Date: Tue, 1 Jul 2008 20:37:54 -0700 (PDT) From: Noone Special Subject: Home: Chapter 1 A word from the author: This story is entirely fictional. Every character, place, and event exists only in my perverted imagination and, while I would be amazed if a similar story has not happened at some time, some place, somewhere in this vast, distorted world, any similarities between the contents of this tale and any real-life events are unfortunate and unintended. This is the first story of this kind that I have written and considered publication to the nifty archives. It was inspired in part by another story I read recently on this website entitled Dirt. It spun off and grew and evolved until I decided to put it down in text. And before I begin, I would like to state quite plainly that I have never done anything inappropriate with a minor-at least not since I myself was a minor-and would rather castrate myself than risk harming an innocent child in anyway (wouldn't be too hard...the job's already half done. Don't ask). Feel free to contact me with ideas, suggestions, critiques and all that jazz, but be warned that I've been known to be lazy in regards to sending replies. Anyway, that's enough verbal diarrhea for now. On to the story. Chapter One There Was the Word The boy swung cheerfully back and forth, humming some tune known only to himself while holding onto his mothers hand as she spoke with the hotel's manager, who looked rather displeased to be associating with these new and "unsavory" clients. The boy's clothes were stained and unwashed, his shoes were ratty and slowly deteriorating, and in general the child looked as though he hadn't been bathed or otherwise groomed in at least a week. His dark hair was filthy and unkempt, a small dash of dried ketchup clung to his cheek, and his hands were still covered in the grease from his last happy meal from McDonald's. He looked to be seven or eight; it was hard to tell through all the grime. The mother's appearance was no less impressive. Her skin and hair carried and equal, if not greater, amount of dirt and grime, and despite her half-conscious attempts to hide them, the manager spotted the tell-tale track-marks on her arms. She had an ancient and battered purse slung around her shoulders and a couple of Wal-mart bags in her free hand. Half listening to her cover story, the manager couldn't help but wonder if this woman thought he'd actually buy it. He'd seen people off the street before, and no amount of fast talking on her part (especially considering half of the words coming out of her mouth were slurred) would convince him that she was really "just in town to see her brother, who forgot she was coming and didn't make arrangements." After she contradicted herself for the fourth time, he cut in. "Look lady, I really don't give a crap why you need the room, or what you plan to do there. Only thing that matters to me is you pay the bill and don't cause me no trouble. Do that, and we'll get along just fine. It's sixty bucks a night, in advance. You got the cash or not?" The woman flushed and the child kept humming. Reaching into her worn out plastic purse, she retrieved three crumpled up twenties and passed them over the counter. Swapping the bills for a silver key, the man examined them cautiously. Satisfied they were real, he handed her a set of papers. "Sign at the bottom. You're in room one-sixteen." Scribbling something where indicated, the woman turned to leave, tugging at her inattentive son to make him follow. She was just opening the door to leave when the manager called out, "There's a dayroom at the end of the row with a TV and a water cooler, if you want to ditch the kid for a while once your John arrives." Turning around, the woman shot him a glare, but remained silent as she walked out into the blaring sun and the heat of the parking lot. Leading her son quickly to the designated room, she fumbled with the lock and ushered the boy inside. Relocking the door and sliding the chain in place, the woman let go of her son's hand and rushed through the room, locking the window and turning the ancient air conditioner on high before wandering into the bathroom. Dropping the plastic bags on the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Failing an attempt to fluff her hair, the woman sighed and quickly washed her face. The running water had a gray tint as it flowed down the drain. She reached for a hand towel, then stopped. Her face went pale and she rushed over to the toilet, barely lifting the lid before the first wave of vomit burst forth. Seemingly unaffected by his mother's sickness, the boy continued humming as he slowly explored the room. There were two twin beds, each with matching comforters and flat, worn out pillows. He leapt onto the one nearest the door, only to find it stiff and uncomfortable. Sitting back up, he noticed the tiny television and searched for