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The boy was sitting on the living room floor, wearing a red long-sleeved shirt— along with a blue and white striped romper with a smiling tiger on the front. He wore blue ruffle booties, and suckled on his pacifier as he colored in his Sesame Street book. He was coloring Elmo blue, which made him giggle because Elmo was red, not blue! He knew his colors really good.
He was in the first grade, but he still wore diapers and suckled on pacifiers. His daddy liked him to wear that stuff, so he did. Using diapers were easier than using the toilet, anyway, because he didn't have to look at his peepee!
His peepee-- or "pussy," as Daddy called it-- made him uncomfortable. He didn't know why, so he didn't think about it too much. He only had to think about it when Daddy touched him there, which he really didn't like.
The boy shifted, feeling his diaper crinkle between his legs. It made him sit with his legs a little wider apart than they would’ve been otherwise, but he didn’t mind.
He heard the front door click, and his heart stopped for a moment, fear coursing through him. He never liked it when Daddy came back from work.
“Baby, I’m home,” his Daddy called from the front door, shutting it. He didn’t turn around, trying to focus on coloring Elmo. His movements were rigid and tiny, and his breath was shallow. If he could stay still, maybe Daddy wouldn’t see him.
“Hey.” He jumped, freezing, as his Daddy appeared right next to him. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“Hi,” he said, locking eyes with his Daddy, trying really hard to mask his fear. He forced a smile at his Daddy through his pacifier, his mouth quivering.
Daddy’s eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing. He snatched the pacifier out of the boy’s mouth, and the boy gasped.
“You don’t look very happy to see me.” He stood to his full height, crossing his arms and glaring down at the boy.
The boy whimpered, “No! I’m happy to see you.” He smiled wider, waving at his Daddy. Trying anything so he’ll just leave him alone and stop talking to him.
“Okay. Prove it.” Daddy sat on the couch with a grunt, patting his lap. “Come here. Show me how much you missed me.”
The boy very much did not want to do that. But if he didn’t…
He gulped down his fear, feeling it settle tightly in his belly, and stood and waddled over to his Daddy. He knew what was coming and was willing the tears in his eyes to just go away already.
He stood in front of Daddy, too afraid to move any closer. His heart pounded in his ears. Daddy scoffed and pulled him into his lap roughly, his diaper crinkling loudly as he yelped. “Don’t act so scared. Why are you so scared of me?”
The boy settled on his lap, his padded bottom pressing against Daddy’s crotch. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He tried really really hard, even pressing his hands against his eyes to try to get the tears back in there.
He felt Daddy’s grip on him tighten, “Why the hell are you crying?” He barked at him, and the boy jumped again and put his hands over his mouth to muffle his cries. His heart pounded harder in his chest, and a sick feeling stirred in his belly as his Daddy started to grind him down on his crotch.
“That’s better. You shut the fuck up.” His daddy huffed in his ear, making a shiver roll down the boy’s spine, his skin erupting into goosebumps. He felt his body being jerked back and forth over his Daddy’s clothed cock, and his mind filled with static.
Maybe if he tried to imagine being somewhere else. Being on a rocking horse. His mommy had gotten him one before she left, and he would always watch Sesame Street while rocking back and forth on it. He focused his entire being on imagining himself back there.
Rocking back and forth. Back and forth. His eyes glued to the TV in glee as Elmo talked to him and laughed with him and made funny jokes. He could almost see the light from the TV in the dim room and smell the eggs his mom was making.
His Daddy grabbed the front of his diaper and began rubbing him there.
He was yanked back to reality as his breath hitched, pleasure tingling in his peepee, and he sobbed harder into his hands. He didn’t want it to feel good! That body part wasn’t supposed to be there!
His heart dropped when he was lifted off his Daddy, and his romper was torn off him. The buttons on the front were undone, and Daddy pushed the boy onto the couch to yank the bottom half off of his legs. He cried out, trying to cover the tapes of the diaper so Daddy couldn’t tear them off.
His hands were grabbed hard and maneuvered behind his back in an awkward angle. His face was smothered into the couch. It hurt, and now his Daddy could hear all his cries, which made him cry even harder. He clamped his mouth shut as hard as he could as the tapes were ripped off, and the diaper was yanked off him, leaving his butt exposed.
