Artie pulled out of his son with a sickly, greasy, slimy slurp. Some stuff poured out of the kid’s asshole—his massive, insane load and whatever juices he had felt sloshing around inside Owen. He looked down at his cock, still unable to believe how big it was, even though it was softening. It was a good few inches longer than it had been before, probably right around 13 now. And the girth! Good lord the girth! He used to be able to fit his big hands around his member, but not anymore. Of course, to really understand his girth, all he had to do was look to his son, Owen, who was lying there on the grass, shivering and staring blankly at the chipper blue sky above. “Jesus,” Artie muttered in his southern accent as he surveyed the damage he had just done…for the fifth time that morning.
He didn’t know a child’s hole could look like that. He didn’t know it would take on such a purpleish color. And was it supposed to hang like that? It kind of worried him, but then he remembered how this had all started. Archie zones out while staring at his son’s wrecked pussy. It had been a morning like any other. He’d woken up suddenly EXTREMELY hard – harder than he’d ever been in his life. And bigger, like he was now. He got out of bed for some reason—looking back he couldn’t remember why. And just as he went out into the kitchen that Owen had appeared too, running and moaning like a crazy person, his tiny feet carrying him unbelievably fast. And he had attacked Artie. Attacked his own father.
The kid was tearing at him, mumbling some nonsense that Artie couldn’t make out. But it became pretty clear pretty quickly, as they struggled, what Owen was after. After all, the kid kept saying it over and over again: “Kiss me daddy! Kiss me on the lips! Please! KISS! KISS!”
No way was Artie going to kiss his own son. His son wasn’t some faggot who liked kisses. Sure, the kid had no mommy to kiss him, but Artie hadn’t spent years taking on the burden of this kid by himself to raise some sissy. So he took off running to get out of the house and away from the moaning boy. But goddamnit if the little guy didn’t catch up with him by the time they reached their front lawn. It must have been Artie’s massive throbbing hardon that slowed him down, and there was so much blood in his cock he couldn’t think. Which must be why he did what he did.
Right there on his lawn he had turned on his boy, grabbed the little kid’s ankles as he ran, and tripped him, hard, onto his back. As the kid fell down into the dewey grass, Artie decided to take care of two problems at once: his kid and his cock. Next thing he knew, he was full on fucking his whining little snot of an offspring, and all of the sudden the kid changed his tune. No more, “Kiss me daddy!” It was all silence and moans and screams and wails. But he took it. That’s what matters. He took every inch of cock right there, even when Artie stopped or adjusted, or pulled out to take a rest – the kid didn’t move. He didn’t even put his legs down. Sure, he still cried and screamed like a bitch when he was getting fucked, but he didn’t try to get away. And when they were interrupted – well it was a hazy memory because he was mid-child-fuck, but it sure seemed like Owen had pulled his daddy back into his ass. Could that be possible? And who had interrupted him? He had a sense that it was his no-good neighbor, Zeke, but if so he couldn’t remember.
Whatever. He had now dicked his kid a good five times in a row, and the kid was still laying there like a zombie. Artie did have a few ideas of what was going on. As he’d been fucking away his only offspring, he’d seen other kids and men running through the neighborhood. But none of the men were like him. They were all trying to get away, while he was enjoying the sweet creamy filling of his son’s innards. He wasn’t quite sure if Owen could say the same, but judging by the kids he saw running by, more than a few of them would have liked to have the massive, insane anal pounding he was doling out to his own son. But for some reason, whatever changes were going on made Artie want to bury his lead pipe in his son and only his son, as long as that was an option.
Artie snapped out of his trance. He realized that as he’d been staring at his boy’s hole, lost in thought, the little purple and puffed out edges of Owen’s wrecked pussy had disappeared. Yes, the hole was definitely shrinking right before his eyes. In no time, it was back to its virginal splendor, tight, intact, like it’d never had anything up it at all. And that was all it took. Artie’s massive boner was back at attention and ready for work. It didn’t take long for the head to pop in. At this point, he was tired of worrying about his kid. His cock was way more important than his son at that moment, and if the kid wasn’t gonna put up a fight, he was going to keep taking care of their little problem the only way he wanted to.
