What’s Wrong With Me? – 2
The Journey Continues!!!
I hesitated a moment, relishing in the boy’s terror and just staring at him, doing all I could to prevent the tingling sensation between my legs. Once I was back in control, I let-out a loud whistle. The dog’s stopped barking immediately and the kid looked over his shoulder just in time to see the three big, black beasts glide from between the trees and lay down right where the sandy beach started. Then he looked back at me and took a shuddering, deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him.
“Come Here!” I said with a calm-but-angry tone of voice, knowing full-well that these were the first words I’d spoken to him since ordering him to take-off his underwear. He didn’t move. I lowered my volume just a bit and put a bit more venom in my tone, “You fucking, little piece of shit, don’t make me repeat myself and get your little ass over here right fucking now!” To add to my point, I snapped my finger and pointed to the ground in front of me. At the same moment, one of the dogs growled menacingly. The boy started crying even harder, but began slowly moving toward me.
Too slowly. “I said now!” I hissed, much softer and with as much force as I could muster. His pace quickened and within a few seconds, he stood, his whole body trembling, a couple feet from me. His whole body was slumped over, his head hanging and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew that his eyes were closed. Otherwise he’d be looking right at my throbbing cock, which I figured would be too much for him. I discovered I was correct, when I hissed and told him to look at me, as his face came into my view, he was unclenching his eyes.
“I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with a piece of shit like you,” I said softly and without all the venom. I could see my words hit him like I’d slapped him across the face. I knew that there were many memories rolling through his adorable little head, being called a little piece of shit and worse. I knew the exact things to say to the boy to get to him. “Look at you! Your disgusting! Covered in dirt and grime and stinking to high-hell!” I could tell that he wanted to look away from me, but was too scared to do so. So I upped the ante a bit, lowering my voice and lacing it with venom again, I said, “And you’re going to pay dearly for trying to run away from me, you worthless, fucking faggot!”
That did it. I watched as even more tears flooded his eyes and his sobbing became out-and-out baby-like bawling. And he looked away from me.
With his eyes so full of tears, even when he looked down he didn’t see my hand coming at him. I slapped his face so hard that he lost his balance and almost fell-over. He let out a piercing scream and both of his hands went to the spot on his face where I hit him.
“I never told you to look away from me,” I said firmly, as his puffy welled-up eyes turned back to me. I don’t know if I’d go as far to say that his eyes were still full of fear. His expression showed more pain and confusion, than fright. “Now get in the fucking lake and clean all that shit off your body, then I’ll decide what I’m going to do to punish you for running.” He hesitated. “Now!” I barked.
He was in the lake in a flash and I gave him instructions as he cleaned himself. “Get all that sand out of your armpits,” or “I still see sand stuck to that pitiful piece you call a dick,” or, “Now make sure that there isn’t one fucking grain of sand left in the crack of your ass.” Once all the dirt was gone, I had him stand in knee-deep water as I inspected him. I touched him a bit, though not as much as I’d have really liked to. I had him raise his arms to make sure he’d cleaned his pits well enough, lifted his balls and dick to check underneath them for any remaining sand and I even retracted his foreskin, which made him squeal, only to see that the head of his dick was still covered with sand.
“You missed a spot, you fucking little piece of shit faggot!” I gave his dick a hard squeeze and grinded the sand against his sensitive dick-head. He cried out. “I’m going to have to fucking punish you for this too, you little fucker.!” Then I took a deep breath and released his dick from my grip. “Now clean that little baby-dick off and if there’s even one fucking grain of sand left on it, I’ll throw you to my dogs and let them rip your fucking puny body limb from limb!”
The boy quickly dipped down in the water and his hands began to look like he was masturbating, although I knew better. At that moment, jacking-off was the furthest thing from his mind. As he finished the job of cleaning himself, I strode over the beach a bit to a gravely spot supporting a big, flat rock. Still knee-deep, he looked at me when he was satisfied that he’d removed every last grain of sand clinging to his body.
“Come here!” I ordered. He moved more quickly than before. Of this, I was glad. I could barely stand it any more. When he reached me, I examined his whole body once again, finding a few bits of sand in his thick dark hair, which I told him about, along with the promise of more punishment as a result. But I decided against sending him back into the lake to remove them. Like I said, I could barely stand it any more. Then I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him so that is back was to the rock, then pushed him down as I commanded, “Sit your worthless ass down and get ready for your first punishment!” He went down under more of my force than of his own volition.