Daddy pulled him up off the couch and back onto his lap. He thrashed, wanting badly to cover himself. Don’t look! Don’t look at him! But Daddy was already forcing his hand between his thighs and rubbing his boycunt, making his hair stand on end with sickness.
“You’re going to listen to me.” Daddy held his hands so tightly behind his back it made his wrists throb. “I’m going to let your hands loose, and you will not try to stop me or cover yourself. Or I will break every single one of your fucking fingers, so you really won’t be able to use them anymore.”
The boy whimpered through his teeth as his Daddy let go of his throbbing hands, and he clasped them tight over his mouth.
“Yeah, let your Daddy molest your little body.” Daddy hooked one of his hands under the boy’s knees, drawing them up towards his chest. The boy screeched in his throat, the static getting louder and hurting.
“Show off your little pussy, just like that.” Daddy rubbed his clit hard, sinking one of his fingers into him.
The boy lurched forward. “No! Please!” No! No! It hurt so much when Daddy did that!
The hand holding his knee went for the boy’s face and grabbed it roughly, turning him towards Daddy. His lips were pressed against Daddy’s, his tongue forcing its way into his little mouth. He sobbed into his Daddy’s mouth, not liking the wet hot tongue invading him. His Daddy groaned, pumping one finger in and out of his peepee.
The boy couldn’t help but cry.
It burned, morphing his body into nothing but torture. Tearing at him from the inside. He wanted it out! His breaths came in short and fast, his muscles tensing from the pain. Fear coiled in his belly as he thought of what might come next, after the finger. He wailed, and Daddy broke the kiss.
“What the fuck did I tell you about crying?!” A hard slap to his face, rattling his brain and making the static cover him completely. His throat closed, the sobs getting trapped in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Open your eyes!” Daddy screamed at him. He snapped them open. “Look at your pussy as I finger it. Look at how wet it is. Do you know what being wet means?”
The boy couldn’t see. His leg was lifted back up, forcing his genitals exposed. His eyes were open, and he was looking down at the boycunt as someone pumped their finger in and out of it, but he couldn’t see it. He watched as the hand vigorously fingered the pussy, covered in slick. Then it stopped and pulled out.
“Answer me.” The hand came closer, showing how wet it was. "Do you know what this means?" The boy felt himself shake his head no. The hand breached his mouth, but he couldn’t taste anything, or feel anything. He heard himself choke on the fingers.
The voice was very close to his ear. “It means you like it.”
Who? Who likes what?
The boy watched as the hand went back down to the pussy and rubbed it. It slid a finger back inside, a little easier from the spit.
“It means you like getting your pussy stuffed by your own father.” Another finger was added, and the boy felt a slight burn, somewhere far away. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re lucky I put up with this shit.”
The fingers suddenly stopped. The boy’s face was grabbed and turned towards a pair of eyes. “Hey. Wake up. Don’t start dissociating yet, bitch. I want you fully aware when I rape this pussy.”
A slap across the face, then on his peepee. He cried out. A punch to his stomach, and to his chest. He sobbed and folded over. It all hurt so much. He wanted to crawl out of his skin.
The boy was lifted up, off the couch, and held in his Daddy’s arms. “Let’s go someplace more comfy, baby.”
He sobbed into his hands, his heart pounding hard. He didn’t want it! He didn’t want to go to the bedroom!
Daddy patted him on his butt, sending chills down his spine. He wanted to jerk away.
The boy was thrown onto Daddy’s bed with a yelp. The room was dark and cold and smelled musky. There was trash littered all over the floor, and the sheets of the nasty mattress were nearly falling off. The boy shook violently, wanting to curl up in the sheets to hide, hide.
Daddy approached the bed. The boy yelped when his shirt was torn off him roughly, leaving him completely naked except for his booties. His skin felt like ice as his Daddy’s gaze roamed over him. He felt less than human. Like a thing to use and throw away.
Daddy got his penis out. The boy felt a wave of nausea hit him, and he willed himself to not vomit.