the remote. He found it just as the sounds of his mother's illness ended with a loud groan. His tune repeated itself again as the screen flickered on and he began scanning through the channels. He settled on an old Tom and Jerry cartoon and started to turn up the volume when his mother screamed "Would you cut out that fucking noise already? I swear to god, one more sound and I'll beat your ass." Finding the mute button, the boy sat in silence, his eyes locked onto the screen as Jerry got the best of Tom for the tenth million time. A minute later, he heard his mom filling the tub and decided it was safe to start humming his endless song again. A few minutes passed and the show ended. He was about to start looking for something else to watch when his mother poked her head through the door. "Mal, get in here. It's time to get washed up." Dropping the remote and bounding over to his mother, Mal raised his arms as she stripped his torn and tattered T-shirt from him. The neck got caught around his head, and the swift tug from his mother that finally got it off left his face and ears burning. His mom started to turn back to the tub, but stopped. "You still have that fucking thing?" She asked, pointing at the thin beaded necklace that had been hidden under the shirt. Confused, the boy looked down and, using one hand to turn the beads so he could see his name spelled out, meekly replied "I like it. Richard gave it to me." Shaking her head, his mother sighed and pushed him towards the toilet. "That stupid fucking cop. Always so fucking better than us; offering to pay for this and buy that. Sit down and take a shit, I've got to make a phone call." Left alone, the boy worked on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, letting them fall to the ground on their own accord once he succeeded. Stepping out of his jeans and his shoes at the same time, Mal took a glance at his reflection. His skin was as filthy as the clothes he had just discarded; what should have been a pale-peach color was instead a sickly grey, with streaks and dark spots where the filth was especially heavy. His underwear had started off white, but were now covered with spots of grey and yellow. They were starting to wear out in the crotch, and he could see bits of his privates through some of the holes. Pushing them down to his ankles, the boy looked at his reflection again and pulled back his foreskin, proud to see that at least his little helmet was its proper red-purplish color. He heard his mother mumbling into the phone from the other room and remembered her instructions. Kicking his underwear across the floor, he flushed the toilet (his mother's sick was still floating on top of the water) and hopped onto the seat. He started humming again as he sat, calmly emptying his bladder and bowels as he listened to his mother's conversation in the other room. "Yeah, he's in the bathroom now. I got him some new clothes like you said . . . no, I haven't told him . . . I paid sixty bucks for the room, we didn't agree on that . . . okay. We're in one-sixteen, when is he coming by? Just a sec, Malcolm, I told you to shut the fuck up!" Mal snapped his jaw shut, cutting his song off mid-note. After a brief pause, his mom continued. "How much did you get him up to? Shit, really? Okay, I got to get Mal washed up before he gets here. See you soon Slick." Mal heard her hang up the phone as he was wiping himself, and his mom returned into the bathroom just as he was flushing the toilet. Quickly moving to the tub, his mom turned off the water and grabbed the showerhead off the wall. "Get in." Obeying quickly, the boy stepped in the water and shivered. "It's cold." "Why the fuck are you complaining? It's been a hundred degrees outside all week and you bitch when you get to sit in a nice cool tub in an air conditioned bathroom?" Of course, even with the air conditioner at full blast, the room was still in the eighties, but Mal kept quiet as his mom sprayed his hair and started working in some of the hotel's sample-sized shampoo. He closed his eyes as the grey foam started to slide down his face and he wondered how long they were going to live in this room. They'd stayed in hotel for a couple days after they first moved out of the apartment, but they'd been living in a women's shelter for the last few weeks since it was free. He'd heard his mom arguing with fat black lady a few nights ago, and in the morning she told him they weren't going back there again. Gasping at the cold water as she leaned him back to rinse his hair out, Mal splashed his face a bit to get the soap away from his eyes. When he opened them again, his mom was working up lather in a washcloth. Soon satisfied, she set down the miniature bar of soap and looked at him. "Stand up." Splashing his way to his feet, the boy shivered again as she quickly worked the cloth around his body. She was being more thorough than