I’d chosen the spot perfectly. His face was at the same level as my crotch and his bulging, weeping eyes got another close-up look at my angry cock. I heard him whimper, “No…” a second before I told him what I expected him to do.
“Open your fucking mouth and suck my cock you nasty, little faggot!”
His body shook more, but his mouth remained closed. I smacked his head hard with my hand and repeated my command with a softer yet angrier tone. “I fucking told you to open-up and start sucking, you worthless little asshole!” Though, before I gave him the chance to open his mouth on his own, my hand was once again on the back of his head and I grabbed a fist-full of his damp hair and pulled. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound was muffled by my cock. I couldn’t take it a second longer. If I hadn’t shoved my cock into the boy’s mouth, I’d have wasted my load, spurted it all over the beach. That wouldn’t do, not when I had a beautiful naked boy, feeling lower than he ever had in his ‘life’, more scared than he’d ever known feeling, just as I’d programmed him to be. And he was mine for the taking. Which is exactly what I did. What I had to do. I shoved my cock into the beautiful boy’s hot mouth and let out an animalistic howl. Mere seconds passed before I felt the muscles of my core begin to flex. I shoved myself into his mouth only a few times before I started to erupt. I pushed my myself deep inside him, feeling the tight muscles of his throat trying to expand to accommodate my cock. The first spurt of my cum greased the tight passage and a second later, I had my whole cock in his mouth. I could feel his nose pressing against my hair-covered pubic bone and his slightly-pointed chin prodding my balls. I shot two wads of cum right down the boy’s gullet. I felt his throat contract with each spurt and each registered on his strained and stretched face. Then I pulled my cock out a bit, knowing he’d need to get a breath and wanting to make sure he got a good taste of my cum. And the whole time I was shooting, I howled and told the boy to, “Swallow my cum, you fucking faggot!,” or, “Eat my fucking load, little piece of shit!” That his whole body was quaking, agitating, as he tried to fight me off and that there were tears flowing from his clenched eyes only made me shoot harder. As did the knowledge that my Chachi/Lost-boy prime hybrid had dreamed about this exact scenario. Dreams that had been an amalgamation between wet-dreams and nightmares. As I filled the boy’s mouth with my cum, I knew he was thinking about all the sermons, lectures and comments I’d filled his memories with, about the evils of what I was doing to him. I also knew that the Chachi part of him would be repulsed by what was happening to him. By the short amount of footage I saw of the character, if there was one thing I’d say about him, it would be that he was completely girl-crazy. He was so hot for that blue-eyed girl that I suspected Chachi never once even thought about having another guy’s cock in his mouth.
The realism of the simulation was so accurate that I almost did forget that the beautiful, tortured boy in his early-teens was nothing more than an image projected into my mind by a computer. Although, looking down at his face, seeing my cock filling his mouth, hearing his gags and gulps, smelling the potent odor of his sweat and, piss… I tugged his head a bit, still keeping my cock lodged firmly inside his mouth, to give myself a better view down his body. I couldn’t believe it. The boy’s dick was quite a bit longer than I’d seen it before and it was spraying a crystalline stream of yellowish piss all over both our naked bodies. I shoved my cock deep again and the next wad of cum that erupteded into the boy was almost as big as the first few and like those first few, I shot it right down his throat, directly into his stomach. And I surely popped-out a few more wads than I would have, had I not realized the boy was pissing himself. That was when, with all my senses focused on the load I was dumping into the boy, I all-but forgot that he wasn’t a real boy. My orgasm was so incredibly intense, nothing else mattered to me.
Then I felt the boy’s body go slack. The contractions his throat muscles made around my cock ceased. He stopped beating my thighs and torso with his stringy arms. And suddenly I felt as though I were supporting his whole weight with the hand I had wrapped in his thick, dark hair at the back of his head. As the last few wads of cum dribbled from my still-mostly-hard cock, I realized what was happening.
The boy had passed-out. I’d asked the simulator for full realism and that’s what I got. Once my orgasm subsided and I came back to my senses, I adjusted my thought-pattern and addressed the simulator. It was as I’d thought. The boy couldn’t keep up with the amount of semen I was flooding his oral cavity with. I’d plugged-up his airway with my cum and with the tremendous effort he was expending trying to fight me off, his body quickly depleted its supply of oxygen. If he’d actually been a real person, I’d have had to start crisis-assistance immediately. Cleared his air-passage and given mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to save his life. With this boy, however, all I had to do was address the simulator with a thought and suddenly the boy was animated once again.