Owen, meanwhile, has a bit of a different reaction. Reader, did you have your hateful father’s 13 inches buried so deep in you that you thought you’d puke out cock? If not, then you have no idea what Owen is going through.
“Oh son,” Artie says as he moans at the ecstasy that is his son’s ripping hole. “Oh I love fucking you. How could I have wanted so long? Well now that I know, this is all we’ll—“Kisses…” Owen’s voice is so tiny and meager, its barely a whisper. “Kisses.”
Owen doesn’t get a kiss. Instead, he gets a big loogie from his father spat directly on his right eye, followed by a starling slap in the face from Dad’s big hand.
“NO KISSES FOR MY FAGOT SON! ONLY COCK! Spit on your face is the only thing you’re getting from now on, every time you ask for a kiss!” shouted Artie at the top of his lungs. He didn’t have to worry about who heard him. He knew what was going on—the boys were sluts, and they needed to be taught a violent, but necessary, lesson.
His anger seemed to work, because Owen promptly shut up. He just sat there, squinting with the spit on his eye, whining and whimpering with each thrust, as his daddy went to town.
“Now here’s the deal, kiddo.” squish squish squish. “Daddy’s got a plan. You remember your Uncle Bobby? Daddy’s big brother? The one who went to jail when you were a little boy for what he did that kid? Well he’s been trapped in jail for a long time, and I think it’s time we went and rescued him. What do you say? Spread your legs if you agree. SPREAD YOUR FUCKING LEGS.”
Owen only moaned and cried a little in response, then spread his legs a big further.
“I knew you’d agree,” Artie said. “We’ll go as soon as I’m done here. And you’re gonna come with me and do whatever I say, aren’t you?”
“Yes…Ugh…OUCH…oooh…Dadddy….yes…UGH…Daddy!” Owen cried out, just as loud as his father had been. His voice was so high pitched and girly it pissed off Artie pretty bad, and he started longdicking his son once again. That always finished him off.
In and out he thrust like a madman, enjoying the popping, squishing and tearing sounds he made with each violent reentry. Owen took it like a champ, sorta. If you can call screaming yourself hoarse champion sort of behavior.
Artie felt another one of his massive White Trash loads coming on, but just before he shot, he was struck by a sudden urge. Pulling out of the kid with yet another noisy slurp, Artie leaped forward with incredible deftness, and pointed his dirty cock point blank at Owen’s face. Soon, Owen’s daddy made his right eye match his left eye. Because right in that red little eye, with its beautiful green irises, is where the first spurt of Artie’s jizz lands.
It went as you would expect. Jizz everywhere. Baby sauce all over the grade schooler’s wet face. The final volley went right into the little slut’s mouth, because Mr. Artie was just pulling that jaw as open as far as possible, and then two more inches, to get all that cream in there. The boy was swallowing as fast as he could, but his little gullet just wasn’t designed for loads this size. After all, cum wasn’t his need—kisses were. Artie stood up, finally feeling satiated. “All right, son. Let’s go find Uncle Bobby.”
Artie and his son stood, buck naked, outside the gates of the California State Correctional Facility. They had traveled all this way on foot, and it had taken all day. Normally, they could have walked it in just a couple hours, but Artie had to stop every 20 minutes or so to satisfy his boner via his son.
Artie and Owen did everything while they traveled. Owen got fucked lots, yes. But he also sucked some major cock, gagging on it and getting his first face fucking right on the pavement road toward the beginning of their hike. He got facefucked so hard, in fact, that he was picking gravel out of his hair for the rest of the walk. He sucked on other parts of his Daddy, too. He spent a good long while sucking on Artie’s filthy toes (Artie was walking completely naked) while daddy jerked off his own cock and let the baby goo rain down on his baby. Owen became well acquainted with his father’s armpits and their smell, too, as he sucked on his own dad’s armpit hair.
The little guy was no longer a stranger to his father’s adult asshole either. Artie rested his feet for a while by sitting on a bench in a park, but not before he took Owen and placed the child on the grass, his head back on the seat of the bench. Yes, while Artie rested his tired doggies, little Owen lapped and sucked at his dad’s hairy hole without complaint.