usual, much more so than he was used to, but then again he was also much dirtier than he usually was at bath time. He couldn't suppress a gasp when she moved to his crotch, forcing him to spread his legs as she washed his perineum. She didn't usually do that, and she spent much longer in that area than she did on the rest of his body. When she finally told him to sit down and rinse off, his face was quite red with confusion and embarrassment. Tossing her son the washcloth, the woman stood and started to leave. "I'm going for a smoke. Finish up quick and don't make a mess. Put on the new clothes when you get out." He started humming again as soon as she was out of the door. Splashing around for a bit before he realized the water had nearly turned black and there was a thick layer of sediment on the bottom of the tub, Mal finished scrubbing the parts of his body his mom had missed-being extra careful when he pulled back his foreskin again-before getting out of and grabbing a towel off the wall. He stared at the drain for a few minutes as he dried himself, trying to figure out how it worked, before shrugging and moving over to the sink, where he started rummaging through the plastic Wal-mart bags. He found a white "wife-beater" T, which he immediately donned, and he gasped when he saw a package of cartoon underwear. Tearing it open, he sorted through them, trying to decide between Batman and Spiderman until he saw Godzilla in the back. Nearly squealing, he quickly stepped into them and, after carefully adjusting it to fit properly, studied himself in the mirror. Grinning proudly, he let out a fierce roar and burst into giggles before running back into the main room and jumping on the bed. The TV was still on, and Bugs Bunny was getting the best of Daffy again. Mal quickly turned up the volume and resumed humming his song, although he was frequently interrupted buy bursts of laughter. After Daffy had his beak blown off for the umpteenth time and the credits came up, Mal realized that his mom wasn't back yet. Hopping to his feet, he walked over to the window and looked out to see his mother talking to a very tall black man in a purple suit and another man in a fancy suite. Satisfied that his mom was okay and realizing that he might get scolded for staring at mom while she was talking to her friends, Mal went over to the TV and got lost in another cartoon. A few minutes into it, the door opened and his mom and the fancy suite guy came in. Mal stopped humming again and looked up. "I'm going out for a while sweetie; this man is going to watch you for me. Be sure to do everything he says and don't give him no trouble, okay." "Okay." And the door closed, and Mal went back to his cartoon, humming his song. He was laying on the bed on his belly with his legs up in the air-they bounced a bit as the man sat down next to him and put his large hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's your name, Champ?" "Mal." "That's an unusual name. Is it short for something?" "Uh-huh. Malcolm, but mom's the only one who ever calls me that, and only when she's mad." "Well Mal, my name is James. It's a pleasure to meet you." The man extended the hand not on the boy's shoulder, and Mal giggled and reached over to give an awkward handshake. Mal returned his attention to the TV, and they sat in as much silence as the roadrunner and Wil E. Coyote would allow. In his distraction, Mal barely noticed the man massaging the bare skin on his shoulder, the hand slowly working its way over his shirt. "Well Mal, how old are you?" "Seven and a half." "No, really?" The man gasped in mock surprise. Grabbing the boy's arm, he squeezed gently. "You've got some pretty big guns for a seven and a half year old. Are you sure you're not pulling my leg?" The boy giggled a bit and shook his head. "Nope." The cartoon was going to commercial, so the man grabbed the boy by the underarms and lifted him into his lap. "Flex for me, I want to see just how big these python's actually are." Raising his arm and clenching his muscles, the boy giggled. "Boy, I bet the girls are just all over you, aren't they? You ever kiss one?" Shaking his head furiously with a very articulate "Eww" accompanying it, both the man and boy laughed a bit. "Well that's good. You know that girls have Cooties, right? If you catch them, then you spend the rest of your life giggling uncontrollably in your underpants." "You do not!" "Wanna bet?" And with that, the man began tickling the boy ferociously. Kicking and laughing, Mal tried to escape, but to no avail. "Uh oh, you lied to me. You kissed a girl, and now you have Cooties, isn't that right?" "No . . . Stop . . . Please!" the boy managed to gasp between laughs as his belly and armpits were mercilessly assaulted. Finally, after a few minutes of torture, the man stopped, one hand on the boy's upper thigh, the other clutching him tightly to his chest. The