He coughed and sputtered. Globs of gooey white sprayed from his mouth, pelting my lower abdomen and groin. I still had him by the back of his head and his coughs caused his hair to be pulled harshly. Amid his gags, he was also sobbing. I had him right where I wanted him. He was a broken boy.
When his breath was almost back to normal, I released my hold on his hair and he slumped back on the large, flat boulder. Once again, his body was covered in grime, only this time his sweat and tears were mixed with my cum and his own piss, as well as a bit of blood that had oozed from the scratches he’d received during his brief run through the forest. A few of the pink splotches on his body, where he’d banged against trees or other obstacles during his vain attempt to escape from me, were turning dark, becoming true bruises. His body was trembling slightly with his soft sobs and his labored breaths and I thought he was more beautiful than ever.
It was time to change tactics and start the second phase of my session.
I started by telling him how beautiful I thought he was and how incredible he’d made me feel. “No one’s ever sucked my cock like that before. You gave me the most incredible blow-job I ever had.” I kept cooing to him, praising him on every level I could think of. And I waited. I waited for him to open his eyes and look at me. He was flat on his back on the rock and I was standing over him. When he finally did dare to open his eyes, I gave him a couple seconds to look at me. I was still naked, still mostly-erect and still breathing a bit heavily and staring right at him.
There was still fear in his eyes, which increased a bit when his eyes took-in my dripping, throbbing hard cock. “You’re the most beautiful creature in the whole fucking galaxy,” I said after a moment, then I descended upon him. His eyes became even wider as I got closer to him and they closed completely just before my lips touched his. I kissed him softly, tasting the mixture of cum, sweat and tears on his lips. I gently prodded my tongue between his lips and I could feel his reluctance, but he did open his mouth a bit to let me in. The taste of my cum was stronger inside his mouth and my almost-hard cock snapped to full rigidity. At that moment, I knew that my second orgasm would be even more mind-blowing than my first.
I left his mouth and started licking his face. Between licks I told him how amazing I thought he was, how beautiful and how hot he made me. As I licked his tears, sweat and my cum from his face, I made sure to feed some of it to him off my tongue. For most of the time, the boy kept his eyes shut, except for when I did something new like stick my tongue into his ear, or up one of his nostrils. And every time I shoved my tongue into his mouth, covered in whatever I’d just licked off his face, his eyes would clench tighter and his whole face would scrunch-up. It was a well educated guess that at that moment, the boy was being bombarded by a barrage of emotions. I knew that he was repulsed by what I was depositing in his mouth. Hell, I knew that a lot of what I’d done to him had repulsed him, or at the very least, scared him senseless. I also knew that somewhere deep down in the boys memories, he remembered masturbating, while fantasizing of being taken by a man. The boy knew that those were his best orgasms, when he dreamed of males, rather than females. And everyone in his life had always maintained how wrong, dangerous and evil it was. And with his mid-twentieth century, incurably heterosexual personality thanks to Chachi, well, I knew that I was truly torturing the boy. And I wasn’t even close to being finished with him yet.
I started licking down his neck and across his bony shoulders. Each taste of him made my blood boil just a bit hotter. I wondered if I’d be able to make it all the way down to his long, skinny toes before erupting. That was my plan. Start at his head, lick and kiss and nibble my way down his body, bypassing his dick to save the best for last. Then my plan was to turn him over and work my way back up his body, backside-up (bypassing his butt, which I would get to right before flipping him back over and sucking his dick until it erupts in my mouth).
With my face buried in one of the boy’s armpits, digging my tongue through the light dusting of dark hairs, snorting and tasting his fresh, young, potent sweat, I did have to stop a moment, calm down a bit, before continuing on my journey. And after I’d kissed him hard and deep, making him snort through his nose and surely smelling his pit-odor on my face as well as tasting it on my tongue, I pulled from his face and buried mine back in his underarm. When I’d cleaned every molecule of the boy’s sweat from that armpit and the few, soft, dark hairs were plastered to his skin with my saliva, I moved over and down a touch. His upper chest and nipples were my next target.
But when I started to lick the hairless skin covering the flat bone between his ribs, I got my first taste of his piss.
“That’s right,” I said in a pleasant tone, lifting my face from his narrow chest and looking him in the eyes. They were open slightly, curious, I suppose, as to what was right. “Until I just got a taste of it,” I continued, still sounding nice and sweet, “I’d completely forgotten that you pissed all over yourself, while you were choking on my baby-juice.” I chuckled. I knew the euphemism for the disgusting stuff that came out of a man’s dick, was that which his mother always used when she was drunk enough to speak of such things. His eyes opened wider and I saw more angst in them. This session was starting out almost as well as my last one had.
