Feature Writer: Todd Sayre /
Feature Title: The Unexpected /
Story Codes: Non-Consensual Man-Boy story/Fantasy, NC, Masturbation, Oral, Anal (anal/oral with baby; death in side-line) /
Synopsis: A fantasy story about a hermaphrodite boy/girl who is raped /
Characters: Michael (10-11yo), Chris (12yo), Billy (16-17yo) /
The Unexpected
Part I / Prologue
“Please! Please!” Michael Lambert pleaded.
“Your ass is so fucking tight!” Billy Callahan gasped as he rammed.
Sixteen year-old Billy Callahan had lured his ten year-old neighbor, Michael over to his house on a bright Saturday morning. It originally began with a promise to play Resident Evil II, but the moment Michael entered Billy’s room-the ten year-old was pushed onto the bed, stripped naked-and Billy entered the boy for several hours. Billy had so much sexual energy pent up, that he singled out the Lambert boy for a ride in the sack. Michael begged, thinking that Billy would kill him when he was finished, but he had to wait until it was all over to learn his fate.
Michael wondered how he would die. Strangled? Gunshot to the head? Throat slit? Or Billy’s cock choking him to death. Somehow, Michael thought it would be a cock down his throat that would do him in.
Billy hammered his cock-sliding unmercifully hard, nearly tearing his rectum as every plunge of his adolescent cock punched in and out-streams of pearly white cream filling the ten year-old as he cried in pain as that fat cock rammed into him. Michael never thought this would end; hours of humiliating butt-fuckings, but was grateful when he heard the downstairs foyer door open and close, Billy’s mother crying out, “Billy!”
“Shit!” He cried.
“Help! HELP ME!” Michael screamed.
“Fuck! Shut up, Mike!” Billy said. He pulled his fat cock out of his victim’s ass and dressed as quick as he could-but not quick enough.
Sally Callahan walked in to find her son slipping on his briefs and the boy next door completely naked and semi-tied to the bed. Sally screamed before she beat her son black and blue.
Chapter 1 / 3 months later…
Billy Callahan went to the San Diego Youth Authority until he turned eighteen for raping Michael that day, but it couldn’t wash away the shame Michael Lambert felt. Having to testify in court against him, having to relive that day was hard enough, but when he went back to school his classmates had learned of the assault and they made fun of him – calling him faggot or ass-hump.
His only friend, Chris Allen, liked him and didn’t join in on the mockery, but defended him when those bad moments came.
Chris was a handsome boy, but he was the kind of friend you could grow up with, knowing that no matter what happened in life-there would Chris be. Michael could really count on him for support and one day when the school’s bullies came calling, Chris stood up to them-unfortunately they worked him over as a result.
When Michael needed him the most, Chris had come through – and Tuesday morning at the bus stop – Chris was there when the horrible pain struck Michael’s body and began puking. He was struck hard by the worst pain ever that he couldn’t move. Students of El Cajon Junior High stood around as he cried hard as the pain coursed through him like needles.
Chris ran across the street to the little mom and pop store and dialed 911.
Michael remembered hearing the sirens. The police were the first to arrive. He was grateful when the cop made the other students get on their bus.
When the paramedics arrived, they got the cop to get a hold of his mother to get consent to treat him. Then they stuck his arm with a big needle, inserting an intravenous line to get some fluids into him as a precaution.
They transported Michael to Scripps Hospital and the emergency room doctor started the tests. He was still in agony, but they gave him a shot of something that made the pain fade. That was when his parents walked into the exam room. They were worried for him and Michael could see the lines of fear on his mother’s beautiful face and to this day he felt sorry for her.
A few hours later the emergency room doctor came into the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Lambert? Hello, I’m Doctor Young.”
“What’s wrong with our son?” Marian Lambert said nervously.
The doctor had a grin on his face-but not that kind of grin when your ready to mock somebody-rather, Michael believed he didn’t know how to break the news. “Um… well… I uh think maybe you should sit down. What I have to tell you won’t be easy.”
“Its cancer. Isn’t it?” His father, Gordon Lambert the attorney from hell, said.
“No,” the doctor said.
