Hard core stories for the hard core. These stories are all fantasies and should not be taken as portraying either the actions or the inclinations of those individuals appearing in the accompanying photos or gifs. All photos and gifs are reblogs. If you want a post or photo of or about you deleted, please let me know and I will delete it.
It was happening again. Petey's step-dad was whaling the hell out of Petey’s ass while the teenager had a fresh bar of Dove soap wedged in his mouth. And Petey hated it, just like he hated his step-dad.
The first time it happened, Petey couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was standing naked, in the bathroom, a bar of soap wedged up his mouth, while his step-dad spanked the shit out of his tender boy-ass. It was so humiliating, so embarrassing, having to keep the soap in his mouth as the man whaled away at his butt. And the spanking hurt, too, like it always did. But as painful and degrading as being spanked was, Petey knew what was coming next would be much worse. He knew his step-dad was going to fuck him, fuck Petey’s tight little boy-hole with his big, hard Man-cock. He always did after he spanked Petey. He always did. All Petey could hope was that the man wouldn’t make him keep the soap bar in his mouth while he fucked him. But he always did that, too. He made Petey keep the bar in his mouth the whole time he fucked him, the whole time his step-dad reamed out his step-son’s teenage fuck-hole. And now the bar of soap was back in Petey’s mouth and Petey was getting another spanking and Petey knew he’d have to keep it there while the man fucked him, too. And Petey hated that, he absolutely hated that. And he hated his step-dad, too. He hated Dwayne with a passion. He hated the man’s guts.
It had never been all that great, but Petey’s life had certainly gone downhill in the last six months, ever since his mom had married Dwayne. Dwayne had been all chummy and friendly while he’d been dating his mom, treating Petey like a younger brother. He still was the same whenever Petey’s mom was around. But the moment she left for work in the morning, all that changed. Dwayne didn’t treat Petey like a younger brother - he treated him like a bitch, like a faggot cum-slut.
And it had started the very first day after Dwayne and his mom had returned from their honeymoon. His mom’s car was still pulling out of the parking lot when Dwayne stormed into Petey’s room, yanked the covers off the boy, and proceeded to rape the hell out of him over and over again, all day long. By the time his mom got back home in the early evening, Petey’s boy-hole looked like some old whore’s ravaged cunt, gaping open, uncontrollably dribbling gob after gob of Dwayne’s disgusting ball-slime. Dwayne had warned Petey not to say anything to his mother, warned him what would happen to the boy if he did. But as it was, the warning wasn’t needed. Petey was far too humiliated and shamed by what had transpired in his bedroom to even hint about it to anyone he knew.
Any hope that Petey might have nurtured that the events that first day were some type of aberration disappeared as soon as his mother left for work the next morning when Dwayne again stormed into the boy’s bedroom and began raping him all over again. If anything, the assault was even more vicious and brutal than the first day's. And that pretty much set the pattern for every day his mother went to work.
Though in time the sheer number of assaults Petey had to submit to on a daily basis decreased as fucking the boy lost some of its original thrill for his step-dad, they never lessened in intensity or brutality. Dwayne seemed to go out of his way to make every fuck as painful and degrading as possible. And when he wasn’t actively fucking or otherwise sexually abusing the boy, he made Petey work virtually non-stop doing all the house work around the apartment - scrubbing floors, doing laundry, cooking, basically keeping the apartment spotless - so that when his mother came home from work she would invariably compliment Dwayne on what a great job he was doing around the house.
Whenever his mother was at work, Petey was never allowed to wear more than a pair of multi-colored underpants, though Wayne frequently required the boy to spend the day totally naked for his own amusement and Petey’s embarrassment. But even if he was wearing his underwear, or his ‘panties’ as Petey was required to refer to them, scarcely a day went by when Petey wasn’t subjected to a brutal spanking for some infraction, real or imagined. Yesterday, he hadn’t emptied the vacuum cleaner after he was finished. Today, he had inadvertently complained that his ‘asshole was so sore’ when Wayne raised his legs to fuck him for the third time in less than four hours.