boy struggled to catch his breath and looked up at the man and smiled. His mom usually just left him by himself when she went somewhere, and even when she did get someone to watch him, they would usually just sleep or make him keep quiet while they did whatever they wanted. Lately she'd just been dropping him off at a local park and he'd wait for her by the swings. Needless to say, the boy was relishing in the adult attention he was getting from James. The commercial ended, and Mal turned his attention back to the flickering screen. He snuggled back into the man a little bit, resting his head against a fairly broad chest and sighing deeply. Before very long he was humming again. The man kissed his hair and began rubbing his thigh gently. "I like that song; does it have a name?" The boy shook his head and kept humming, the antics on the screen keeping all of is attention, distracting him from the hand that was slowly making its way onto the front of his Godzilla underpants. Finally realizing what James was up to when the man gave him a gentle squeeze, the boy stopped humming and looked up, his expression a mix of surprise, confusion, and curiosity. "Keep singing that song for me, I want to hear the rest of it." Resuming where he left off, the boy tried to turn his attention back to the TV, but ended up watching the show the man's hand was putting on instead. "Has anyone ever touched you there before? And taking a bath doesn't count" Shaking his head, Mal scooted back a bit and opened his legs a bit. He felt something poking against his butt, and so he wiggled around a bit, finally setting with the big thing in the man's lap resting in his crease. "Do you like it?" James asked, his other hand slowly working its way up the boy's shirt, rubbing his belly in a slow, circular motion around the boy's naval. Mal nodded his head slowly, and James realized his breathing was changing. Kissing the boy's damp hair again and inhaling deeply the scent of the hotel's shampoo, the man slid his hand under the boy's elastic waistband and grasped his slowly hardening penis. Mal gasped a bit, but kept humming. "I'm going to show you something real special that only grownups are supposed to know about. Would you like that, Mal?" Nodding again, the boy was a bit disappointed when the man removed his hands and set him on the floor. Spinning him around, James grasped the boy by the neck and pulled him close, shocking the boy with a passionate kiss. The boy had been opening his mouth to question what was happening, and he found his mouth filled for the first time by someone else's tongue. Unsure what to do, the boy pulled back at first, but finding that the man held him firmly, he surrendered and closed his eyes. James had closed his, so Mal was pretty sure he was doing the right thing. The man spent minutes exploring the inside of the boy's mouth, gently prodding and probing and attempting to provoke the boy's tongue to reciprocate. Eventually, Mal worked up the courage and found his tongue responding to the invader a bit, but never leaving his mouth. He started giggling and opened his eyes again, and the man soon broke the kiss. "You taste great," James complemented, "but there's something missing." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a butterscotch hard candy, and grinned as Mal's eyes lit up. "Boys should taste sweeter." Mal grabbed for the treat, but James held it out of reach. Popping it out of the wrapper, he tossed it in his own mouth and grinned wickedly at the disappointed child. Mal's face was just forming the beginnings of a pout when James whispered "You want it, come and get it." Blushing pink as he realized what James meant, Mal swallowed deeply and closed his eyes, leaning forward with his lips puckered. Their mouths touched, and Mal nervously pushed his tongue through their parted lips to explore the man's mouth. He felt the tip slide across a hard, sweet surface, and he tried to retrieve it, but the man slid it back, swirling it around, hiding and taunting the boy's tongue deeper and deeper. Mal wrapped his arms around the man's neck and held tight, and after a few minutes he emerged victorious. Smiling ear to ear, the boy stuck his tongue out, proudly displaying his trophy. James smiled and cupped the boy's bottom, pulling him back into another kiss, although this one was much shorter. The man moved his lips to the boy's neck, and slipped his hands inside the boy's underwear. Exploring the boy's porcelain skin with both his hands and his lips, he dug ever deeper, finally finding his finger resting against the child's hidden orifice. Mal gasped and squirmed as the man rhythmically pressed against his back entrance, but James didn't try to force his way in. Instead, he stripped the boy's shirt and threw it across the room. Lifting the boy into the air and spinning, the man pinned the child to the bed and slowly worked his