Both of his parents hit the floor (literally) when the doctor told them. Michael felt sick to his stomach and nearly passed out himself. How could such a thing happen. It wasn’t possible, Michael reasoned. Maybe in a movie or some book, but not in real life. Things like this belong in the Twilight Zone.
When his parents came to and were ready to handle the truth, the doctor repeated to them and to Michael as well what was wrong with him. “Your boy… for some strange reason is pregnant. Now I’ve heard of such cases, but it happens like one in a trillion. But the problem that we’re very confused about is that Michael couldn’t have concieved on his own. There had to be a sperm donor. I’m afraid, because of his age, we were forced to call the police. Since he is pregnant that suggests to me that a man or a boy had to have had sex with him and that is against the law.”
His father was offended as was his mother. He guessed they assumed that his dad climbed over him and gave him the business… but he didn’t.
When the cops came, they were the first to clear up the mess. Gordon Lambert told them about his son’s rape and there was a current report number the police were able to access from their car’s computer. The doctor confirmed that Michael was at least three months pregnant and that coincided with the time frame involving the rape. Billy Callahan was the father of the baby in Michael Lambert’s belly.
After nine hours of heavy testing, sonograms, blood work and a scope with a light at the end of it poking around his bottom, they had found what they were looking for. “Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, I’m Doctor Johnston… OB-GYN. We know how all this happened.”
“Tell us please,” His mother said.
“Michael is a very unique… um… boy. He is a hermaphrodite, but the outward appearance is not visible. He isn’t a typical hermaphrodite. When he was born, your son was born with a penis and scrotums, but inside him he has a uterus, fallopian tubes and ovaries. But here is where it gets strange.
“The police informed us that your son was sodomized for hours. Your son’s vaginal area resides in his rectum. As his attacker was anally assaulting him, chances were great that the penis ejaculated sperm into the vagina, thus impregnating your son.”
“Can we have an abortion done?” Gordon asked.
“Normally in a girl, yes, but in Michael’s case its impossible and could kill him if we did surgery. Your son will have to carry the baby to term.” Doctor Johnston said.
“My son is only eleven, how can this happen? He’ll be laughed at and ridiculed by other children and the family… Jesus, the family will start gossiping” Marian said.
“We can always give the baby up once its born,” Gordon replied.
“I’m afraid you can’t do that either,” the doctor piped in.
“What do you mean?” Gordon said.
“Like I said, Michael is, if not the most, unique boy on the planet. Once the baby is born, he can’t drink regular milk or formula. We also performed other tests to confirm our suspicions. Michael has mammary glands that produce milk all around his penis. Michael will have to stick his penis in the baby’s mouth to nurse it. The milk that Michael’s body produces is also unique and the baby will have to nurse numerous times a day from anywhere from five years to seven. It depends on the baby and we won’t know until its born.”
“Just how will the baby be born?” Marian asked.
“Well… um,” The doctor looked at Michael. “The baby will come out of Michael’s rectum and it will be a painful birth. In order to help him get through all of this, we’ll keep plenty of drugs on hand to help him.
“These two people are Ann Weaver, she is a social worker and this gentleman is Judge Howard Stein.”
The social worker told them that for his protection, Michael was going to be home schooled and would be getting a special teacher that would come by once a week to teach him how to take care of the baby once it was born. He still couldn’t believe there was a baby in him. He wanted to cry so bad but he held it in until he was alone.
The judge was there to tell Michael’s parents that he was going to get a special law enacted to protect him if he was ever spotted by somebody that didn’t know what he was, dick-feeding his baby.
Chapter 2 / 3 more months later…
Michael had stopped going to school and was not allowed to have his friends over, except Chris. Even he couldn’t believe that he was a mutant girl who wore a boy as cover. Michael was afraid he would make fun of him and laugh-but being the loyal friend that he was, he was supportive. “So… your like a girl on the inside, but a boy on the outside?” Chris said.
“That’s what the doctor said.” Michael told him.
“How does it feel to have a baby inside you?”