That was the curious thing about it. Owen clearly only wanted kisses, but somehow he knew that he could boss his kid around, and the kid wouldn’t do anything. It was as if, by denying the kid his coveted kisses, he had transformed the boy into a total cock zombie. How nice! And that was exactly what Artie planned on telling his jailed brother.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that Artie was a bit scared of entering the prison. First off, it was a prison, so that in itself was intimidating. But more so, he was nervous about seeing his big brother, Bobby. It had been almost 10 years since he had seen Bobby. The last time was when they had been in court for his hearing. Bobby took the fall for something bad that both he and Artie did. Artie thinks back to that day, by the creek, with that unfortunate little boy who wandered a bit too far from the adults at his birthday party. The two of them had really fucked that kid up. Right there in the dirt. But it hadn’t been like it was with Owen. That kid was no willing cock zombie. But he ended up doing pretty much everything anyway. That’s what happens when you’re that young and small, and your tormentors are two big, white trash bullies. But Bobby had admitted to doing it alone, and was sentenced to prison without his little brother. Artie’s wife had been pregnant at the time, and Bobby didn’t want to see his little bro go to jail. The big oaf could be very protecting. But Artie hadn’t visited, hadn’t even sent a letter to his brother. He felt terrible about that, but he was about to make it up to him in the bestt way possible, using his son as a peace offering.
As soon as he and his son were inside the prison walls, Artie knew something was different. He had been to this prison before, albeit not to visit his brother, and he knew it was infamous for overcrowding. But now, as he walked the halls, he saw that there were only a handful of men left. About one in every three cells was occupied. But the racket they were making was enough to make it seem like the prison hall was at double capacity. That small group of men behind bars were screaming and moaning as if they were in pain. As they walked the hallways, Artie realized exactly why the men remaining were moaning. They were all buck-naked and ROCK HARD, so rock hard that many of them had pools of cum and precum lining the floors of their cells. These men were clearly deprived of what Artie and all the men on the outside had been deprived of: child hole. And it was driving them insane.
Poor Owen was trembling and terrified, especially because as he walked by, the vicious caged men reached out for him, rattling their bars (and balls) and screaming bloody murder. A few of them even spit on the kid, and one or two managed to shoot some handsfree cocksnot through their bars and hit him like a moving target. But Owen, being the obedient, brain-dead boy he was (having been deprived of his need for so long) simply trembled, cried a little, and followed his daddy to the back of the prison. To the maximum security, isolation cell.
That’s where Uncle Bobby was kept, because he was known to be too violent, too strong, and too dangerous to be around other prisoners.
But apparently Artie felt he wasn’t too dangerous to be around his only son. “You go in first. I don’t wanna see him before he’s unloaded.”
“But…but…kiss daddy?” muttered the idiot child. God, so annoying that all he can think about is kisses! “Uh..yeahh….sure…I’m sure Uncle Bobby will kiss you. That’s his thing. Now go in, Owen, before I get angry.” Once again playing the role of the obedient slut, Owen went over to the handle turned it, and walked into the all white isolation chamber.
The bright florescent lights were bright, so Owen didn’t have a chance to look at the uncle he’d never met before…The six-foot-eight, prison-muscled, tattooed man roared and leapt on the child. It had been years since he’d had that tight pussy so long ago, and over the past 12 hours or so, his cock had never been harder. Owen didn’t know what had hit him. He had been standing against the door, scared of his uncle, in desperate need of a kiss. The door he was standing against had a small, square window about three feet up.
The next thing Owen knew, his face was pressed hard into that glass, because the man had lifted him three feet in the air and plunging the child down onto him balls deep. He impales right into that hole that is so desperately trying to heal itself from its last father-son fuck session.
It was the perfect height for Artie, who was still on the other side of the glass, to watch his little boy’s face contort as his anus tasted his uncle’s cock for the first time. It made him shoot. And he aimed for the window. So while Owen is desperately trying to accommodate the 13-inch child abuser cock that is tearing his guts apart, he is treated to a lovely show of his own father’s splurge.
