto the tiled floor, and coughing as air begins to fill his
lungs again.

   You look down at him, grumbling, "You should've swallowed it like I told
you."

   "But I tried..." he gasps.

   "That's not good enough." You stuff your shrinking dick back in your
jeans and zip up.  "Now wipe your face and come on."

   You walk out of the bathroom and again, much to your surprise, he is
right behind you, sniffling and snuffling as he dabs at his face with a
small piece of toilet paper.  It's as though "that" part of you has
hynotized him.  This little boy has even more potential than you realized.
You begin to wonder if there is anything he won't do for you.

   You decide that the next crime scene should be his own room.  He follows
you in there, and you tell him to sit on his bed.

   "Take off your clothes," you say.

   "But I don't wanna go to bed yet," he protests.  "It's too early."

   "Who said anything about going to bed?  Did I tell you put on your PJs?"

   "...no."

   "Then just do what I said.  Take off your clothes...then lay down...face
up."

   He eyes you suspiciously then gives you a little smile.  He's figured
out that this is a continuation of the bathroom game and seems eager to
play, hurriedly stripping off his clothes and getting into position on the
bed.  You find it hard to believe he's ready for more, being that he nearly
choked to death on your cock, but his little three-inch erection tells you
he is.

   "Close your eyes," you tell him.

   When he does, you undress, climb on top of him in a 69, and inch back
until your ass is poised over his head.  Then you sit on his face.  You are
surprised when he doesn't try to push you off.  In fact he doesn't even
turn his head.  You can feel the bridge of his nose in the crack of your
ass and his hot breath on your anus.  You lift up a little and fart in his
face, making him groan.

   "Smell it," you tell him.

   He surprises you again when you hear him sniffing, filling his lungs
with the putrid odor.  It excites you to have him breathing in your funky
fumes, and it thrills you to know that he wouldn't have done this for
anyone else in the world but you.  You wonder just how far he'll agree to
go before he balks, how far you can push the envelope with him.  You decide
to find out.

   "Lick my asshole," you tell him.

   This time he hesitates.  Even though he is only six, it's not too young
for him to realize how perverted this request is.  But you won't back down.
You figure he just needs a little encouragement.

   "I said, Lick my asshole," you reiterate, sitting on his face a little
harder.

   You smile when you feel the tip of his tongue flicking across your anus.
Your smile widens when the flicking becomes more intense.  Soon he's laving
spit over your entire pucker.  Soon after that he's lapping away at you,
having apparently discovered that the act itself isn't nearly as offensive
as the expression.  You show him how much you appreciate his efforts by
farting in his face again.  He shows you what a good little apprentice he
is by sticking his nose in your asshole and smelling your gas again.

   Your dick is already rehardening.  You inch back and begin to slide it
along his face, smearing him with precum.  You love the feeling of your
balls bumping over his nose, lips, and chin.  Apparently he likes it too
because soon you feel his hands on your ass.  After only a couple of
minutes, your cock is fully erect again.

   You turn around to face him, putting your knees next to his shoulders.
Your erection hovers over him again in all its eight-inch glory.  You stare
down at him, directly into his big brown eyes.

   "You know where I'm gonna put this now, don't you?"

   He doesn't respond verbally, but the look of fear that washes over his
face answers your question loud and clear.

   "Turn over and close your eyes," you tell him.

   To your astonishment he obeys, pressing his face into his pillow.  Even
though he knows what you are going to do to him, he still trusts you enough
to turn his back on you.  He doesn't realize what a big mistake this is. 
He's not mature enough.  And you're not mature enough to tell him. 
Instead, smiling, you get up, stroll down the hall into his mom's bedroom,
and search the drawers of her nightstand until you locate the tube of KY
jelly you were certain you'd find.

   From there you saunter into the kitchen, open the fridge, and a take
couple of swigs from the jug of spring water his mom keeps there.  It
refreshes you, fortifying you for the task to come.  But instead of rushing
back to him, you wait, casually taking another swig of water.  Then you
take a couple of minutes to look around the kitchen.  You're not looking
for or at anything in particular.  You are simply making him wait, knowing
how much it will increase his anxiety.  "That" part of you thinks it's a
good sadistic idea.

   When you finally return to his room, you are pleased to see that he
hasn't moved a muscle.  Sitting next to him, you begin to caress his
behind, moving your hand sensually over the smooth little light-skinned
humps and dipping your middle finger into his narrow ass crack.  Your
actions have the desired effect of relaxing him.  Soon he's moaning and
gently swiveling his hips.  You stop long enough to lubricate your middle
finger with the KY then go back to caressing him.  After another few
seconds you spread his cheeks with the thumb and forefinger of your
unlubricated hand and gently insert your greased fingertip into his anus.