“Weird. But I have a problem. My family is very upset that I’ll be giving birth to my baby outside of marriage. They’re like once a week Catholics and for me to give birth without a husband is really bothering them… and me. I’m scared that God won’t like me anymore cause I’m breaking his laws.”
“Mike, can I tell you something… something super secret?” He said anxiously.
“Sure. What could be worse than me being knocked up?”
“I mean you have to swear the most excellent secret in the world.”
“I promise… I swear!”
“Okay.” Chris said looking down. Michael could see his lower lip trembling and his hands shaking-but when he saw the stream of tears coming down his cheeks-he knew that what he was about to tell him was sincere. “I’m… um… well I… I-I… SHIT! I’m… gay Mike. Well actually, bisexual really. And since we met two years ago, I’ve had the biggest crush on you and when you got raped I cried for weeks.”
He couldn’t face Michael. Chris believed Michael was now in the process of telling him to get out and never come back. But he wasn’t. The funny thing about his admission was that it relieved Michael. He thought he was gay, but when the doctors broke the wonderful news that he was all girl on the inside and boy on the outside, he knew that his desire to kiss Chris was natural and he told Chris so.
“What? Are you serious?” Chris said, wiping his tears with the palm of his hand.
“Yeah. I though I was like gay or something, but what was happening to me was normal. I’m attracted to you and have been for a long time. But I couldn’t say anything cause I was too scared.”
Chris appeared to brighten a bit when Michael told him. Michael reached out and wrapped his arms around him and kissed him on the lips. They were soft like he had imagined so many times in his dreams and this moment-he wished-would last forever. Now he knew why Chris was so loyal, why he defended Michael at the drop of a hat. He wondered if Chris felt some primal instinct to protect him from harm.
Marian Lambert walked in on them while their lips were glued together and she nearly fainted.
It took a bit to explain the whole thing to her. Anymore surprises would kill her and Michael hoped that there wasn’t, but there was one more.
In front of his mother, Chris got down on his knee and asked for Michael’s hand in marriage. He was stunned. His best friend, the only boy he ever trusted wanted to marry him. His mother and he couldn’t speak. It was as if his lips were glued. Michael looked at my mother and she had that same stunned disbelief look upon her face that he had. “I like… I love you Mike. And I want to marry you and be here for you forever!”
Michael realized his mother was no help. He didn’t know what to say. Her eyes gave no indication of approval or disapproval. “Chris, will your mom, I mean your foster mom let you?” Michael asked.
“I don’t know. But you said they made a special law that protects you. Maybe there’s something in there that will let me marry you.”
Well, thank god for tiny miracles, Michael thought, his mother had a talk with his father and they sat with him that night at the dinner table as they ate fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. The baby in him really made him hungry a lot. And since he learned he was a weird human being with a cunt up his ass with a bun in the oven – he ate more than usual.
“Its possible, but I’d have to call the judge and find out what he says. Chris is a ward of the court and it might be possible to make it happen.”
Chris was permanently removed from his home a couple of years ago when they found out that his stepfather was molesting him. He had no other relatives alive and his mother was in the box and six feet under for five years.
Michael’s father called the judge. He did some checking and pulled a computer file on Chris and the following day, after consultations with the US District Court, the green light was given for Michael and Chris to marry.
His parents commented how weird it would be for them to see him being held by another boy, kissed on the lips, sharing a bed and most of all to have them hear them as they laid in their bed at night as they made love. They would have to talk to the doctor about the sex part – but Michael was excited. This didn’t happen everyday – but it was happening nonetheless. His parents were just happy that he would not be giving birth out of wedlock… so was Michael.
Chapter 3
He sat in his cell flicking a deck of red Bicycle playing cards into the dry sink. The minutes ticked by slow and every minute gone was a minute he hated. One day, Billy thought, he would finish Michael Lambert the way he had foreseen – the young god ramming his cock up the ten year-old’s ass-raping that blessed hole that belonged to him. The timing wasn’t right. He was in prison and Michael was in the grasp of freedom. But he sensed his time to avenge his loins was creeping slowly and when he made his move, when he was free – Michael Lambert would be eleven and just as cute as ever.
Billy would wait… payday someday, he remembered and soon he would cash in… soon.