“Drinking my cum was your punishment for looking away from me while I was talking to you,” I kept my voice pleasant and just as I reminded him of why I’d punished him, he started to look away from me. But then he froze and his dark, scared eyes focused even more on mine. “And I still have to punish you for not cleaning all the sand from your pitiful, little dick. And also for trying to run away from me.” Then, sounding even happier than before I added, “That’s going to be a bad one. Real bad. It was wrong of you to have tried to run.” I smiled brightly and shook my head back and forth slowly. “And I can’t let something so heinous as pissing all over yourself go without some sort of penalty,” I continued softly, as though speaking to myself. “I think you’re going to have to taste my piss for that.” I could see his chaotic emotions running through his expression. Then I moved back down and started licking the boy’s smooth chest.
He let out a surprised moan when I first latched on to one of his tiny nipples. And as I stimulated the tiny nub, I saw his dick move, which made me amp-up my attack on his little tit. It didn’t take long for the boy to stop trying to suppress his moans, groans. His noises only spurred me on more. As I switched from his first nipple to the second, I saw that his dick had grown at least an inch longer and had become almost twice as big-around. I spent just as long on his second little nip as I’d done on the first, relishing in his sounds, scents, the feel of his tiny, dark pebbles in my mouth and the feel of his withering body below me. When I’d finished, his dick was hard as a bone and much bigger than I’d expected. I could see the very tip of his dick-head in the tiny hole stretched in his foreskin. I hoped for the restraint to be able to complete my mission as planned. As hot as I was feeling, I really had to wonder.
It took everything I had not to touch the big dick bobbing over his tight, concave belly. Or touch my cock as I licked the mixture of grime from his torso. Every minute or so, I’d move back up to his mouth and share the incredible tastes with him. Eventually, his sickened expressions subsided as I fed him the tastes from his body. I’d spend a bit of time staring him in the eye once I’d fed him all I had on my tongue. I had a feeling that he was fighting himself to look away from me, though he never did. And at times, the boy actually looked like he was enjoying what I was doing to him. Somehow I managed to lick, nibble and kiss my way over the sharp, protruding ridges of his hips, without getting any closer than an inch away from his impressive dick. Do you have any idea how difficult that was for me. I’d blown a huge, fucking wad maybe half an hour earlier and I knew that if I’d wanted to, my second eruption could have been spurted within a minute. Though, that isn’t what I wanted, nor did I want to let the boy feel my touch on his dick just yet.
His legs were long and lean, with a small amount of dark down growing on the lower halves. The taste of his piss was stronger here than on his torso. After I shoved my tongue in his mouth, full of his own taste, asked in the pleasant voice, staring down at his deep, dark eyes, “Can you taste your own piss?” The boy’s eyes got wide and I saw fear come back to his face. I got a look in my eye, a look I knew he’d see as threatening and he started nodding his head. “Tell me,” I said.
“I can taste my pee,” he mumbled softly, tears welling in his eyes.
I let my expression soften and touched his face with my fingertips. “Tell me,” I asked sweetly, “why did you piss all over yourself?”
His dark eyes opened even wider and he looked confused. I began to wonder if, other than me telling him he had, he’d known that he’d emptied his bladder. He shook his head, not knowing what to say.
“What were you doing when you pissed yourself?”
“Choking,” the boy uttered softly, as his tears reached the point of overflowing and began the trek down his angular face.
“What were you choking on?”
Again, his eyes flashed and his face contorted. He was at a loss for words.
“Do I need to ask twice?” I said with a bit of anger behind my words.
“No,” he responded quickly, “I was choking on, on…” There was a throb of hot blood to my cock as I peered down at the beautiful boy and watched him struggle to say what he needed. “…On your, your, dick and your stuff,” he finally said.
“What stuff?” I was still smiling and using the saccharine tone, managing to look a bit inquisitive.
“Your…” I knew his mind was whirring. He was searching his memories for the polite word for the stuff he’d been choking on. I knew it was a memory he would not find. The only words I had the simulator program into the boy’s memory were idioms. He knew all the bad words for my stuff, but not one proper or polite word for it. Finally he said, “Your dick-stuff,” and I could see the hope in his eyes that I’d find his words acceptable.