This was something Wayne considered to be a major offense since Petey had been repeatedly instructed that, unless his mother was in the room, he was always to refer to his asshole as his ‘boycunt,’ his nipples as his ‘tits,’ his cock as his ‘boy-clit’ and his mouth as his ‘mouth-pussy.’ Petey had at first resisted referring to his own body parts is such a degrading and feminizing manner, but repeated ass-thrashings had ultimately broken his resistance and he had actually begun to see his asshole as a boycunt and his nipples as tits. And, as far as Petey’s boy-clit was concerned, he hadn’t even touched it in over a month, not since Dwayne threatened to cut it off if he ever caught Petey pleasuring himself again.
Still, Petey did occasionally slip up, as he had earlier today. And whenever he did, Dwayne never failed to punish the boy for his mistake. The standard punishment for this mistake, which Wayne treated as particularly egregious, was to make Petey open up a fresh bar of soap and hold it in his mouth until such time as Dwayne gave him permission to remove it. And then Dwayne would spank him and fuck him with the boy’s cries and moans muffled by the foul-tasting bar of Dove soap stuffed into his mouth-pussy.
That was exactly what was happening to Petey again, he was getting his poor boy-ass blistered while he held a bar of Dove soap in his mouth, his saliva mixing with the soap and causing a continuous drip of stomach-turning soap suds to slither down his throat. And even as the boy struggled to keep from throwing up, he knew that soon, once Dwayne’s got tired of spanking him, his step-dad would move on to fucking him, fucking him like a bitch the way he did multiple times every day. As each day passed, Petey felt more and more trapped, more and more condemned to spend the foreseeable future as his own step-dad’s pathetic fuck-bitch. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, in the last couple of months, he’d been serving not only as his step-dad’s fuck-bitch but as the fuck-whore for an ever-growing number of total strangers.
Dwayne and Petey’s mother had been married in June and, as his summer of unrelenting physical and sexual abuse continued, Petey had, for the first time in his life, looked forward to the start of the school year. But when the day finally rolled around and Petey actually got dressed to go to school, Dwayne angrily stopped him at the front door. "Where the fuck do you think you’re going, boy?” he demanded to know.
“To school, sir,” Petey answered, trying not to show the fear that Dwayne’s anger never failed to instill in him. "It's the first day of my senior year.”
“Well, you can forget that shit, boy,” Dwayne responded with heat. "You've got work to do around this apartment, to say nothing of taking care of my needs. Besides, school is just be wasted on a dumb ass like you. Hell, boy, they held you back for a year because you're so slow; they're just keeping you warehoused until you graduate. You're old enough to quit school whenever you want, so they're not going to be worried if you don't show up. Face facts, boy. You're only good for one thing and we both know what that is - bending over and taking my hard dick up your boycunt. So get out of those clothes. Now, boy. Right now. You ain't going to school today.”
It was true that Petey had been required to repeat the third grade in elementary school, but that was because he suffered from dyslexia, a condition that hadn't been diagnosed until he was in fifth grade. And while Petey was already eighteen and could quit school, he wanted to graduate. He figured he needed at least a high school diploma if he wanted to make anything of himself. Missing the first day of classes senior year was the last thing Petey wanted to do. But Petey had already learned that arguing with his step-father was one sure way of getting an all-out ass-thrashing. So, reluctantly, Petey stripped down to his ‘panties’ right there in the living room. Dwayne walked up to the boy, reached out and gave the teenager’s right nipple a vicious twist, causing Petey to squeal in pain. "You need to be taught a lesson, boy, and I’m just the Man to do it. Go get me the paddle, the one with the holes in it, the one you hate so much, the one that makes you cry like a little girl.”
“Oh, please, sir. Please," Petey pleaded. "Not the paddle. I'm sorry, sir. I'm really sorry. I won’t go to school if you don’t want me to. I won’t. I won’t. Just don’t use the paddle on my ass, sir. Please don’t use the paddle on my ass - not the one with holes in it, sir.”
“Oh, stop your whining, boy, and get the paddle like I told you to. I'm the only teacher you need and I’m about to teach you a lesson you won’t be forgetting any time soon.”
Trying hard not to cry, Petey went and retrieved the dreaded paddle and then lowered himself over Dwayne’s ass. Petey hated crying while he was getting paddled or spanked - it made him feel like such a wuss, such a little girl - but the way Dwayne pounded his ass that day had Petey bawling his eyes out in less than five minutes. Petey didn’t think he’d ever be able to sit down again and the fuck the man threw into the boy after he’d finished blistering the teenager’s ass was one of the worse ever. By the time it was over, Petey’s pussy and his ass both felt as if they’d been dipped in liquid fire.