Michael and Chris stood before Judge Stein on a brilliant Friday afternoon weeks later at the Lambert house. Chris, along with his foster family, came to witness this very first marriage of its kind. Somehow he thought Chris expected him to be in a white dress with lace and shit like that, but Michael wore navy-blue OP shorts and one of his father’s big tee-shirts. His belly was really too big for one of his dress shirts, let alone a suit. He was raised a boy and by gosh he was going to keep acting like a boy, except when it came to his baby and Chris.
With all the vows that Michael and Chris exchanged, administered by the judge, Chris and Michael gave each other a hell of kiss. Marian would later state she saw her son slide his tongue into Chris’ mouth, which was true and felt great to them.
The moment that the judge pronounced them husband and wife, Chris ceased to be a ward of the court. He was officially moving in with the Lambert family and the social worker was arranging for Chris to be home schooled by the same teacher as Michael.
Being married for just a few minutes made Michael feel kind of weird. He married his best friend and now he would share a bed with him. Chris had never seen him naked and wouldn’t get the chance to fuck him until after the birth of their child.
After a fine little dinner and few gifts were exchanged, Chris and Michael went up the stairs and got ready for bed. They were both scared as they undressed. They each stripped naked and Michael turned beet red when Chris saw the size of his belly. They climbed into bed – a queen size his father bought them – and held each other. Michael felt strange being touched by a boy – held tenderly and stroked. Chris started kissing him and each kiss was magical. Chris’ lips pressed tight against his and he nearly wept when he realized this was really happening. Michael ran a hand over his husband’s smooth body and touched his cock. It was hard and warm and he wished he could have it in him, but would have to wait.
Chris climbed over him and inserted his penis into Michael’s mouth and he swallowed it, letting it glide back and forth – feeling his cock swell and throb as he pumped his groin into his face. Michael had never thought of having a boys cock in his mouth, but found he loved sucking on him. He had a beautiful five inch [12½ cm], hairless cock that was trimmed at the tip and balls Michael enjoyed licking. When Michael squeezed his lips around Chris’ flesh, Chris moaned and cried out as the severity of a blazing orgasm had captured him in ways he had never thought possible.
A stream of sperm shot out filling Michael’s mouth with sticky cream and he swallowed his husband’s spirit, tasting the product of his loins… and he truly felt happy since his life had come to a grinding halt. Was the rape all that bad? Michael thought. No. It wasn’t. It had produced a baby in his belly and provided him a husband – although Chris was twelve and he barely eleven by two months.
They did the best they could that night, considering Michael’s condition and a lot of sperm came flowing. He never thought he could ever enjoy sex with another boy, but here he was doing just that and he loved every moment of it.
Chapter 4 / 3 months later… January 14, 2000
It happened while Michael was watching tv. He felt the pain (contractions he was told) reverberate through him as if a chainsaw was tearing him in two. He cried so much and he could see Chris crying for him as he hated to see him suffering.
The paramedics rushed Michael back to Scripps and Dr. Johnston was already there, waiting in scrubs. Chris was being allowed in the delivery room since he was Michael’s husband and his birthing coach.
They got him up on the table and lifted his legs very high into the stirrups so that Michael’s asshole was staring the doctor in the face.
Because he was built weird, he was told by the doctor that his rectum wouldn’t tear – instead it would stretch painfully for this moment. Michael cried and pleaded to make the pain go away, but as the minutes ticked by, the pain grew steadily worse. “CHRIS! OH! OW! PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!”
Then the doctor fed his IV line a hefty dose of Demoral and in a minute he was feeling better, but the pain was still there, but manageable.
“Push! Mike Push!” Chris cried. “Breath Baby Breath!”
Michael pushed and pushed and every time he did, it felt like he was pushing a fully engulfed Webber barbeque through his ass. The pain came back in full fury and he screamed as every push made the baby inch out fractionally.
Twenty minutes later, Michael David Allen was born. He was smothered in shit and goop, but he was the most beautiful little baby boy Michael had ever seen. He was his… theirs. The pain and the rape seemed insignificant now that Michael held his son, but he had much ahead of him… waiting for him like the plague.