   "Nngh!" he gasps, flinching.  His sphincter grabs your invading finger,
preventing it from advancing any farther.

   "Relax," you tell him, caressing his ass again.  It doesn't take long
for him to open his back door to you, and soon your whole finger is nestled
snugly inside his rectum, which is clutching spasmodically on it.  While
you love it that he's so hot and tight back there, you realize that it's
going to take some work on your part before you can put your dick where
your finger is.

   For the next several minutes you become an amateur proctologist, poking
and probing his anus with one lubed-up finger after another until he is
able to take three twisting fingertips without too much wincing.  You know
that even three fingers aren't enough to match the girth of your cock, to
say nothing of the length.  But all you're concerned about right now is
getting the head in, and you figure you've stretched him open just enough
for that to happen.

   So after giving his asshole a final dose of KY then greasing up your
shaft with it, you mount him.  As you aim your turgid weapon at his tiny
hole, a voice inside you says, This is impossible.  The anus of a
first-grade child is not designed to accommmodate the cock of a horny
college teenager.  You're WAY too big and he's WAY too small for this to
work.  But the idea of forcing a square peg into a round hole appeals so
much to you that you know you won't back off.  "That" part of you won't let
you.  So you nudge your dickhead between his buns until the tapered tip is
pressing against his pucker.  Then you take a deep breath and push.

   Right away you feel his whole body tense up.  "It hurts!" he yelps,
trying to crawl from under you.

   You hear him and don't hear him.  His pain concerns you but not as much
as your pleasure.  So while you feel bad that he's hurting, it doesn't stop
you from holding him down and forcing the entire length of your super-hard
cock into his virgin asshole, skewering him as he lets go with a resounding
squeal.

   You're amazed when, half a minute later, you bottom out in his little
butthole.  Your extensive finger-fuck preparation has worked after all and,
incredibly, your whole pole is now planted firmly in his throbbing rectum.
Its heat and tightness are like nothing you've ever experienced before, and
"that" part of you is shouting, I TOLD YOU SO!  as it sits waving its hat
from the top of Pedo Peak.

   "Damn, that shit feels good," you hear yourself moan.  Suddenly he stops
squirming, as if just knowing how much he's satisfying you is enough to
calm him down.  But you both know it's not just a matter of getting it in.
You both know that his asshole will now have to endure the battering his
throat just barely survived.  And you both know that it won't be over until
his little hole has swallowed a big slimy dose of teen sperm.

   You don't get going right away.  You convince yourself that it is so he
can get used to the feeling of having two-thirds of a foot of dick stuck up
his little ass, but it's really because you want to savor this incredible
feeling.  You feel his body moving up and down with each ragged breath he
takes.  You also feel a rapid pulse at the base of your swollen cock, and
you're amazed that you literally can't figure out whether it's his or
yours. You're also surprised that he hasn't stirred and you haven't heard a
peep out of him.  You fancy that you've discovered the perfect non-medical
cure for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder in kids: Just shove a big
black boner up their little asses and they'll calm right down!  You
fantasize about hiring yourself out to all those frustrated parents. 
("That's right, Mrs.  Smith, just ten doses per day of nigger dick and
little Johnny will be as meek as a kitten.") You'd make enough money in a
week to cover your school tuition for a year!

   But you don't want to waste time daydreaming about butt-to-be when
there's butt-to-be-had right under you.  So you brace yourself and begin to
lift up, slowly withdrawing your ramrod from what has already become its
favorite hiding place.  All that KY you used allows you to pull out rather
easily.  When only the head remains inside him, you stop and look
underneath yourself.  Again you're amazed that you were able to cram so
much cock into so little ass.  After admiring your accomplishment for a
minute, you slowly lower yourself back down, stuffing all that cock right
back up his turd tunnel.  Several seconds later, your balls are again
resting against his butt cheeks and his rectum is again pulsating on your
shaft.  You repeat the process a few times, and you can feel his rectum
slowly expanding to accommodate you.

   He still hasn't said a word.  You interpret his silence as his way of
giving you permission to proceed, so you begin to fuck him, moving at a
steady, measured pace.  Though you've only gotten started, you already know
it's the best ass fuck you've ever had.  But it's not just the amazing
tightness and incredible heat of his anus that make it qualify.  It's who
and what he is, where you are, and the fact that you're doing something
you're not supposed to be doing that make it so good for you.  You begin to
wonder if you'll ever be satisfied fucking your girlfriend again.