“I fucking hate that kid,” Artie mutters, and then enters the room himself.
By the time he gets inside, Owen and his loving Uncle Bobby have already moved into a new position. Now, the little kid is on his back on the floor, his ankles being crushed by two massive, tattooed hands. Poor Bobby was so blue balled and deprived of his NEEDS that he was just going to town on the boy’s hole. You can see that Owen’s ass cheeks, once pale and smooth, are red and somewhat welted. Not from spanking, you see, but from the sheer force of his uncle’s massive muscular thighs slapping into the kids pale, abused mounds. Owen walks in, and instead of greeting his long lost brother, he takes a moment to sit on Owen’s forhead and give the zombie slut a little taste of salty daddy ballsack. Yum! I’m sure Owen would say yes, if he weren’t so brain dead from having been denied HIS need for so long: a sweet, loving kiss from daddy. He’ll have to settle with that nutsack we mentioned instead.
With the youngest member of the family fully stuffed, the two brothers were now looking each other in the eye for the first time in a decade. Neither of them missed a beat as they stared, however. Uncle Bobby kept longdicking the little slut with every ounce of his energy, while Artie used his big hands to bounce his nutsack in and out of Owen’s accommodating mouth.
“Bobby, I’m—” Artie started.
“Don’t,” Bobby grunted at his little brother. “Is this who I think it is?” To indicate who he was talking about, Bobby spat on Owen’s plummeting and falling little stomach.
“It is…this is Owen. Your nephew. I—“ That was odd. Artie started to mist up. Was he touched by seeing his brother again?
“Did you—did you bring him for me?” Bobby asked. And sure enough, his big, tough, muscled, tattoed brother also got a little wet around the eyes, even as he continued to shove his pole deep into the child between them. “I did—Bobby I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I never came to visit you. It was just so hard to—after what we went through. But everything’s changed! I…I don’t know if you know this but there’s something happening on the outside. The boys have gone crazy and I—“
Bobby put up his big hand, stopping his little brother from talking. He paused, his cock to the hilt in Owen’s guts.
“I know, bro. I know. Something – something changed in here too. Yesterday at some point. All of the sudden, all of the guys were gone. The prisoners I mean. There’s only a few of us left—and the two guards that were here abandoned us to starve. I was in solitary when it happened, but I could…I could sense it.”
“That’s—that’s awful,” Artie said as he looked at his brother. The man wasn’t just a big boy-raping oaf—he was a big, sensitive boy-raping oaf. The anger he showed when he pummeled Owen’s interior simply vanished when you looked at his eyes.
Bobby began his thrusting again as he gazed into his long lost little brother’s hard brown eyes. They had been apart for so long—but now that they were together something had changed.
First, Bobby leaned into the boy, burying himself deeper in the groaning child than he ever had before. Then, Artie inched forward, allowing his son to make contact with his hairy hole for the 5th time in his life. And then, something completely unexpected happened. The two big, trashy, muscular, homophobic, redneck brothers fell into a kiss. Not just a peck on the lips either, a deep, passionate, adult kiss. Their brotherly tongues flew into each other’s mouths as they kissed desperately.
Meanwhile, these two vicious siblings continued to shove ruthlessly into the little child. Because the kiss was so passionate that, whoops, wouldn’t you know it? Daddy’s cockhead slipped right into his pink, whining mouth-cunt.
And in during their passionate kiss, Artie and Bobby do something only two brothers can do – they ejaculate exactly in unison. Spurt after identical spurt fills both the gullet and the guts of little Owen as he lay on the prison floor. The little boy has now made out with ass lips and piss slits, but still no kiss on the mouth from Daddy to satisfy him. He has more than enough cum to last him for months, though, given what his daddy is depositing in his throat and his new beloved Uncle is injecting directly into his bowels.
Finally, when they were done, the pulled out of the boy with two wet slaps, letting their cocks hit the floor. Then the boy collapsed on the ground, exhausted from their orgasm and emotional reunion.