Daddy started stroking his penis, grunting. The boy covered his mouth again as he started to cry, feeling the eyes pierce through his body, watching, invading him without ever touching. Turning him into something he’ll never escape from.
A victim.
“Get over here. You wanted to show me how much you missed me, right?” The boy felt another wave of sickness roll through his body as he forced his muscles to cooperate and move. He knelt in front of his Daddy’s cock, knowing what he was going to be forced to do.
Daddy let go of his cock, and the boy grimaced as it hit his face, smearing pre-cum all over his skin. “Suck it for me. You know how to do it.”
The boy closed his eyes and slowly opened his mouth, tasting the gross pre-cum on his tongue. He almost gagged, but kept going. He breathed deep. He could do this.
It was like following the rules at school. You have to do one thing, and you can’t do another. And you need to follow the rules, or else you’ll get punished. He has to cooperate, and he can’t cry.
He wrapped his lips around the tip, his hands squeezing his thighs tightly. Daddy chuckled and said, “Hmm. If you make me cum in the next two minutes, I won’t rape you.”
The boy didn’t know the exact meaning of the word rape, but from how many times his Daddy had said it while putting his penis in him, he could connect the two. His eyes opened and widened, and he started to suck harder, like he had been taught to. He fought the violent urge to vomit.
His Daddy groaned, and the boy knew that meant he was feeling good. He furrowed his brow and used his tongue, desperate. His Daddy chuckled. “Yeah, you’re so eager for Daddy’s cum down your throat, aren’t you?”
The boy shuddered, but he nodded his head yes, knowing Daddy would like that. His daddy groaned louder, gripping his hair tightly and forcing his cock deeper.
The boy gagged violently as the cock pistoned against the back of the throat, and he vomited, the nasty liquid smearing over the cock and falling down his chin. It burned and hurt really bad. He wailed and screamed, but most of it was muffled or gurgled.
Daddy groaned even louder and forced his cock to the back of his throat, holding it there. The boy’s eyes widened as he struggled, unable to breathe. He couldn’t breathe! Help! He coughed and sputtered and hit Daddy’s legs as his chest burned for air. He suddenly didn’t care if he could make Daddy cum; he wanted to survive.
“Take all of Daddy. That’s it, baby.” Daddy’s cock finally left his mouth, and the boy coughed and heaved and tried to spit out the bile in his mouth.
“Fucking disgusting!” A kick in his side made him double over and heave, clutching himself. He was grabbed by the elbow and tossed further onto the mattress, like a toy. His daddy leaned over him, big and encompassing.
“Good job, baby. You made me cum in less than two minutes.” Daddy caressed the boy’s cheek.
The boy gasped. He did it! Pride and relief swelled in his chest, his body able to relax for the first time since they started. Fresh tears rolled down his face in joy. “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!”
His daddy chuckled. His hand moved down the boy’s neck, running over his chest and nipples. The boy squirmed, confused and uncomfortable. When was he allowed to get back to coloring? And put his clothes back on?
When Daddy’s hand cupped his peepee again, he jolted, panic seizing him. He didn’t understand! “Daddy, no! You— you said—“
“I said I wouldn’t rape you.” Daddy circled the boy’s clit, making him tense. “Do you know what rape means, sweetie?”
The boy started to shake again. How stupid of him. He just assumed he knew what rape was. “N-no…”
Daddy rubbed at his tdick a little faster, making his breath hitch at the sharp, twisted pleasure. “Well, rape is when you have sex when you don’t want it. And by the looks of it…” Daddy spread his boycunt wide, making his stomach coil in disgust. “You want my cock stuffed up your little pussy.”
“No! No!” The boy cried, thrashing against his daddy’s hold. “I don’ wan’ it! I—“
Another slap to the face. “Are you a fucking idiot?! Do you not remember what I told you?!”
The boy’s breath hitched, and his mind scrambled. For anything. Dang it! What did his daddy tell him? His face scrunched, and he sobbed, as he thought and thought. “I—I dunno!”
“Stupid bitch. I said,” Daddy rubbed at his boycunt then showed his fingers to him, “when you’re this wet, it means you want it.”