Dwayne warned Petey not to tell his mother than he hadn’t gone to school so when his mom asked him how his first day back had gone, he simply said, “Fine,” and left it at that. The next morning, Petey didn’t make the mistake of getting dressed for school. Instead, he asked Dwayne first if he could go to school.
“Boy,” the man replied, “I thought I made myself clear yesterday. You're done going to school. You've got all the education a pussy-bitch like you will ever need. Now, drop your panties and bend over. I've got a boner that’s got your name on it.” Knowing he didn’t have any other choice, Petey did as he was told.
For the next two weeks, Petey didn’t bother trying to go to school. He knew that Dwayne wouldn’t let him go and was sure to punish Petey if he pressed the matter. He just hoped that either the school would investigate his absence or that his mother would find out that he hadn’t been going to school. Dwayne had already made it clear that Petey wasn’t to say anything to her about not going to school and Petey was too terrified of the man to cross him, but Petey was sure that if she did somehow find out - and she had to eventually, didn’t she - she’d override Dwayne’s objections and let Petey go back to school, finish his senior year, and graduate with the rest of his class.
But, two months ago, all of Petey’s hopes came crashing down around him. He had just put on the t-shirt and shorts that Dwayne always let him wear when his mother was at home, when he heard Dwayne shout in an angry voice, “Petey, come in here. We need to talk.”
Scared, not knowing what was going on, Petey hurried to the living room where Dwayne and his mom were sitting on the couch, his mother crying as she held a piece of paper in her hand. Seeing his mom crying, Petey forgot all about his own fears for a moment. "What's wrong, mom?’ he asked. "What's wrong?”
His mother looked up at him, the tears just flowing down her face. "Oh, Petey,” she cried. "How could you? How could you?”
Stunned, Petey replied, “How could I what, mom? How could I what? What's going on?”
His mother started to reply but Dwayne cut her off. "We'd agreed I’d handle this, Margie. Let me handle it.” Then, taking the piece of paper from his wife’s hand and handing it to Petey, he demanded, “How do you explain this, boy?”
His hand shaking, Petey looked down at the document he was holding. It was a notice to Petey’s parents from the vice-principal of his high school that Petey was being expelled from school for fighting, using drugs on school property, and sexually assaulting a female classmate. "This isn’t true,” Petey declared in a shaking voice. "This can’t be true. You know that, Dwayne. You know this can’t be true.”
“What I know, boy,” Dwayne responded with fire in his eye, “is that when I called your school and asked about all this, they told me that not only was every word on that piece of paper true but that it was only the tip of the iceberg. The principal told me that the only reason you weren’t in jail right now was that the girl you assaulted refused to press charges. He said that if you were his son, he knew exactly how he’d discipline you. And I do, too, boy. So you just drop your shorts - and your underpants, too - and get over my lap. You need to be punished, boy. And I’m gonna do it the way my old man punished me, with a good old-fashioned bare-assed spanking.”
“Mom?” Petey said, turning to her in appeal.
But any hope that Petey had that she might intervene was quickly shot down when she said, “We talked it over, Petey, and we both agreed that you needed to be punished and your step-father assured me that this would be the best way to do it, the best way to impress upon you the seriousness of what you’ve done.”
“But, Mom,” Petey began to protest, before Dwayne cut him off by grabbing his arm and spinning him around so that he was facing his step-dad. "I gave you an order, boy,” Dwayne growled at him. "You're only making things worse for yourself by arguing.”
Petey looked at his step-dad and saw that beneath the anger on the surface of his face, Dwayne was actually amused by Petey’s predicament, amused by the boy’s imminent humiliation. And, realizing that the whole scene had been pre-set by his step-dad and that it was pointless to prolong the inevitable, Petey slowly pushed his shorts down his legs and then followed them with his ‘panties.’ Then, bare-assed like his step-dad wanted him, all too aware that he was completely naked in front of his own mother, Petey crawled over Dwayne’s lap just as he had so many times before.
Petey had been spanked numerous times during the previous three months and his boy-ass was always sore. And he expected that Dwayne would really go to town on his butt, considering his ostensible justification for spanking Petey. But his step-dad surprised him. While the spanking was hard, it was nowhere near as brutal as Petey had come to expect. It was only later that Petey figured out that the reason for this was not any concern for the boy, it was to impress his mother with Dwayne’s ‘moderation.’