But Owen was still unsatisfied. In his zombie like state, he crawls up on his floor, stumbling, wincing, and yelping as his little anus tries to reorganize itself into something appropriate for his age. It’s a painful process, but something in his new genetics makes his hole extremely eager to get back into shape, no matter how much it stings.
But the boy is unstoppable. He crawls up to his Uncle, and puckers his lips. He’s just about to get the kiss he’s been longing for when his uncle’s tattooed fist comes forward and knocks the kid back.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?!? YOUR SON JUST TRIED TO KISS ME!” Bobby roars. He always hated faggots.
“Oh shit. OWEN. LISTEN TO ME!” Artie grabs his son by the face and forces the dumb, brain dead child to look him in the eye. “YOU DO NOT KISS MEN. NEVER. I KNOW IT IS WHAT YOU NEED, BUT YOU DO NOT KISS THEM. NOT UNLESS ORDERED TO DO SO. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
Owen trembles in his big father’s hand, too scared and confused in his zombie fog to answer.
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
This time the boy nods, and Artie lets him fall to the floor.
“Sorry about that. Look, something’s going on with the kids. They all have—like—these needs. I heard them screaming as they ran around outside today. Some of them want…well they all want sexual stuff. It’s weird, Bobby.”
“You think that’s weird, you should hear what Dr. White is saying.”
“Dr. White? He’s—he’s still here?”
“Fuck yeah he is.”
Artie allowed this information to settle in as he watched his son curl up on the prisn floor in the corner. Dr. White was here, in this jail. He had been a renwend scientist in their city, until he had lost his mind. He had tried to create some sort of sonic device or something. Artie never was sure of the details – he didn’t read much being a redneck. But he knew it was bad, and that everyone had been calling him a Mad Scientist or Evil Genius. Before his big mistake, he had been a hotshot, considered a total genius, expected to win a Nobel prize some day. But he’d been in prison for almost 20 years—and he was still here.
“What does Dr. White say?” Artie asked his brother.
“Let’s go ask him.”
The two men walked up the hallway of the prison, each holding one of little Owen’s hands, half guiding him, half dragging the exhausted slut. They ignored the cries and moans of the men in the cells, each one still jerking furiously as they sniffed the little cunt walking by. They ascended the stairs and found another cell at the top, set off from the others. Inside sat the famous, corrupt, evil genius: Dr. White.
Dr. White had been extraordinarily handsome, and Artie could see he had remained so in the slammer. The man was still tall and stately, but his once neat hair had grown out and gone white, now jutting in every direction. Still, he looked as though he would fit well into a white lab coat, even though he was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit.
Dr. White had been loved for his intellect, and even after his scandal, he was still regarded as a genius. He had always been a little loopy, even before his scandal. But it was clear now the man had come undone. However, there was something about him that distracted Artie and Bobby from all this—his massive boner, which was still zipped up in his orange jump suit. The thing was huge, the throbbing head of it almost reaching the man’s muscular chest. It was leaking prefuck inside the jumpsuit, making a big stain in between on the orange fabric between his pectorals.
“Go on,” Bobby said to his fellow inmate. “Say what you’ve been saying.” Dr. White remained silent.
“I don’t get it,” Bobby said, turning to his brother. “The guy wouldn’t shut up about his theories last night.”
“Him.”
Bobby and Artie both turned to look back at the Mad Scientist behind bars. The man was pointing with a big, long finger at Owen.
“Him?” both brothers said in unison. Dr. White nodded solemnly.
Bobby turned to Owen, feigning concern, but saw his brother smiling proudly.
“Looks like my son is gonna be our little slut canary in a prison coal mine. Let’s send him!”
Bobby turned the complex locks on the door of the man’s cell, and opened it only enough to allow Owen to slip inside.
Everything happened so fast. There was a loud unzip as Dr. White unleashed his own scientific Weapon of Mass Destruction. The veiny monster slapped out straight forward, having been compressed for far too long. And wouldn’t ya know it, but that very cockhead that was once spewing precum was now spewing cum. And it wasn’t wasted on a jumpsuit, either.