I didn’t change my expression or tone, but said to him, “It’s called cum, baby-juice, spunk, jizm… You’ve heard those words before, haven’t you?”
“So,” I suddenly took on an adverse posture and tone, “I’m going to ask you one more fucking time, what were you choking on when you went and pissed all over the fucking place?”
There was another flash across his face and in the second it took him to start his oratory, his eyes flashed to my hand, which left his adorably tortured face and raised, ready to hit.
“It was your cum,” he ejaculated, “your spunk, your jizm,” he took a deep breath then with a tone almost sounding confident, he finished, “I was choking on your dick and your fuck-juice when I peed.”
I was getting into it and didn’t want to let it go just quite yet. I made myself look and sound even more angry and hissed, “You little faggot!” He cringed and made a quick attempt to look away from me, though he stopped himself with a quick glance at my raised and ready hand. Then I quickly stood tall and looked from the boy’s face to my cock. “Does this look like a dick to you?” I said softly but harshly. Before he had a chance to answer, I saved him the trouble. “Do I have a fucking worthless, little baby-dick like you?” He was staring at my raging cock and moved his head back and forth slowly, doing all he could to answer me. “Tell me what you were choking on, you little cunt,” and for the first time, I raised my voice. “Tell Me!” I yelled.
“Cock,” he said quickly, “cock and cum. Your cock. Your cum. I choked on your cock and cum.”
I softened once more and slowly lowered my fingertips back to his face. “Good boy,” I cooed and kissed him tenderly for a moment, before returning to my mission and started licking the boy’s ankles. Although, as I passed by his crotch, I mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, “There’s a worthless little baby-dick.” Then added a balls-out lie, “It’s so disgusting I don’t even want to touch it.” It throbbed and, as I turned my face away from his, I grinned.
I had to wipe the sand off his feet before I started licking them and sucking on his toes. Like his nipples (and inner thighs) he moaned and gasped when I cleaned his grubby feet. The bottoms of his feet were the only taste on his body I didn’t care for. He’d run through too much dirt and stuff and even after wiping them as best as I could with my dry hand, they still just tasted dirty. However, I forced myself to keep at it, feeling a bit of a surge in knowing that I was doing something I found rather repulsive and knowing that once I’d licked, nibbled and kissed every single inch of his body, I’d get my reward.
His dick had gone soft while I was berating him into saying words he knew he shouldn’t say, but by the time I finished sucking his first five toes, it was bone hard again. As I switched feet, I also noticed that a small pool of precum had dribbled from his tightly-hooded dick. I looked down at my own erection to see the same basic substance oozing from me. So when I finished wiping the gross grime from his second foot off my tongue onto his, with his eyes intently following my every move, I reached down to my own cock and wiped a finger across it’s head, scooping-up a big glob of precum. Then I moved my finger to his mouth, which he closed quickly when he realized its destination. I let out a soft and quick, but deep and rumbling growl. The boy opened his mouth instantly and he started sucking on my finger as soon as it was pass his lips.
As I was sucking on his second set of toes and running a finger over the soul of that foot, the boy actually started to giggle. I had to take a couple deep breaths to prevent myself from getting too worked-up, stinky-foot-scented breaths. When I’d given both of his feet a proper tongue-bath, I gave him one more deep, yet tender kiss. Then I told him to turn over so that he was laying on his belly. His body shook as he complied. I moved my mouth from his heels, up both legs one at a time, then bypassing his butt, I started to taste the skin of his lower back, though I did allow myself to take a few deep whiffs of air just above the crack in his small, firm butt-cheeks. I had to restrain myself from diving right into the boy’s sweaty crack.
I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I’d gotten half-way up his back. Since I’d been creeping up his backside from his feet, my body was hovering over his, in a push-up-like position. As I started digging my tongue into the cleft between his shoulder-blades I felt my cock bounce against his lower-leg. I almost lost it. I made short-work of his upper-back and shoulders, making sure to keep my hips high to prevent my cock from touching him again. However, as I was nuzzling the back of his neck, at the point where his pale skin gave-way to his dark hairline, I could resist no more and let my whole body settle on top of his.
“You are so fucking hot,” I hissed into his ear. I felt his body shudder under me and as a result the shaft of my cock, which had been resting at the very top of his butt-crack, sank in just a bit. “Can you feel my cock on your butt?” I asked softly, pressing my hips just a bit tighter against his backside and feeling my shaft push a bit further between his cheeks. He nodded against my face. I wanted to be able to see his face for my next declaration, so I told him to turn his head to kiss me. Once our kiss broke, as we stared into each-other’s eyes I said with another thrust of my hips, “That’s going to be your punishment for trying to run away, you know?” I said rhetorically, then kissed him just as gently and tenderly as I could, before continuing. “You’re gonna get my big cock shoved up your tight little butt-hole and I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a month.”