But if the pain was considerably less than Petey had gotten used to, the humiliation was actually greater because while Dwayne was spanking Petey’s ass with his right hand, he was stroking and fondling Petey’s boy-clit into a full, straining erection with his left hand. Petey's mortification was complete when, after the spanking was over, Dwayne made the boy stand up, turn around to face his mother and apologize to her, keenly aware the entire time he sobbed out his apology that his erection was jutting straight out from his naked groin. It was the most humiliating moment of Petey’s life, and he ran crying to his room when it was finally over.
Petey stayed in his bedroom the rest of the evening, too ashamed to show his face. He was not surprised the next morning when, after his mother had left for work, Dwayne barged into his room and gave him a spanking that made up for all the brutality that Petey’s public ass-tanning had lacked and then followed it with a vicious cunting-out that left the boy gasping in pain. But no sooner had Dwayne heaved his sweating body off the boy than he ordered Petey to get into the shower and clean himself up, explaining that “your first customer will be here in half-an-hour and I want you to make a good impression on him.”
When Petey gave his step-dad a quizzical look the man laughed at him. "Yeah, boy, I’m putting you to work doing the only thing you’re good for - taking dick up your boytwat. I figure a young bitch like you can handle four or five cuntings–out by paying customers every day. Course, I can’t book any customers on weekends when your mother’s home but don’t worry, boy. I got you a job in a strip club working Friday and Saturday nights. The manager assures me you’ll be able to handle at least half-a-dozen customers in the back-room both nights. Now get your ass in the shower, bitch. And don’t forget to clean your pussy.” Too numb to even voice an objection, Petey just did as he was told. An hour later, Petey was squealing on his bed as his first paying customer, the vice-principal of his high school, made himself at home in the teenager’s pussy and gave the boy a real good fucking, too.
All that was two months ago and since then Petey’s been whored out three or four times every day. Between his own bedroom and the back room of the strip club, to say nothing of the ‘house-calls’ he now makes every Sunday, Petey couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how many loads of ball-slime he’s taken up his pussy and down his throat, but he figures it’s got to be close to 500. His pussy is sore all the time now and his boy-tits, which his various customers seem to particularly enjoy molesting, seem to be permanently swollen to over twice their original size. And at times his ass hurts so much from repeated spankings that it’s all he can do to keep from crying while he’s sitting down and eating dinner with his mother and Dwayne.
Petey’s mother seems completely oblivious to what her husband is doing to her boy. Dwayne told her that he managed to get Petey a job as a handyman’s assistant, working for one of his friends. Dwayne explained that, while the work is hard and the boy has to work long hours, frequently at night, the pay is really good, particularly for a boy like Petey with no real skills. His mother doesn’t see any reason to question Dwayne’s assurances, particularly since Petey now has a bank account earmarked for his further education with more than $5,000 in it.
But while the account does exist and it has more than $5,000 in it, the account is actually in Dwayne’s name and Dwayne has no intention of ever letting Petey go back to school - he’s making way too much money off the boy’s pussy to even consider that. In any event, the account represents only a small fraction of the money Petey’s boycunt is bringing in, since Dwayne deposits only $25 for every session the boy works, though he’s charging $150 an hour for Petey’s services. All the rest of the money, including all the tips Petey earns at the strip club, go directly into Dwayne’s pockets.
Petey’s thought about running away, but now that Dwayne sees the boy as his meal-ticket, he watches Petey like a hawk. And since Petey literally doesn’t have a dime of his own, even if he did make good his escape he’d just end up selling his boypussy on the street. Besides, if he did leave, he’d be leaving his mother alone with Dwayne and, knowing the man as well as he does, Petey could only imagine what might happen to his mother if Petey wasn’t around.
Petey is stuck and he knows it. Dwayne's going to be whoring Petey’s body out for the foreseeable future and Petey just has to keep his legs spread and take all those cocks up his tight boy-hole. And Dwayne will be spanking and fucking the boy, just like he’s doing now, whenever he wants and Petey just has to let him. But one day, Dwayne’s going to screw up. Petey's sure of that. And that’s when Petey will get his revenge - in spades. Petey just hopes that day comes before his hole has been battered beyond all recognition, before it visually becomes the cunt Petey’s forced to call it. But the way Dwayne’s peddling Petey’s boypussy all around town, that day might not be too far off. Not too far off at all.