The first surprise shot of cum hit the top of Owen’s head. The kid was so shocked by the splatter on his mop of brown hair that he looked up, just in time to catch the second rope right across the lips, like a milk mustache. Well, the next thing ya know, the politician had grabbed the boy by the lips, pulled him over, and shoved his cockhead all the way in in one swift movement. For the second time in the last 20 minutes, Owen was choking down sperm desperately, still thinking longingly of a kiss on the lips. He’ll never get it. Surprisingly, as the Mad Scientist continued to unload his perved up, pent up sperm into the kid, he began speaking. At first it was mostly grunts, but it soon turned to somewhat of a lecture.
“AH FUCK! FUCK SWALLOW KID SWALLOW! AH YOUR DADDY TAUGHT YOU RIGHT, DIDN’T HERE…AHHH THERE YA GO. THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU WANT, SO IT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU GET. THAT’S PERFECT. YES! YOUR DADDY DID A GOOD JOB! YES HE DID! HE GETS IT! HE GETS IT JUST LIKE US! SWALLOW FASTER YOU CUNT!”
Owen didn’t have much choice, seeing that the massive dick that was splitting his lips was lodged about halfway down his throat.
“WHAT’S HIS NEED?” Dr. White barked at Artie as his dick continued to regurgitate inside the boy’s gullet. “His—is need?” Artie said.
“FUCK YEAH! HIS NEED! YES! WHAT HAS HE BEEN ASKING FOR??”
“Uh…kisses. He wants to be kissed.” Artie flushed when he said this. He didn’t like having to admit that his son, who was currently on his knees gargling dicksnot, was a homosexual wanting a kiss. “HAVE YOU KISSED HIM YET? SWALLOW YOU LITTLE FUCKER!”
“Uh…no. I haven’t… I’m not gonna do that to my kid. I’m no faggot.” Artie and his brother shared an embarrassed look.
“EXCELLENT!” The Mad Scientist roared as he pulled his cock out of the kid’s throat, finally done ejaculating his thick and creamy seed. Owen once again fell to the floor in the fetal position, wracking with coughing, gasping for air, and maybe muttering the words “kiss me” in his tiny voice. The men were all too distracted to hear him.
“Listen to me,” Dr. White said, leaving his prison cell now that the door was open and he was satisfied. “You must never, EVER give him what he needs. It’s essential. It’s not…it’s not how it’s meant to be.”
“Here we go,” said Bobby. “This is the kinda stuff he’s been saying.”
“You cannot give the boys what they need. It’s not right to do so. Amoral in fact. What we must do is focus on us, on our needs. That’s the whole point…the whole point of it all. The boys’ needs must never be met, but we must satisfy ours. That’s the only way it will work…that’s the only way it’s designed to work.” The man had a bit of an insane look in his eye, though he still was incredibly scientific, logical in his delivery, and the intelligent spark was still there.
“Only way what’s designed to work?” Artie asks. “SHHH!” he barks at his kid, who is still coughing on the floor, making it hard to hear.
“I’m…I’m not at liberty to say. But trust me, I know things. Let me explain. Something has happened, and now all the boys have a need. I’m not sure how it happened, but I know that no child under the age of 18 was exempt. They need something, preferably, it seems, from their fathers, but they’ll take it from anyone. It’s truly disgusting if you think about it.
“But there’s a way around it. You…you see….you can give them their need, but they’ll never be fully satisfied. They’ll always come crawling back for it. And if you deny them their need entirely, they’ll starve. But there’s a loophole, you see? I figured it out. A loophole. You don’t have to give them what they want…but if you still give them something sexual…what YOU want…then they…they….well they start to act like your son here, Mr…” “You can call me Artie.”
“Arite. If you deny the boys their need, but fuck with them however you please, you get this delightful little creature we have here in my cell. A cockslut. A total cum whore. A ZOMBIE BOY! He will listen to your every demand until he gets what he needs. He is completely under your control JUST AS LITTLE SLUTTY CHILDREN SHOULD BE!” Dr. White let out an insane laugh here that went on and on and on. Artie and Bobby looked at him uncomfortably, but joined in the laughter too. Soon, the only one who wasn’t laughing was the very zombie slut they were laughing at, Owen.