way down the boy's body with his tongue. Mal started moaning, and James stopped nibbling at his captive's nipples long enough to notice the black and silver bead necklace. Lifting it up with a finger, he made eye contact with the boy and whispered "what's this?" "My necklace," the boy answered, still breathing heavily. "Richard gave it to me." "Who's Richard?" James returned his attention to the boy's nipples, slowly provoking them. "I used to live next door to him," Mal whispered, followed by a gasp. "He was nice to me and used to watch me when mom was busy." Tracing his tongue on the boy's sternum as he slowly moved south, James paused and nipped at the boy's ribcage. "Did you ever see his pee-pee?" "Uh-huh. We went to the bathroom at the same time once. It was Huge!" "Did he ever touch you or do things like this with you?" "Nuh-uh." James was lapping at Mal's naval now, slowly making his way down and tracing along the "V" that formed at his premature pelvis. He looked down to see the boy's small organ stretching against his Godzilla underwear, and the man couldn't help but chuckle "free the beast" as he lived the boy's hips up and pulled the garment down to the boy's knee's. The hard little member swung upward and strained, its little helmet just barely poking its way through the foreskin. "Get ready Mal, you're really going to like this," James warned as he exposed the boy's glands with his fingertips. The boy propped himself up on his elbows and looked down curiously. "Try to keep quiet though. With no further ado, the Mal's erection vanished into a warm, wet tunnel. A loud, long gasp escaped his throat, and his eyes rolled back into his skull. The boy moaned in pleasure, and then disappointment as the man once again moved down, suckling at his two tiny testicles for a few seconds before going even lower. Trying to squirm both away from and towards the invader at the same time, Mal moaned loudly as his anus was penetrated for the first time by a warm, wet, slimy object. James swirled and probed and bathed the boy's entrance for a few minutes before replacing his tongue with his middle finger and returning his focus to the boy's pulsing erection. Mal's elbows collapsed and he fell to his back, his hands finding refuge in his lover's hair. His eyes closed and he started humping the man's face unconsciously, each thrust timed with a high- pitched grunt. The boy barely even noticed when James inserted a second finger. A few minutes passed, and James lifted his head up, letting the boy's penis drop from his mouth. "Noooo . . ." Mal whined, propping himself back up to meet the man's eyes. "Please don't stop." "Don't worry Mal, I'm not done." Reaching into his jacket pocket with his free hand, James removed a small digital camera, being careful not to remove the fingers he had deeply imbedded the boy. "I just wanted to take some pictures to remember this by." Mal would have blushed, had his face not already been beet read from the previous activities. "But . . ." the boy started to protest as the first series of flashes half blinded him as James captured images of the boy's beauty. "I'm naked; you're not supposed to take pictures of someone who doesn't have their clothes on." Prompted by the protests, the man zoomed in on the boy's soggy erection and continued snapping pictures. "I've never heard that rule. Don't worry, I promise I'm not going to show them to anyone. They're just for me to remember how beautiful you are." Not completely satisfied by the man's explanation, Mal frowned, but remained silent as the man captured dozens of images, including close-ups of the boy's anus, still stretched around the intruding fingers. Finally appearing satisfied, the man examined the camera screen. Mal squirmed a bit, his anus clamping down on the man's fingers momentarily. "You promise you're not going to show them to anyone?" James grinned and pointed the camera back at the boy's face just as he twisted and spread his fingers inside the boy. "Yeah, I promise." Snapping a few last pictures of the boy's grimacing face, the man removed his fingers. After he'd taken a few shots of the boy's hole without anything inside, he set the camera down and removed his jacket, his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you doing?" The boy asked, cocking his head curiously. "Getting ready for the second part of the game," the man answered as he threw his shirt onto the other bed. "There's more to it than just me sucking on your cock." "What do you mean?" "You'll see in a bit." Undoing his fly, the man reached into his pocket and removed a small tube before dropping his drawers and kicking off his shoes. His massive erection slapped against his belly, leaving a small dab of pre-cum just below his naval. He looked up to see Mal's eyes wide and focused intently on his tool. Laughing, James spun the cap off the tube in his hands and squeezed some