The boy’s heart plummeted into his stomach, a dark fear leeching into his bones and holding him in place. He couldn’t breathe.
He… wanted it?
Were the bad feelings his fault?
His eyes widened as he started to sob in fervor again. Shame scorched at his skin.
“Yeah, baby. I know.” His daddy patted his pussy gently. “It’s hard to admit when you want something like this.”
He started to wail, but Daddy pressed a hand against his mouth. “That’s enough crying. If you really need to let out those disgusting sounds, do it into my hand.”
The boy felt a small amount of relief at that. At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping his sobs down.
Daddy pressed a finger inside him, and he groaned at the pain. “You should be thankful I’m fingering you. It would hurt a lot more if I didn’t.”
It would hurt more? The boy sobbed into his Daddy’s hand, holding onto it for dear life. “C’mon, baby, spread those legs for me.”
The boy felt the blanket of static start to form as he did as he was told, his thighs quivering from the strength it took not to close them.
Daddy pumped his finger in and out of him, making the boy squirm in disgust. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped tighter onto the calloused hand covering his mouth as Daddy added another finger.
In and out. Like a piston that had no concern of the thing it was entering; it just went. It didn’t matter how much it hurt or burned or tried to push it out, it always forced its way back in. The rhythm of the action made the static settle easier, encasing his mind in its fuzzy grip.
He could see out of the corner of his eye his Daddy stroking his cock in time with his thrusts, and he felt like he should’ve had a bigger reaction, but he didn’t.
He could feel himself slipping deeper, into the ground. He was being buried. He felt such disgust towards himself. What kind of boy wants to do these things with his Daddy? There must be something wrong with him.
He was not a good boy.
More tears flowed out of his eyes at the thought. He wanted desperately to be good. For his daddy, for everyone. But he’d failed. All because of his shameful desires.
The fingers sped up, and they hit a spot that sent a jolt of sharp pleasure through him. No! He didn’t want it to feel good!
Daddy’s fingers stopped, then pulled out, and the boy sighed in relief. Maybe.. that was it? Maybe Daddy got bored or saw how much the boy was liking it and got disgusted and wanted to stop.
The hand covering his mouth left, and the boy whimpered as Daddy started to remove his own clothes. He took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor, then unbuckled his belt.
The boy tensed, looking at the wall and staring at the calendar hung up. It had dogs on it, a golden shepherd specifically for this month, and it was laying on a bed of grass, looking cute. The boy wanted to pet the dog and tell it how good it was.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Daddy shoving his jeans off, then taking his underwear off. The boy shivered, keeping his eyes locked on the dog, thinking of things they could play and do together.
“Open up, bitch,” Daddy said, looming over him, his underwear in hand. He grabbed the boy’s jaw as he started to back away, then shoved the underwear into his mouth. The boy gagged and tried to spit it out as the disgusting taste of sweat and musk filled his mouth, but Daddy punched him in the face.
“Keep it in.” The boy nodded as hot pain pierced through his face and head, feeling dizzy. He didn’t even notice Daddy going to the bedside drawer and taking something out.
Something hard pressed against his clit, and he jolted, yelping into the underwear. He looked down and saw a strange device with a big piece at the end of it which was touching him.
“This was your mother’s. She always complained about how strong it was; guess we’ll have to see how you like it.” A grin crept on Daddy’s face, and the boy whimpered. A hand gripped his hip, keeping him firmly in place as his shaking hands gripped the bedsheets.
He was scared. How badly was it going to hurt?
Then— it turned on. The boy yelped at the sensation stabbing through him, trying to escape it, but the hand kept him trapped. He sobbed into the underwear. His heart pounded in his ears as horrific pleasure coursed through him, making his muscles spasm.
He could feel something barreling towards him. His eyes widened as he realized what it was. His hands found his hair and pulled, hard, anything to distract from the pleasure being ripped from him.
The sounds of his sobbing and the vibration against his clit overwhelmed him. His nose was blocked off from how much he had been crying, so he had to heave through his mouth, which was hard because of the underwear stuffed into it. His head swam from lack of oxygen.
“Are you going to cum? How disgusting.” The device let out stronger vibrations, and the boy screamed. “What kind of kid gets off from their dad? How fucked up are you?”