   Gradually you speed up your strokes.  Now, along with the mattress
squeaking and the bedframe rattling, you can hear your crotch smacking
against his ass.  You are again amazed that he's taking it all so
passively. Every time you stuff his little shitter, nothing more than a
breathy high-pitched grunt comes out of him.  It's a striking contrast to
the howling and cursing your girlfriend does when you fuck her ass.  It's
just one more thing about him that surprises and impresses you.

   Still, since this is his first time getting porked, you want to keep
things civil (well, anyway, at least as civil as a pedophile can be fucking
a six-year-old boy up the ass).  But it is not to be.  Soon "that" part of
you takes over again and before you know it, you are fucking him with the
same unbridled passion you unleash when fucking your girlfriend.  You slam
into him, riding his pert little ass for all it's worth, ramming your rod
so far up inside him that you half expect to see the head poke out of his
mouth.  Again you wonder how the hell he manages to take it.  But as long
as he does, you don't really care.  He is your sex toy, and you get to play
with him however you want, even if, ultimately, it means destroying him.

   Just like when you were mouth-fucking him, you wish you could continue
to plug his little poop chute all day long.  But your stop is coming up
fast.  The stimulation is just too overwhelming, and you can no longer hold
back.

   "Shit!  Fuck!  I'm coming!  Take it right up that high-yellow ass, you
little bitch!"

   With a final powerful thrust, you bury all eight inches of your dick in
his bowels and begin to tremble.  Your tool swells and throbs as it shoots
spurt after spurt of semen deep in his six-year-old shithole.  The feeling
is so intense that you swear you're going to pass out.  But you don't, and
you're grateful you don't, because only by being fully awake can you bask
in the heady hedonism of climaxing up the ass of a young boy.

   It takes a few minutes for the last ripples of your orgasm to pass
through you.  Only after you've emptied your balls and begin to drift back
down to earth do you realize he's crying, quietly sobbing into his pillow.

   "You okay?" you feel compelled to ask.

   "Uh-huh," he sniffles.

   You want to care, want to feel sorry for putting this little boy through
probably the worst pain he's ever felt in his young life.  But you don't.
In fact, the more you think about how you just flooded his back door with
hundreds of millions of your teenaged sperm, how they're having a wild
party in the basement of his digestive tract, the hornier you get, and the
more your cock begins to reharden inside him.

   "I'm gonna do you again," you say.

   When he doesn't respond, you go right back to pumping his rump, not as
hard this time but just as steadily, once again making sure every inch of
your dick finds its way inside his decimated dunghole with each stroke. 
After several minutes, you shoot a second load of hot sperm in his bowels.
This orgasm is not as intense as the first, but it is even more satisfying,
being that you were able to savor the fucking that led up to it even more.

   Even though you've come twice, you're still so turned on just being
inside him that your teenaged hormones will not quiet down.  You know it
would be pure gluttony to go for Round Three in his tiny tailpipe.  But
"that" part of you tells you that Greed is Good, and before you know it,
your cock is swelling up again and you find yourself humping his hiney a
third time.  It seems to take forever to spurt that third load up his ass,
but you finally do, revelling in the fact that his you've given him a butt
full of baby-makers.

   For the next few minutes you just lie on top of him while his sphincter
contracts spasmodically on your shrinking shaft.  You don't even bother
lifting up to keep him from feeling the full weight of your 165-pound body
on his 50-pound one.  In fact, you're so drained you almost doze off.  Only
when you feel him squirming under you do you snap yourself out of it and
begin to withdraw your overworked cock.  The head exits his hole with an
obscene plop, and you look down at the mess your venture into prepubescent
anal sex has left your penis in.  It is coated with a sticky glaze of
sperm, shit, and KY, and it stinks to high heaven.

   But his asshole is even worse.  It looks like it came out on the losing
end of a 12-round prizefight.  As you examine it, it becomes crystal clear
to you why the laws against young men having sex with young boys are so
harsh.  Once tiny, pink and constricted, his anus is now gaping, red and
puffy, and a combination of sperm and liquified shit is oozing out of it.
You know his sphincter will eventually close up again, but you also know
that his asshole will never be the same, that he will never again be as
tight back there as he was before you fucked him.  You should feel ashamed
of yourself for ruining him for life at such a tender age.  But you don't.
Your only thought is how it will now be even easier to fuck him when you
come back next Saturday.