Suddenly, Dr. White stopped laughing, and became very serious. “We have to get out of here. Don’t you see what this means? We can…collect. We can gather. We can get the children and make them ours. We could have…a veritable army. But we have to go now, before…before their fathers find them and try to ‘save them.’” “Wait a minute,” Artie put up his hand. “How do you know all this? You have an awful lot of information for someone who’s been in prison for so long.”
“No time to explain. Listen to me,” Dr. White put his big, scary eyes right up to Artie. “You can either waste time here, and the three of us can share your son, or you can work with me and get us out of here. We have to head out and gather the boys. We can do it, but we must hurry or all the good ones will be taken.”
The phrasing Dr. White used, “the good ones,” got both Bobby and Artie instantly hard again.
“Well, we can’t just go out there,” Artie said. “If we’re gonna do this…if we’re gonna kidnap boys and make them…ours…we can’t just go out like this. Any other dads we come across will kill us.”
“We need muscle,” Bobby said. “And I know just who we can get.”
The three men and the little boy soon arrived at Dante’s cell, and he was just as intimidating as Bobby had made him out to be. At almost seven feet tall and several hundred pounds, the big, black, bald, musclebound prisoner was one mean motherfucker. As they pulled up, his orange jumpsuit already hung at his waist, and his big nigger cock, much thicker than the others they had seen so far in the prison, was raging hard and trying to wedge it’s way through the cell bars. It was too thick.
“He doesn’t speak. He’s mute or something.” Bobby said. Then, under his breathe, “And uh…not real bright. People have said might be retarded or something. But anyone who said that got the shit beat out of him by Dante himself.”
The three men looked at the dark monster pacing his cage silently, like some pedophilic black panther, staring at the little child and stroking his massive brown dong.
“Well, I think we know what we need to do. Let’s test your theory, Dr. White. Owen?” Artie motioned for his son to step forward.
The little boy followed the command, trembling, his terrified eyes still trained on the scary black prisoner.
“Owen, go in there and let that man satisfy himself. We need to talk to him, and you need to calm him down.”
A tear trickled down Owen’s cheek, but then he obediently stepped forward and began to work at the lock. In his obedience he figured it out pretty quickly, and soon the lock released. The door flung open, and two big black arms, as big as baseball bats, reached out, grabbed the tiny white trash child, and pulled him in. Owen was smothered in sweaty black flesh instantly. Turns out Dante wasn’t completely mute. He screamed, groaned and roared like some freakish African monkey-lion hybrid, then took the child and cockwhipped him so hard that Owen could see stars. Our heroic little grade-schooler watches these stars as he’s flipped over onto his back, and his little legs are yanked up roughly, so that the kid’s pretty much just balancing on his neck.
“Uh…careful—“ Artie started. But Dr. White put up a hand to protest.
“NO. You have to let him.”
That shut Artie up, and he went back to not giving a fuck about the welfare of his offspring. It was a good thing, because less than a second later, Owen’s upper intestinal tract was introduced to its first flavor of African Nigger Prison cock. And good lord did it hurt! Somewhere in Owen’s consciousness, he can hear something pop as his legs are pushed back further. All he wants is a kiss, but instead, he’s getting about a foot and a half of raw, skin on skin, nigger dick. Say it with me: "FUCK THAT KID." Now say it out loud, dear reader. Take your cock in your hand and say it. “FUCK THAT KID!” SAY IT! It makes this author so happy to think of you home alone, your perv cock in your hand, reading this story, and saying out loud to no one in particular, “FUCK THAT KID!” You get your wish, you sick dear reader of mine. Fuck and fight are pretty much the only two good things big, dumb, Dante is good at. It’s not quite clear which one he’s doing with Owen. Sure, he’s definitely fucking the kid. His giant gorilla monster of a dick is plunging in and out of the boy’s ruined hole as though he were nothing more than a sack of putty. That’s pretty much what Owen has turned into, anyway. Child guts aren’t meant to take that much prison nigger cock.