The boy covered his eyes with his hands, wailing once again. The feeling was getting closer, more powerful. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth, hard, as sudden pleasure erupted from his genitals, radiating through his body. His muscles tightened, and his lungs were squeezed as the waves coursed through him.
It felt good.
He scratched at his face hard at the realization as the pleasure slowly ebbed away, and the device was taken off of him. He was panting, hands shaking. Shame burned him.
“You liked it that much, huh? You’re soaked, baby.” Daddy’s hand cupped his crotch, and he jerked away from it from overstimulation.
Then he felt something else hard touch him, something hot. His eyes flew open, and Daddy’s cock was pressing against him. It was slick and grinded up against his boycunt. A pit formed in the boy’s stomach, and he quickly turned to look away.
“You love Daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” The cock pressed against him harder, humping the outside of his pussy. Nausea coiled in the boy’s stomach. He didn’t want it.
Daddy’s cock pressed more insistently at his peepee, and the boy tensed, yelling and shaking his head no.
Please. Someone save him. Anyone.
Nobody would.
A blinding hot pain stabbed in his genitals as Daddy’s cock forced inside. His daddy groaned loudly, and he screamed. He kicked, punched, twisted and thrashed, but it didn’t matter.
NO!
Like a piston. It kept going.
NO!
It was ripping him apart. Tearing him in half into two people that would never resemble the kid they were before. It carved and carved, creating an abyss the boy would always be stuck with, for the rest of his life.
PLEASE!
His lungs seized. Time stood still, but the cock did not stop. Against the walls that desperately tried to keep it out, it pushed. And pushed. And pushed.
Until it hit a wall it could not force through. And the boy was completely filled.
Invaded. Infected. Every inch of his skin was no longer his. A parasite was gnawing at him, its razor sharp teeth cutting through flesh.
The static came back slowly, filling his head as the cock dragged out of his boycunt. A metallic stench permeated the air, and the boy cried.
“You’re so damn tight. I can feel you clenching down on me.” Daddy licked at one of his nipples, and it was infected there, too.
Like a savior, static coated the rest of his mind, glazing over him. Everything dulled. He felt his body being jolted back and forth. Being taken from him. He didn’t care anymore.
His daddy said something, but it fell on deaf ears. The boy looked at the golden retriever, and he could feel himself laying next to it. Could feel its soft fur against his hands.
There was a stinging pain in his lower region, and he could hear the creaking of the bed as Daddy got rougher. His hands touched him everywhere, leaving not a speck of skin pure.
God, it hurt.
The boy didn’t understand. Why his Daddy was doing this to him. Why it hurt so much. Why he was supposed to want it. Why it sometimes felt good. Why him?
The cock was pounding into his pussy, now. It made squelching noises due to the blood that coated it. It hit that special spot, and the boy sobbed.
“It feels good, right, baby?” His daddy rubbed his clit in time with his thrusts, and the boy’s body seized. “Daddy hurting you.”
He shook his head no, and the thrusts suddenly stopped. He could feel his daddy’s cock throb inside of him. He wanted to die.
“No? Aww, baby,” his daddy said. “We’ll fix that.”
Something familiar pressed against his clit. The boy shrieked and shook his head no. It didn’t matter.
The vibrations shook his core, and Daddy started moving again. He punched as hard as his little body would let him, his muscles exhausted.
His hands were grabbed and held above his head tightly. The vibrator was tossed to the side. Daddy looked at him with eyes that made his heart plummet. “You want me to rape your little butt while I’m at it, too?”
His heart pounded faster, and he shook his head no rapidly, feeling sobs start to bubble in his chest again. Not there! Never there, again!
“Then you better stop,” a punch to his face, “fucking,” a punch to his chest, “moving.” And a punch to his stomach.
Pain throbbed through his body. He nodded, but Daddy didn’t let go of his hands. Daddy pressed the vibrator back up against him and started thrusting his cock again, groaning.
He turned on the device, and the boy’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He couldn’t breathe. His legs shook violently outside of his accord. Pleasure trickled into the sea of pain.
It was TOO MUCH.