His expression was even more incredible than I thought. Tears filled his eyes again and his whole face changed, showing his fear and anxiety. I pressed down a bit more, feeling even more of my thick shaft being enveloped by his butt-crack. “But you’re going to have to wait a bit for that,” I said and his face brightened just a bit with hope. “First, I have to punish you for pissing all over yourself. But before I even do that, I think I deserve a little reward first.” The bit of hope was gone from his face. He looked terrified again. “There’s still a couple spots on your body I haven’t cleaned yet.” And with one last thrust of my hips, I felt my cock-shaft bottom-out in his crack and knew that his own dick was being pressed tightly between his belly and the rock.
With one last quick kiss, I scooted down his body until my face was right over his firm, little butt. His butt-muscles were small but toned. I could have grasped both of them in one hand, however I couldn’t resist using both hands, wanting to feel each little globe separately. I took my time spreading his cheeks, snorting and sniffing along the way. His butt was funky. Probably even more stinky than the bottoms of his feet, however, the stench did not cause me even the slightest bit of disgust. In fact, it caused the exact opposite. I was so turned-on by the time I finally allowed myself to start tonguing his sweaty crack that if I’d grabbed my cock at the time and given it half-a-dozen pumps, I knew I’d erupt.
Time had no meaning by that point. I started by licking the precum my cock had leaked at the very top of his crack, then slowly let my tongue wander slowly down. I might have eaten the boy’s butt for ten minutes, an hour, or three, I had no clue. At first the boy struggled against me, then as I really got into it, his crack dripping with my spit as I tried to shove my tongue through the tight ring of muscle, he actually spread his legs a bit so I’d have better access to his butt. When I finally stopped, it took him a few seconds to realize that I wasn’t going back for seconds and he turned his head back to look at me.
I was staring down at him with a look of intense lust in my eyes and saliva coating and dripping from my face. “Turn over faggot,” I said with a forceful tone, “I want another look at that tiny, little baby-dick of yours.”
He moved slowly, but complied. His dick was still rigid and hard as a bone. And I saw, as he turned, that there was a big wet-spot on the rock where the tip of his dick had been. “Look at that you little cunt,” I said, pointing at the darkened spot on the rock. “You must have pissed a bit while I was eating your butt. Get down there and lick it up.” We both knew he hadn’t pissed and we both knew exactly what it was he was licking off the rock, but I knew the boy wouldn’t even consider correcting me.
“That’s good,” I said after a while and the boy stopped licking the rock, though he remained crouched-over, moving only his head. “Now come over here and sit on the edge.” He did. I could tell by his posture that he was exhausted. I knew in the grand scheme of things that the session had only been in motion for a small amount of time. An hour and a half, maybe two hours. But I’d put my boy through a lot in that time. However, I was sure that the next phase I had planned would possibly make him even more energetic than he’d been in our time together so-far.
He sat on the huge, flat rock with his downy lower-legs hanging over the edge. His shoulders were hunched-over and his head was hanging as low as possible, with him still able to look me in the eye. He wasn’t a stupid boy. Already he knew better than to look away from me. His dick was protruding from between his hairless, well-toned-but-lean thighs, just a touch higher than parallel with the ground. There was one hair-like string of clear fluid descending from the boy’s sheathed dick-head. My mouth began to water. While licking his own precum from the rock, his dick had deflated a bit. It was even noticeably smaller then I’d seen it before. I knew that it would snap fully-hard within seconds, if I took it into my mouth. That’s what I wanted to do. But first…
I pointed between his legs and hissed, “What’s that?”
His head snapped-up and I saw the fear increase in his face. He looked at my pointing hand, then where it was pointing. The parts of his body that weren’t already colored by scratches or bruises turned bright red. It started in his face, then the red flush descended his ectomorphic body. At that moment, he didn’t look pale. He looked down at his dick and we both watched it drop. Bit by bit, like spurts of air being released from a balloon, until it was no longer perpendicular to the ground, but pointing at it. The string of precum thinned and thickened, wiggled and swayed, but did not break. By the time the boy’s dick started to shrivel and become remarkably smaller, it reached the gravel at our feet.