   Adding insult to injury, you take another look at your soiled dick and
begin to think of something else, something even nastier.  You've only seen
ass-to-mouth done in porno flicks.  You've wanted to experience it
personally, but none of the girls you've cornholed, including your
girlfriend, has ever offered to do it.  And whenever you suggested it, they
all declined.  Their filth meters simply don't register that low.

   "Open your mouth," you tell him.

   Once again he obeys immediately, though you're sure he knows what's
coming.  You're also sure he knows that his asshole isn't very clean and
what he's going to end up eating.  He can probably smell it.  But it
doesn't seem to matter.  His only defense is to keep his eyes closed so he
can't see what you're about to do to him.  "That" part of you wants to tell
him to keep them open so his can witness the oral defilement.  But you
decide to let him hold on to that tiny bit of self-respect.

   As your shitty cock slides into his mouth, he scowls and groans.  His
reaction pleases you.  After all, there's no reason a six-year-old should
actually enjoy having his lips and tongue used as toilet paper.  Licking
your asshole was one thing; being forced to eat his own shit is another. 
So he SHOULD be disgusted.  Naturally, his disgust turns you on.  It's
also, oddly, a kind of insurance.  The nastier you are with him, the less
likely he is to tell on you or to mention any of this to his little
friends, since it will reflect as much on him as it does on you.  Once
you've convinced yourself of the irrefutable logic of this twisted thought,
you no longer feel compelled to hold on to the piss that's once again
filled your bladder.

   "Mmph!  Mmph!" he complains as your pee surges into his mouth.  But your
hands are again firmly planted at the back of his head, so he either has to
drink it or drown.  Fortunately for both of you, he chooses the former,
swallowing the deluge in desperate gulps.  You're surprised to be going
again so soon after the major leak you took to get this whole sexual ball
rolling.  But that spring water you drank before fucking his ass went right
through you.  It doesn't seem to be as refreshing for him as it was for
you, though.  You conclude that it probably lost something in the
recycling.

   As soon as you finish pissing in his mouth, you begin to feel the other
urge.  You wonder if he's submissive enough to pay you the ultimate homage.
"That" part of you, of course, is pushing you to do it, telling you that
the worst he can do is refuse but that he would NEVER refuse you, no matter
what you ask him to do.  You want to believe this, and you're so intrigued
by the idea of doing something so disgusting to a cute little boy that you
quickly convince yourself that what "that" part of you is saying is right
again.  So you pull your dick from between his lips and proceed to squat
over his face.

   "Open your mouth," you say to him for the third time today.

   You can almost hear his heart beating double-time.  He's no dummy.  He
knows good and well what your bulging, blood-filled anus is about to give
birth to.  But when you look down, you are shocked to see that his dink is
hard again.  And when you look at him from between his legs, you are even
more shocked to see that his mouth is wide open!

   You continue to be perplexed by the way this little boy behaves with
you. He could just as easily have kept his mouth closed, locking his jaws
and clamping his teeth together.  If he had, there would have been no way
to force him to open his mouth, and the show would've been over.  So what
is it about you that makes him do something that, even at his age, he
understands to be abnormal and depraved?  And how did "that" part of you
know with such certainty that he would do it?  But you know these are
questions you can't answer, and, really, you should not even be asking at
this time.  You need to perform now and ponder later.

   So, still looking under yourself, you let go, relaxing your insides, and
let nature takes its course.  Within seconds a thick brown log appears from
between your legs, emerging from behind your balls.  It gets longer and
longer, and as it slowly descends, you see that you have positioned
yourself well--you are right on target.  When it's only a few inches above
his face, you draw in your sphincter, pinching it off, and it drops
directly in his mouth.

   "Eat it," you quietly command him.

   He quietly complies, frowning and grunting and groaning as he chows down
on your turd.  It's an incredible sight: His eyes are closed, his mouth is
packed, and his jaws are in constant motion, working overtime to reduce the
horrible mouthful you've fed him into something capable of being consumed.
Just as incredible is the sound, the smacking of his lips and tongue as
your shit and his saliva mix together into a lumpy paste.  It take three
swallows for him to gulp it all down, after which he begins to pant with
his mouth wide open again.

   You turn around and stare down his throat.  His mouth is empty and his
tongue is brown.  You work up a big loogie, spit it in his mouth, and watch
his face squinch up as he swallows it.  You smile and say, "I'm gonna
finish going now.  Make sure you eat it all, okay?"