“We aren’t stopping until you cum, bitch.” Daddy repositioned himself and then sped up his thrusts, abusing that special spot.
The boy screeched as the spot was hit over and over, and he felt a familiar tug in his bladder. He tried to signal to Daddy, tried to yell and tell him to stop. STOP! But it didn’t matter.
Daddy turned up the vibrations. The boy wailed as he tried so hard to keep his bladder shut. He failed, and pee started spurting out of him against his will, all over himself and his daddy’s cock.
“Shit, baby.” He went rougher, now. “You like squirting all over Daddy’s cock, huh?”
The smell of piss along with blood stung in the boy’s nose, and his face burned in humiliation and shame. He couldn’t stop peeing, now. He could feel his pee run down his thighs, mixing with the blood, onto his butt, and then the mattress. He squirmed as he could feel the pee being fucked back into him as it coated on Daddy’s cock, then thrusted into his pussy.
His clit throbbed at the harsh, insistent vibrations, pleasure cutting through his genitals. He panted hard as he could feel the familiar sensation run towards him again, somehow. It built up in the bottom of his belly, boiling alongside the shame that had made its home there. He didn’t want it.
He cried into the underwear stuffed in his mouth. He just wanted to color. And watch Sesame Street. And play with his friends.
His body froze as his orgasm was taken from him. His throat closed, his back arching high, his pussy clenching hard. More pee spurted out of him. Pleasure shot through him like lightning, burning him.
But the device did not leave. And the thrusts did not stop. He thrashed in his daddy’s hold as he was overstimulated. He screamed. Please! He wanted it to stop!
“Shh. Let Daddy cum in your pussy.” His daddy groaned loudly as his thrusts became more erratic, and he finally abandoned the vibrator to grab onto the boy’s hip to pull him back onto him.
“Fuck, you’re such a whore.” His body was limp, immensely relived the device was gone, but the words sank in deep. “Stupid slut. Begging for it. Begging to be raped.”
The boy didn’t understand. Was this rape? But Daddy had said it wasn’t. His mind couldn’t possibly wrap itself around what all these words meant.
“You run around in those clothes, throwing yourself onto every man you meet. But you can’t help how fucking delicious your body is, can you?
“Disgusting. I should tell everyone at your school how much of a whore you are.” The boy shook his head no at the suggestion, his yells muffled. “I’ll tell everyone how you have a pussy. That’ll be sure to get the boys’ attention.”
He sobbed at his Daddy’s words. No! If his friends knew, they would hate him!
“We could get that little boy you’ve been hanging around to— ngh— come over for a playdate.” His daddy’s thrusts got harder, his skin slapping against the boy’s, leaving bruises. “I’ll tell him you have a pussy, and then leave you two alone in your— fuck— room. Any man will rape anything with a pussy, you know?”
The boy was stark still, fear and panic coiling in his guts. His friend wouldn’t do that, right?
“Let Daddy cum in your pussy,” Daddy slammed his cock into his pussy a few more times, before stilling.
NO! NO! NO!
Disgust shot through the boy as he felt something hot and liquidy spill itself deep in his pussy. He wanted it out. He whimpered.
Another parasite. Leeching at him. Darkness swirled in the boy’s chest. Daddy grinded against him a few times before finally pulling out.
The boy winced at the air hitting his boycunt. It felt like a chasm had opened and would never close again. Raw, burning. He felt empty, like his entire being had been carved out of him. Everything hurt.
Something was trickling out of him, and he shook as he realized what it was. He almost didn’t notice how Daddy had released his hands and was kneeling in front of him with his phone. What was he doing?
“I’m getting evidence. Of how much of a whore you are.” The boy flinched at the word, wanting desperately to close his legs but unable to find the strength to do so.
His body lay limp, as if he were being pressed down onto the mattress by a two-ton weight. He stared at the dark ceiling. The underwear was ripped out of his mouth, and he sputtered.
“Get yourself cleaned up. I’m going out tonight.” Then Daddy left. And it was just the boy, lying in the dark on the mattress that was stained with blood and piss and cum. The golden shepherd on the calendar looked at him in disgust.
He felt nothing.