of the contents onto the fingers that had been impaled in the boy not long before. "Ever seen one this big before?" "Nuh-UH!" The latter part of the boy's response was much louder, primarily in response to the man's fingers having forced their way back into his rectum, spreading slippery goop all the way inside. The boy gasped and grunted as the man spun and spread the assaulting fingers for a few seconds before once again devouring the boy's tiny cock. A few minutes passed with the man swirling and suckling and probing before he decided to up the ante. The boy sighed a bit as James removed most of his fingers, leaving just the tip inside. He was not, however, as pleased when he realized the next step James had planed. "No-Uh!-Wait, three is too many!" "No it's not Mal," James responded, letting the boy's boner slip from his lips. "Just relax and loosen up, stop clamping down on me." Writhing and grunting, Mal clamped his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, making fists on the sheets as the fingers finished making their way inside. Once they had, James lowered his head back down to finish his meal, rapidly working the straining boy closer and closer to the edge of the precipice Mal wasn't even expecting. The first wave struck Mal like lightning. All at once, his eyes flashed open, his pupils dilated, his mouth dropped, his breath caught in his throat, and every muscle in his young body clenched, including his sphincter. He bucked and squirmed and fought. He wanted to scream, but only a choked gasp escaped his lips. He almost broke James's nose with his thrusting. Mal's first orgasm seemed to last forever, and when it finally ended, he collapsed, exhausted in every sense of the word. He fought to catch his breaths as he realized his cheeks were soaked with tears. The comforter beneath him was damp from sweat. When he found the strength, he raised his head to find James leering at him. "It's really something, isn't it?" Not responding, he set his head back down. He closed his eyes, barely conscious of the man removing his fingers. "Don't fall asleep on me, sweetheart. We're not finished yet. It's my turn now." "I can't move," the boy protested. James chuckled as he lifted the boy's ankles onto his shoulders. "That's okay, you don't have to." Confused, but too exhausted to question, the boy felt a large, blunt, slimy object pressing against his hole, and in a flash, he realized what the man had planned. His eyes flipped open and for the first time in the encounter, fear crossed the boy's face. "No, Don't," the boy exclaimed, but a large hand muffled him and pinned him helplessly to the bed. "I'm sorry Mal, I'm not going to tell you this isn't going to hurt," James whispered, ignoring the child's inaudible protest at the rhythmically thrusts giant erection against the boy's puckered lips. "It's just like before, with my finger,"-Mal realized that said finger was now covering his mouth, smearing its slimy goop over his lips-"it doesn't seem like it can fit, but it will, whether you want it to or not. If you fight it, it's going to hurt a lot more than it has to, and I don't want that any more than you do. If you lie still and try to relax and accept it, it will still hurt, but not nearly as much. After a while, you'll get used to it, and you might even start to like it." Mal started crying, and James cooed softly and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be scared, it will all be over soon." And with that, he pushed. Mal made an incomprehensible protest as his anus began to give way, slowly being stretched apart by James's invading cockhead. The pressure slowly built up until, ignoring James's warning, Mal tried to expel the invader, only to find the first inch or so slide past his gate. His eyes glazed over and his breath caught for a second before his screams exploded like a dam- burst, loud despite being gagged. He thrashed about helplessly, but couldn't escape; his hands were pinned to the mattress above his head and his legs trapped in the air. A minute passed, and the boy finally calmed down. He continued sobbing, his eyes pleading with his assailant, but James just cooed and whispered, "That was the toughest part, baby. It gets easier from here on out, I promise." After waiting another minute or two to let the boy adjust, James began pressing forward again, although he was much gentler than before. He slowly and calmly thrust a half inch in, then pulled a centimeter out. Another half inch in, another centimeter out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Mal grunted and cried with every movement as James slowly fucked his way into his ass. After what seemed like hours of torment to the child, Mal finally felt James's pubic hair scratching his bottom and heard the man release a loud, long sigh. After a still, silent moment, James whispered "I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, but