Reblogged
Sent!
This blog contains adult content. In order to view it freely, please log in or register
and confirm you are 18 years or older
It was happening again. Petey's step-dad was whaling the hell out of Petey’s ass while the teenager had a fresh bar of Dove soap wedged in his mouth. And Petey hated it, just like he hated his step-dad.
The first time it happened, Petey couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was standing naked, in the bathroom, a bar of soap wedged up his mouth, while his step-dad spanked the shit out of his tender boy-ass. It was so humiliating, so embarrassing, having to keep the soap in his mouth as the man whaled away at his butt. And the spanking hurt, too, like it always did. But as painful and degrading as being spanked was, Petey knew what was coming next would be much worse. He knew his step-dad was going to fuck him, fuck Petey’s tight little boy-hole with his big, hard Man-cock. He always did after he spanked Petey. He always did. All Petey could hope was that the man wouldn’t make him keep the soap bar in his mouth while he fucked him. But he always did that, too. He made Petey keep the bar in his mouth the whole time he fucked him, the whole time his step-dad reamed out his step-son’s teenage fuck-hole. And now the bar of soap was back in Petey’s mouth and Petey was getting another spanking and Petey knew he’d have to keep it there while the man fucked him, too. And Petey hated that, he absolutely hated that. And he hated his step-dad, too. He hated Dwayne with a passion. He hated the man’s guts.
It had never been all that great, but Petey’s life had certainly gone downhill in the last six months, ever since his mom had married Dwayne. Dwayne had been all chummy and friendly while he’d been dating his mom, treating Petey like a younger brother. He still was the same whenever Petey’s mom was around. But the moment she left for work in the morning, all that changed. Dwayne didn’t treat Petey like a younger brother - he treated him like a bitch, like a faggot cum-slut.
And it had started the very first day after Dwayne and his mom had returned from their honeymoon. His mom’s car was still pulling out of the parking lot when Dwayne stormed into Petey’s room, yanked the covers off the boy, and proceeded to rape the hell out of him over and over again, all day long. By the time his mom got back home in the early evening, Petey’s boy-hole looked like some old whore’s ravaged cunt, gaping open, uncontrollably dribbling gob after gob of Dwayne’s disgusting ball-slime. Dwayne had warned Petey not to say anything to his mother, warned him what would happen to the boy if he did. But as it was, the warning wasn’t needed. Petey was far too humiliated and shamed by what had transpired in his bedroom to even hint about it to anyone he knew.
Any hope that Petey might have nurtured that the events that first day were some type of aberration disappeared as soon as his mother left for work the next morning when Dwayne again stormed into the boy’s bedroom and began raping him all over again. If anything, the assault was even more vicious and brutal than the first day's. And that pretty much set the pattern for every day his mother went to work.
Though in time the sheer number of assaults Petey had to submit to on a daily basis decreased as fucking the boy lost some of its original thrill for his step-dad, they never lessened in intensity or brutality. Dwayne seemed to go out of his way to make every fuck as painful and degrading as possible. And when he wasn’t actively fucking or otherwise sexually abusing the boy, he made Petey work virtually non-stop doing all the house work around the apartment - scrubbing floors, doing laundry, cooking, basically keeping the apartment spotless - so that when his mother came home from work she would invariably compliment Dwayne on what a great job he was doing around the house.
Whenever his mother was at work, Petey was never allowed to wear more than a pair of multi-colored underpants, though Wayne frequently required the boy to spend the day totally naked for his own amusement and Petey’s embarrassment. But even if he was wearing his underwear, or his ‘panties’ as Petey was required to refer to them, scarcely a day went by when Petey wasn’t subjected to a brutal spanking for some infraction, real or imagined. Yesterday, he hadn’t emptied the vacuum cleaner after he was finished. Today, he had inadvertently complained that his ‘asshole was so sore’ when Wayne raised his legs to fuck him for the third time in less than four hours.
This was something Wayne considered to be a major offense since Petey had been repeatedly instructed that, unless his mother was in the room, he was always to refer to his asshole as his ‘boycunt,’ his nipples as his ‘tits,’ his cock as his ‘boy-clit’ and his mouth as his ‘mouth-pussy.’ Petey had at first resisted referring to his own body parts is such a degrading and feminizing manner, but repeated ass-thrashings had ultimately broken his resistance and he had actually begun to see his asshole as a boycunt and his nipples as tits. And, as far as Petey’s boy-clit was concerned, he hadn’t even touched it in over a month, not since Dwayne threatened to cut it off if he ever caught Petey pleasuring himself again.