   With his eyes still squeezed shut, he nods and opens his mouth again. 
You turn around, re-settle your ass over his face, and drop another smelly
brown bomb straight down the hatch.  Again he chews it up and swallows it.
Just watching him eat another big mouthful of your shit is more than enough
to give you another boner.  This time you get your rocks off by turning
around, leaning over his head, and jacking off.  He squints and flinches
when your spunk splashes all over his face.

   Only now are you satiated.  Fortunately it coincides with his bedtime.
So you bathe him, making sure to wash away all evidence of your perverse
encounter.  This includes having him brush his teeth and gargle.  When he's
nice and clean, you towel him off and send him back in his room to put on
him pajamas, admiring the way his little light-skinned butt jiggles as he
scurries out of the bathroom.

   You wait a couple of minutes before following him into his room.  By the
time you get there, he is already wearing his pajamas and is buttoning the
last of the buttons on the oversized top.  Before tucking him in, though,
you want to see what kind of shape his asshole is in.  You tell him to turn
around and bend over beside his bed.  He does, laying his elbows on the
mattress, and you tug his PJs down just enough to expose the butt you just
got through ogling.  Gently grasping his buns, you spread them apart to
uncover his asshole.  You are concerned that it is still leaking sperm. 
You tell him to take them off and help him into the pair tighty-whiteys he
took off earlier.  Then you help him back into his pajama bottoms.  Now the
briefs will catch whatever come that happens to drool out of his bowels. 
You instruct him to take the briefs off in the morning and hide them until
you see him again next Saturday.  You hope he hasn't been so traumatized by
everything he's experienced today that he forgets what you tell him.

   By the time his mom gets home, he is fast asleep.  After all, it has
been a long and exhausting day for him.  The two of you check in on him
together.  He looks angelic as he lies there snoozing with a devilish
combination of shit, piss, and come churning in his tummy.  When she asks
you what the two of you did all day in all the bad weather, you smile and
tell her she'd be surprised to know how many indoor activities a couple of
guys can find to do on a rainy Saturday.  She smiles at you, compliments
you on being so resourceful, and tells you how she just KNEW you were the
right babysitter for her son (!)

   *****************************************

   The following Saturday, and the next one, and the one after that, you
not only repeat the acts you performed on him that first time, you go
further with each one.  Because it's sunny on those days, you don't get to
do every single thing every single time since you need to leave time for
playing in the park, which you both enjoy.  But over the weeks, you do
enough to keep him on course to becoming a full-fledged Boy Whore and
certified Sex Toy.

   Before you know it, three months have gone by.  His seventh birthday is
right around the corner.  You're already making plans for it.  Though it
falls on a Thursday, you will celebrate it when you see him the following
Saturday.  You're especially anticipating how he will react to the sperm
frosting on the cupcake you're going to give him.

   But just two weeks before the big day, all your plans go right down the
toilet.  His mother and father have reconciled, and she's moving across the
country to live with him.  The news devastates you.  Since breaking up with
your girlfriend a while ago, he has been your sole source for sex.  You
can't even imagine finding another boy as submissive as he is, and
certainly not one who will provide you with as much perverted pleasure.  He
seems sad too, but you can tell it comes in a distant second to the
excitement he feels about his mom, his dad, and him getting back together
as a family.

   There's just one more babysitting session before he leaves.  You try to
make the most of it by crossing the park off your list of activities and
spending all day fucking his mouth and ass and using him as a human toilet.
Through it all, he remains as passive as can be.  After putting him to bed,
you sit next to him and tell him how much you'll miss him.  He doesn't
respond.  He just stares at you with a strange look on his face, as if he's
trying to figure you out.  Then he smiles a crooked little smile and turns
away from you.  Two minutes laters he's asleep.

   The following Saturday, you watch as he, his mom, and his dad drive off
behind a huge moving van.  From his child's seat in the back, he turns and
waves to you through the rear window, giving you another crooked smile. 
You wonder what that smile means, what's going through his young brain when
he looks at you.  You'll probably never get the chance to find out.  While
this bothers you, you decide that whatever he's thinking doesn't matter. 
What's more important is what YOU'RE thinking: that you're losing your boy
toy forever.  You are already mourning the loss.  At the same time, though,
you realize how fortunate you are to have met him and spent as much time as
you did with him.  You also feel lucky that he kept his mouth shut, so you
got to molest him without suffering any consequences.




   Send comments to: Coproman69@hotmail.com 