But he was also apparently fighting with the boy. Every time he shoves each and every inch of that chocolate pain stick into the boy, he slaps the kid hard across the face. It sounds a-little something like this:
SLAP SLAP SLAP “AGEOIRUAWOIUEOPIRUA” SLAP SLAP SLAP “AGERPIAUAWIOUIOU!!!”
Did I mention that there is also the lovely tinkling sound of Owen’s sobs? The boy is outright, straight-up crying now. He’s still a zombified slut, but even a total desperate cockwhore like him can only take so much. Each thrust of the man is a new rip and tear in his pink little anal ring. Each slap is another shock that brings another round of stars to his field of vision. The fact that he’s in a prison cell getting slapped around by a sick, angry, gorilla nigger, is also factoring in to his tears, but on completely subconscious level.
Finally, it looks like the Nigger Ogre is about to cum. He pulls out of the kid roughly, the head of his cock sticking for a moment and lifting Owen clear off the ground. Then the mushroom head of his cock pops out, literally with a POP, and Owen crashes back down to the ground. He lays there for just a moment, but a moment is all he needs to see something that makes his little heart sink.
Standing outside of the cell are the three men – the strange scientist, his scary new uncle, and his once-beloved Daddy. Are they looking on in concern, worried for the safety of the little child? Are they planning a way to rescue him from the massive monster that is tearing him apart? Are they cowering, afraid of the man, but desperately sad to see the little guy abused in such a way? No. NOT AT ALL. Instead, he sees three grown men, each holding on to the other two mens’ cocks. They are stroking each other wildly, and making out at the same time, all of them still eyeing the scene in the cage. Their cocks are spewing precum so much that there’s a puddle on the floor, and their mouths are wet with spit as they furiously make out. But even with all that work, they are each staring happily at what is happening to Owen.
That’s all Owen gets to see for that moment, though, because pretty soon he feels the big black fist in his hair, pulling him up. He’s too ruined and throbbing to support himself on his legs, but the black guy just lets him hang by his hair, grunting. He starts to stroke his big black dick wit his free hand, pointing his Nigger CockGun straight at Owen’s whimpering face.
Then the first jet hits the boy so hard, if he wasn’t being held up by his hair, he surely would have gone flying across the room. Owen squints his eyes shit and tightens his lips, not wanting any of the Black Prisoner Cum to get in his mouth or eyes.
“OWEN!” Artie barks. “OPEN YOUR MOUTH!” Immediately, the little boy’s mouth is open. The next five ropes of white juice shoot directly from the man’s massive, black nuts straight down the little white boy’s throat. The kid gags and sputters as he’s forced to drink the man’s Nigger seed, but not once does his mouth close.
“AND YOUR EYES!” his Uncle Bobby cries.
Owen lets out an upset wail and moan, but then his eyes are open. The prisoner, being the cruel, abusive, violent offender that he is, takes advantage and squirts two identical jizz shots into each of the boy’s eyes, blinding him with cum once again. What a day Owen is having!
Finally, the silent prisoner is done cumming on the child. The boy looks like a glazed donut, but a little fire has disappeared from the eyes of the child fucker. He now looks calm enough to approach, so Dr. White speaks up to him.
“Dante, listen. You can have that child whenever you want, if you make me a promise. You understand?” Dr. White talked to the man like he was talking to an ape or a retarded child or something. But the man grunted and nodded and smiled.
“Good. You can have him whenever you want, as long as you promise to protect me and the men you see here. No matter what. OK?”
The dumb nigger grunted and smiled again.
“OK. Great. Now we’re gonna let you out. Don’t hurt anyone…except the kid…”
The man grunted once more as they opened the cage door again. Dante reached down and grabbed Owen by the hair and literally dragged the trembling young thing out of the cage and into the prison hallway. The boy couldn’t anything but slide along for the ride.
“OK,” Dr. White said. “We’re almost done. There’s just one more person we need to see.”
Bobby looked at Dr. White with a curious glint in his eye. “You’re not…not really gonna say…” “Oh yes,” Dr. White says. “We’re going to go get the Ice Cream Man.”
THE END