“What the fuck is that?!” I said a bit louder and pointing more forcefully. And just as his head pulled his eyes from his crotch, my other hand, open-plamed hit his face. Except for where I hit him (and his bumps and bruises) his whole body went pale again, even paler than it had been before.
“It’s my cock,” he blurted.
“You call that shriveled, little thing a cock?! Shit, you barely got any hair growing down there. Cocks are hairy. Is your little baby-dick hairy?”
“No,” he whispered, looking at me, but not wanting to.
“So I’m going to have to ask a third time,” I said just as softly as his whisper. “What the fuck is that tiny, little worm dangling between your skinny fucking legs!?!” I pointed with one hand again and slapped with the other. His attention was, once again, taken by the pointing hand and it wasn’t until the last fraction of a second that the movement of my arm caught his attention and he turned his face toward it. I got the side of his face quite firmly and his whole body moved with the slap. He let out a pained yelp and, as he straightened-up and looked into my eyes again, I saw he was crying.
“It’s my dick,” his words were barely breath and almost impossible to hear over his soft sobs, “My baby-dick.”
“What’s it good for?” I asked gruffly, moving a little closer to him.
His eyes flashed with thought and he said, softly and simply, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I said, trying to sound a bit nicer and quite curious.
Another flash crossed his eyes, “Well, I use it to pee and , well, it get’s hard and stuff.”
“Can you make stuff come out of it?” I asked, then asked again with different words, “Do you make stuff come out of it?”
“Do it.” I said, “get it hard and make stuff come out of it.”
“I, uh,” he started and saw my opened hand approaching, so he grabbed hold of his flaccid, little dick and started rubbing it. My hand fell short and returned to my side. I watched the boy for a bit. He had both hands going at his dick, pulling and pinching, tugging and yanking, stroking and shaking, but nothing happened. Well, it did get a bit longer from all the manipulation, but it didn’t start to get hard.
“Fucking little, good-for-nothing baby-dick,” I spat-out after a moment or two. “Boy, you got a long way to go before you’ll ever call that pitiful thing a cock again. Cocks are big and hard and hairy,” I pressed my hips forward and felt my thighs bump his knees. “Tell me, which of these is a cock and which is a withered piece of spaghetti?”
“Yours is a cock,” he said dutifully, “mine is spaghetti.”
“Can’t even get the fucking thing hard, can you?”
He shook his head and started to cry a bit harder.
“You sure are a worthless little cunt,” I said in a loud, clear and rather jovial tone. “Can’t even get that little baby-dick hard, might as well be a fucking little girl.” I knew that would get to him. I had him programmed with the memories of being taunted by his school-mates. They called him every name in the book. Although there was one boy, a boy older than Lost-boy prime, who was the most handsome and sexy boy at the school, a boy who’s image was used in several of the masturbation fantasies I had programed as memories, the one boy of whom there were memories of longing and deep desire and in those memories that boy only ever referred to Lost-boy as one of two things. It was either a quick, chopped, “Faggot!” or a softly hissed, “Fucking girl!” Those were the two words that stung the worse. I could tell that all he wanted to do was curl-up and die. And even more than that, I knew he wanted to look away from me. But he didn’t dare. So, after giving him an intense glare, I looked away from him and started to rant.
“I should call one of the dogs over and have it bite that worthless thing right off you. Make you a real girl. Fucking little cunt of a faggot doesn’t deserve to live, let alone…. ”
His sobbing became louder and his hands started moving even faster in his crotch. Though his dick, while seeming to get a bit longer still, was still as lifeless as a wet noodle. All this was having the exact opposite effect on me. My cock was throbbing. I wanted nothing more than to shove it in his mouth and make him drink another load of my spunk. And while my ultimate plan was to get that load deep in his belly, I didn’t plan on giving it to him in his mouth. And I was going to have to wait a bit for that. He had one more punishment before that one.
I focused hard on controlling my body, doing everything I could to suppress the intense urges and my primal, throbbing needs. I feel the knot of pressure between my balls and asshole begin to relax, taking deep breaths, I get myself ready. He’s ready too. He was sobbing uncontrollably, his whole body trembling, his hands were still going at his little, pink dick, though with much less enthusiasm
than before, surely the first time he ever played with himself without it getting hard.
I knew I had to keep from getting myself too worked-up, so after a couple deep breaths I said, “Stop.” I forced myself not to just sound bored and like I couldn’t care less, I forced myself to feel it too. It was the only way it would work. “Just stop. This is a fucking waste of time. What kind of faggot are you? Got a hard cock right in front of your face and you can’t even get a fucking boner.”