Still, Petey did occasionally slip up, as he had earlier today. And whenever he did, Dwayne never failed to punish the boy for his mistake. The standard punishment for this mistake, which Wayne treated as particularly egregious, was to make Petey open up a fresh bar of soap and hold it in his mouth until such time as Dwayne gave him permission to remove it. And then Dwayne would spank him and fuck him with the boy’s cries and moans muffled by the foul-tasting bar of Dove soap stuffed into his mouth-pussy.
That was exactly what was happening to Petey again, he was getting his poor boy-ass blistered while he held a bar of Dove soap in his mouth, his saliva mixing with the soap and causing a continuous drip of stomach-turning soap suds to slither down his throat. And even as the boy struggled to keep from throwing up, he knew that soon, once Dwayne’s got tired of spanking him, his step-dad would move on to fucking him, fucking him like a bitch the way he did multiple times every day. As each day passed, Petey felt more and more trapped, more and more condemned to spend the foreseeable future as his own step-dad’s pathetic fuck-bitch. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, in the last couple of months, he’d been serving not only as his step-dad’s fuck-bitch but as the fuck-whore for an ever-growing number of total strangers.
Dwayne and Petey’s mother had been married in June and, as his summer of unrelenting physical and sexual abuse continued, Petey had, for the first time in his life, looked forward to the start of the school year. But when the day finally rolled around and Petey actually got dressed to go to school, Dwayne angrily stopped him at the front door. "Where the fuck do you think you’re going, boy?” he demanded to know.
“To school, sir,” Petey answered, trying not to show the fear that Dwayne’s anger never failed to instill in him. "It's the first day of my senior year.”
“Well, you can forget that shit, boy,” Dwayne responded with heat. "You've got work to do around this apartment, to say nothing of taking care of my needs. Besides, school is just be wasted on a dumb ass like you. Hell, boy, they held you back for a year because you're so slow; they're just keeping you warehoused until you graduate. You're old enough to quit school whenever you want, so they're not going to be worried if you don't show up. Face facts, boy. You're only good for one thing and we both know what that is - bending over and taking my hard dick up your boycunt. So get out of those clothes. Now, boy. Right now. You ain't going to school today.”
It was true that Petey had been required to repeat the third grade in elementary school, but that was because he suffered from dyslexia, a condition that hadn't been diagnosed until he was in fifth grade. And while Petey was already eighteen and could quit school, he wanted to graduate. He figured he needed at least a high school diploma if he wanted to make anything of himself. Missing the first day of classes senior year was the last thing Petey wanted to do. But Petey had already learned that arguing with his step-father was one sure way of getting an all-out ass-thrashing. So, reluctantly, Petey stripped down to his ‘panties’ right there in the living room. Dwayne walked up to the boy, reached out and gave the teenager’s right nipple a vicious twist, causing Petey to squeal in pain. "You need to be taught a lesson, boy, and I’m just the Man to do it. Go get me the paddle, the one with the holes in it, the one you hate so much, the one that makes you cry like a little girl.”
“Oh, please, sir. Please," Petey pleaded. "Not the paddle. I'm sorry, sir. I'm really sorry. I won’t go to school if you don’t want me to. I won’t. I won’t. Just don’t use the paddle on my ass, sir. Please don’t use the paddle on my ass - not the one with holes in it, sir.”
“Oh, stop your whining, boy, and get the paddle like I told you to. I'm the only teacher you need and I’m about to teach you a lesson you won’t be forgetting any time soon.”
Trying hard not to cry, Petey went and retrieved the dreaded paddle and then lowered himself over Dwayne’s ass. Petey hated crying while he was getting paddled or spanked - it made him feel like such a wuss, such a little girl - but the way Dwayne pounded his ass that day had Petey bawling his eyes out in less than five minutes. Petey didn’t think he’d ever be able to sit down again and the fuck the man threw into the boy after he’d finished blistering the teenager’s ass was one of the worse ever. By the time it was over, Petey’s pussy and his ass both felt as if they’d been dipped in liquid fire.