only if you promise not to scream, okay?" The boy nodded and, once the hand was gone, took in a deep gasp of breath. James realized that the boy's tears had been accompanied by a runny nose, and that for the last five minutes the boy had barely been able to breathe. Cursing himself, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a box of tissues and quickly began cleaning up the boy's face. "Please take it out," the boy pleaded, his voice changing a bit when the man pinched his nose, trying to force some of the excess mucus out. "Please, it hurts!" "I know it does, angel, but it will start to feel better, I promise. It's like when you get a cramp; at first it hurts a lot and you don't think it will ever get better, but then someone helps you stretch the muscle, and the pain starts to go away. Just hang in there for a few minutes okay?" "Why?" The boy's voice cracked. "I didn't do anything bad! Why . . ." "Oh sweetheart . . ." James almost started tearing up himself. "This isn't a punishment. It's hard to explain-especially to someone as young as you-and even if I could, I don't think you'd understand. I love you and I don't want to hurt you, but I have to do this. If I don't do this first, someone else will, and they might be rough and make it hurt a lot more than it has to. I know you'll hate me forever and you'll never want to see or hear from me again, but I've still got to do it or the next John . . ." James trailed off, then shook his head. Running his hands through the boy's hair, he smiled. "How is it? Is it getting better?" The boy's lip quivered and he reluctantly nodded slowly. "I'm going to give it another couple minutes, and then I'm going to start fucking you. It might start hurting again, but I want you to just be a big boy and try not to fight it, okay? I'm so proud of you, you're doing so good." True to his word, several minutes later, James slowly removed about half his length and thrust it in again. Mal whimpered both ways, and he whimpered again the next time, and the next and the next and the time after that. Minutes passed, and James began to pick up the speed as Mal's whimpers turned into cries of "Ah! Ah! Ah!" Reaching down between the boy's legs, James was a bit surprised to find the boy's penis at half-mast. Using two fingers, he started masturbating the child in time with his thrusts by pulling the boy's foreskin back and forth, gradually coaxing the boy into another erection. "How are you doing, Mal?" James asked, panting heavily as he bumped his hips against the boy's. "Getting into it?" The boy didn't respond; he simply closed his eyes and clenched his fists around the fabric beneath him, still moaning with each thrust. "I'm almost done," James announced, leaning forward to whisper in the boy's ear. "In a little bit, I'm going to be shooting my hot, steamy cum up your tight, hot, steamy little chute." The new angle forced Mal's bottom off the bed and into the air. The skin on the boy's stomach formed folds, and the boy was now being entered from an almost vertical angle. "You're one of the best fucking cherries I've ever popped. Don't tell Slick, but I would have paid double-'course, he would have let me fuck you for half. He always says you have to stretch them out right before you start parading them around the street." Cupping the boys cheek, James gave the boy a peck on the lips, and then another. "Oh god, here it comes!" The man began pulling out farther and thrusting harder, causing the boy's moans to be louder and sharper. With one last, solid thrust, the man grunted and squirted, coating the boy's innards with sperm, and then he collapsed. Pinned beneath a man who weighed four times more, the boy grunted and whined and struggled, finally succeeding in rolling the dead weight to the side, dislodging the man's softening cock with a loud "pop!" in the process. This caused the boy to grimace again as he rolled the other way, his back to the man, and hugged his knees. He started sobbing softly; his eyes were red and his face was puffy from tears. A minute passed and he felt James move beside him. A hand touched his arm reassuringly. The hand felt so different from what it had just a little while ago, transformed from harsh to gentle, from coarse to smooth, from cruel to loving. James gently cooed in the boy's ear, softly whispering "Shhh . . . it's okay now. It's over. You did great, Mal; I'm so proud of you. You're the best cherry I've ever popped. I love you Mal; I love everything about you. Your face, your voice, your body. You're so perfect; you're an angel who's misplaced his wings." Mal allowed the man to slowly bring him closer. They laid in silence for a few minutes as the boy's tears slowed, and before long, Mal found himself drawn by the man's attempts to comfort him. His eyes grew heavy, and he slowly drifted asleep; the Television still blaring in the background.