His hands stopped moving but stayed in his lap, covering his soft, little dick.
“Look at me.”
I could tell it took everything he had to lift his head and meet my eyes. His eyes were red and so puffy from crying that they were barely open and through all the tears, I wondered if he was even able to see me. Not that it mattered.
“It’s time for your next punishment,” I said sounding and trying to also feel much less excited than the prospect actually did make me feel. I couldn’t let myself lose control. But watching the boy’s naked body start to tremble even harder and more tears flooding his eyes, it was extremely difficult to reign myself in. But I knew if the plan was going to work, I needed complete control of my body. “You’re a nasty, little girl who pissed all over herself,” I took a deep, calming breath, “and for that you must be punished.”
I could tell that every ounce of the boy’s being wanted to rip his teary eyes from me. And that he didn’t, well, knowing how horrible he was feeling, knowing what I was doing to him, made me feel as though I had more control over the boy than I did over myself. (And yes, deep down I did know that indeed, I had complete control over the simulation. Although, with the incredible realism of the simulator, it was quite easy to bury that knowledge so deep that I barely considered it.)
“Open your mouth,” I said, reaching down to grab my rigid, though no longer throbbing cock. I took another deep breath as I watched the beautiful boy, his face once again smeared with tears, open his mouth, which as a result of his sobbing, was stringy with salvia. That sight didn’t help my control issues at all. My urge was to shove my cock deep down the boy’s throat, knowing that the way was well greased and knowing that if I did, there would be no way to stop myself from erupting. Not yet…
I grabbed a handful of still-damp dark hair at the back of his head with one hand, with the other, I guided my cock to his mouth. I’d have liked to have paid much more attention to what I was doing, rather than focusing so much on my own restraint. He let out a whimper when the head of my cock touched his lip. Hearing that did not help one bit. I took another deep breath and willed myself to relax. It was the only way. It was quite difficult and took most all my concentration and focus. Relax. Let it happen.
I held his face there for quite a bit before I was able to do as I’d planned. The head of my cock touching his lips, though delving no further into his hot, wet mouth. Like a good-boy, he fought his own urges and kept his mouth wide open. In the end, I had to close my eyes, it was the only way I’d be able to relax enough. I struggled to loosen the necessary muscles and when it finally happened it was only a second before they clamped shut again. But that was enough to send a hot spray of my piss into his mouth.
His body reacted at once. He tried to close his mouth and at the same time he tried to cough and spit. He tried to pull his head away from me, but I kept it firmly where it was with his thick, dark hair clenched in my fist. And I did have to pull my hips back just at touch, so as not to feel his sputtering mouth actually touching the head of my cock. I concentrated with everything I had and, when I felt the muscles relaxing again, I tightened my grip on the back of his head even more and guided my cock back to his mouth.
“Drink, bitch!” I grunted and started to piss. This spurt lasted a bit longer than the first, though only by a second or so. And this time, the boy was somewhat prepared for it. Though he still choked and sputtered on it, managing to spit more of my piss out than he ingested.
I tightened back up and took my hand off my cock. With my other hand still wrapped in his thick dark hair at the back of his head, I started slapping him. Not hard, mind you, but just enough so that he knew I meant business. “You’re going to drink every drop of my piss for making me lick yours off your body. And if you spill even one more fucking drop, I’ll make you eat a steaming-hot piece of my shit, right out of my ass.” Now, that wasn’t something I was planning to make him do. In fact, I was disgusted by the idea. Piss was one thing. But the idea of that beautiful mouth being tainted by shit, well, I might be a kinky guy, but not that kinky. I did know, however, the threat would shake the boy right to his core. His lips sealed around the head of my cock and I let out another spurt. This time, I felt him sucking, drinking my piss. I started a slow flow. I could tell that he didn’t like it, but he swallowed it all. After a moment, I relaxed a bit and let the flow increase. He started sucking and gulping a bit harder and a bit faster. Then I stopped restricting my flow at all and gave him a full-force squirt. He tried. I know he tried. He tried the best he could, but it only took a second before I felt the seal his lips had around my cockhead fail and piss started dripping down his chin.
That sight sent a surge of blood between my legs, which caused my flow to pause just a second and in that time, the boy caught-up with what he already had in his mouth and, once I started pissing full-strength again, he’d gotten control and other than that bit of a dribble, he swallowed everything else I had to give him.