Dwayne warned Petey not to tell his mother than he hadn’t gone to school so when his mom asked him how his first day back had gone, he simply said, “Fine,” and left it at that. The next morning, Petey didn’t make the mistake of getting dressed for school. Instead, he asked Dwayne first if he could go to school.
“Boy,” the man replied, “I thought I made myself clear yesterday. You're done going to school. You've got all the education a pussy-bitch like you will ever need. Now, drop your panties and bend over. I've got a boner that’s got your name on it.” Knowing he didn’t have any other choice, Petey did as he was told.
For the next two weeks, Petey didn’t bother trying to go to school. He knew that Dwayne wouldn’t let him go and was sure to punish Petey if he pressed the matter. He just hoped that either the school would investigate his absence or that his mother would find out that he hadn’t been going to school. Dwayne had already made it clear that Petey wasn’t to say anything to her about not going to school and Petey was too terrified of the man to cross him, but Petey was sure that if she did somehow find out - and she had to eventually, didn’t she - she’d override Dwayne’s objections and let Petey go back to school, finish his senior year, and graduate with the rest of his class.
But, two months ago, all of Petey’s hopes came crashing down around him. He had just put on the t-shirt and shorts that Dwayne always let him wear when his mother was at home, when he heard Dwayne shout in an angry voice, “Petey, come in here. We need to talk.”
Scared, not knowing what was going on, Petey hurried to the living room where Dwayne and his mom were sitting on the couch, his mother crying as she held a piece of paper in her hand. Seeing his mom crying, Petey forgot all about his own fears for a moment. "What's wrong, mom?’ he asked. "What's wrong?”
His mother looked up at him, the tears just flowing down her face. "Oh, Petey,” she cried. "How could you? How could you?”
Stunned, Petey replied, “How could I what, mom? How could I what? What's going on?”
His mother started to reply but Dwayne cut her off. "We'd agreed I’d handle this, Margie. Let me handle it.” Then, taking the piece of paper from his wife’s hand and handing it to Petey, he demanded, “How do you explain this, boy?”
His hand shaking, Petey looked down at the document he was holding. It was a notice to Petey’s parents from the vice-principal of his high school that Petey was being expelled from school for fighting, using drugs on school property, and sexually assaulting a female classmate. "This isn’t true,” Petey declared in a shaking voice. "This can’t be true. You know that, Dwayne. You know this can’t be true.”
“What I know, boy,” Dwayne responded with fire in his eye, “is that when I called your school and asked about all this, they told me that not only was every word on that piece of paper true but that it was only the tip of the iceberg. The principal told me that the only reason you weren’t in jail right now was that the girl you assaulted refused to press charges. He said that if you were his son, he knew exactly how he’d discipline you. And I do, too, boy. So you just drop your shorts - and your underpants, too - and get over my lap. You need to be punished, boy. And I’m gonna do it the way my old man punished me, with a good old-fashioned bare-assed spanking.”
“Mom?” Petey said, turning to her in appeal.
But any hope that Petey had that she might intervene was quickly shot down when she said, “We talked it over, Petey, and we both agreed that you needed to be punished and your step-father assured me that this would be the best way to do it, the best way to impress upon you the seriousness of what you’ve done.”
“But, Mom,” Petey began to protest, before Dwayne cut him off by grabbing his arm and spinning him around so that he was facing his step-dad. "I gave you an order, boy,” Dwayne growled at him. "You're only making things worse for yourself by arguing.”
Petey looked at his step-dad and saw that beneath the anger on the surface of his face, Dwayne was actually amused by Petey’s predicament, amused by the boy’s imminent humiliation. And, realizing that the whole scene had been pre-set by his step-dad and that it was pointless to prolong the inevitable, Petey slowly pushed his shorts down his legs and then followed them with his ‘panties.’ Then, bare-assed like his step-dad wanted him, all too aware that he was completely naked in front of his own mother, Petey crawled over Dwayne’s lap just as he had so many times before.
Petey had been spanked numerous times during the previous three months and his boy-ass was always sore. And he expected that Dwayne would really go to town on his butt, considering his ostensible justification for spanking Petey. But his step-dad surprised him. While the spanking was hard, it was nowhere near as brutal as Petey had come to expect. It was only later that Petey figured out that the reason for this was not any concern for the boy, it was to impress his mother with Dwayne’s ‘moderation.’
But if the pain was considerably less than Petey had gotten used to, the humiliation was actually greater because while Dwayne was spanking Petey’s ass with his right hand, he was stroking and fondling Petey’s boy-clit into a full, straining erection with his left hand. Petey's mortification was complete when, after the spanking was over, Dwayne made the boy stand up, turn around to face his mother and apologize to her, keenly aware the entire time he sobbed out his apology that his erection was jutting straight out from his naked groin. It was the most humiliating moment of Petey’s life, and he ran crying to his room when it was finally over.
Petey stayed in his bedroom the rest of the evening, too ashamed to show his face. He was not surprised the next morning when, after his mother had left for work, Dwayne barged into his room and gave him a spanking that made up for all the brutality that Petey’s public ass-tanning had lacked and then followed it with a vicious cunting-out that left the boy gasping in pain. But no sooner had Dwayne heaved his sweating body off the boy than he ordered Petey to get into the shower and clean himself up, explaining that “your first customer will be here in half-an-hour and I want you to make a good impression on him.”
When Petey gave his step-dad a quizzical look the man laughed at him. "Yeah, boy, I’m putting you to work doing the only thing you’re good for - taking dick up your boytwat. I figure a young bitch like you can handle four or five cuntings–out by paying customers every day. Course, I can’t book any customers on weekends when your mother’s home but don’t worry, boy. I got you a job in a strip club working Friday and Saturday nights. The manager assures me you’ll be able to handle at least half-a-dozen customers in the back-room both nights. Now get your ass in the shower, bitch. And don’t forget to clean your pussy.” Too numb to even voice an objection, Petey just did as he was told. An hour later, Petey was squealing on his bed as his first paying customer, the vice-principal of his high school, made himself at home in the teenager’s pussy and gave the boy a real good fucking, too.
All that was two months ago and since then Petey’s been whored out three or four times every day. Between his own bedroom and the back room of the strip club, to say nothing of the ‘house-calls’ he now makes every Sunday, Petey couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how many loads of ball-slime he’s taken up his pussy and down his throat, but he figures it’s got to be close to 500. His pussy is sore all the time now and his boy-tits, which his various customers seem to particularly enjoy molesting, seem to be permanently swollen to over twice their original size. And at times his ass hurts so much from repeated spankings that it’s all he can do to keep from crying while he’s sitting down and eating dinner with his mother and Dwayne.
Petey’s mother seems completely oblivious to what her husband is doing to her boy. Dwayne told her that he managed to get Petey a job as a handyman’s assistant, working for one of his friends. Dwayne explained that, while the work is hard and the boy has to work long hours, frequently at night, the pay is really good, particularly for a boy like Petey with no real skills. His mother doesn’t see any reason to question Dwayne’s assurances, particularly since Petey now has a bank account earmarked for his further education with more than $5,000 in it.
But while the account does exist and it has more than $5,000 in it, the account is actually in Dwayne’s name and Dwayne has no intention of ever letting Petey go back to school - he’s making way too much money off the boy’s pussy to even consider that. In any event, the account represents only a small fraction of the money Petey’s boycunt is bringing in, since Dwayne deposits only $25 for every session the boy works, though he’s charging $150 an hour for Petey’s services. All the rest of the money, including all the tips Petey earns at the strip club, go directly into Dwayne’s pockets.
Petey’s thought about running away, but now that Dwayne sees the boy as his meal-ticket, he watches Petey like a hawk. And since Petey literally doesn’t have a dime of his own, even if he did make good his escape he’d just end up selling his boypussy on the street. Besides, if he did leave, he’d be leaving his mother alone with Dwayne and, knowing the man as well as he does, Petey could only imagine what might happen to his mother if Petey wasn’t around.
Petey is stuck and he knows it. Dwayne's going to be whoring Petey’s body out for the foreseeable future and Petey just has to keep his legs spread and take all those cocks up his tight boy-hole. And Dwayne will be spanking and fucking the boy, just like he’s doing now, whenever he wants and Petey just has to let him. But one day, Dwayne’s going to screw up. Petey's sure of that. And that’s when Petey will get his revenge - in spades. Petey just hopes that day comes before his hole has been battered beyond all recognition, before it visually becomes the cunt Petey’s forced to call it. But the way Dwayne’s peddling Petey’s boypussy all around town, that day might not be too far off. Not too far off at all.