Part II / The Baby
I managed to get a few hours of sleep after giving birth. My ass was incredibly sore as if I had just given birth to a bus. The doctor kept me on pain medications which made me extra sleepy, but my sleep was shattered when the nurse brought Mikey to my room. He was tightly bundled in a ball with a warm cap. It was feeding time. I wasn’t sure I could do this – stick my cock in the baby’s mouth – but I had no choice.
The nurse pulled my blankets away and laid the baby on his side next to my groin. “Are you going to watch?” I asked.
“Yes. I need to make sure the baby feeds,” she said.
“I… I can’t if your watching.”
“Mike it’ll be OK,” Chris said.
I thought being butt-fucked by Billy was bad, this was worse. I had to show my dink to the nurse – had to let her watch me stuff my baby’s mouth.
Reluctantly, I lifted my gown and my cock hung askew. The nurse pushed the baby closer to me. I leaned into him until the tip of my dick pressed against his tiny lips, but with no rejection – Mikey let my penis slide into his mouth and immediately I could feel him sucking – I could also feel the flow of milk running through my cock in tiny streams. It didn’t take long for my cock to get hard. It felt good to have his tiny mouth sucking on me – drinking all of his milk and I wondered if the nurse wasn’t here – would I have enjoyed myself sexually? I think so.
Fifteen minutes later, the baby drained me of the milk and his first feeding was successful. I didn’t tell the nurse, but I told Chris that I had three orgasms in the process and I had enjoyed it.
“Really?” He said. “Mike… do you think when we go home… would you let me try sticking my dick in him?”
“Yeah I guess so.”
“Cool!”
Chapter 5
A week later the doctor finally released me from the hospital and I went home. I was glad. My ass felt much better and my tummy was getting flatter.
When I got home, Chris asked to try his dick in the baby, so I let him. Nobody would know. After all, cock-feeding my baby was a very personal thing. I laid Mikey on the bed and Chris got naked. Since his cock was bigger than mine he wouldn’t be able to push to deep. He climbed over the baby and worked his gorgeous dick into Mikey’s mouth. Chris moaned as he felt the baby’s sucking mouth go to work. He started pumping his hips, thrusting gently back and forth. I was so turned on by what he was doing that I whipped my own cock and began to jerk-off. Chris was so into sliding as much of his prick as he could he was unaware that I was masturbating next to him. I watched with fascination as the baby took his daddy in – swallowing that bulbous cock head as if it were mine. Then I realized that Chris must have gotten off every time I fed the baby – to watch as my dick filled Mikey.
Chris humped away and his thrusting became more pronounced and his moans became erotic cries of such unspeakable pleasures that I could see my husband tense, his ass-cheeks squeezing tight as I knew that an orgasm was biting deep into him. “Uh!” Thrust. “Uh!” Thrust “Uh!” Chris closed his eyes as he was swept away. His son had welcomed him by giving him an intense climax and as he was coming. My cock began to tingle, sizzle and throb as my own orgasm took hold. I was disappointed that no come squirted… but a trickle of milk.
When Chris pulled away from the baby, a long pearly-white string of semen stretched away from the baby’s mouth to Chris’ cock – still linked by the fluid and I got horny all over again. It was my turn. I had to feed Mikey anyway, but I would do it differently – I would do it the way Chris had done it. “Thank’s Mike, that felt great!”
“Sure.”
I climbed over Mikey – stripped naked – and let my penis connect with his mouth and slid it in. The baby began to suck and instantly I felt the flow of milk. I began to thrust mildly, my dick gliding on tender lips and my hips working back and forth, pushing into him. This particular feeding was the most incredible. The doctor never prepared me for what I was feeling. I loved feeding the baby. Mikey sucked and I could feel his tiny mouth suck with enthusiasm. My cock was rock hard and I could sense the excitement of sexual bliss building each time my dick brushed back and forth over his little tongue.
I turned to look at Chris and saw him still naked, on the bed and yanking on his dick. He loved to watch me do our son. I gave him a show letting my hips pump and hump. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I realized that I was gasping as I drove into him. If I could feed Mikey like this every time, I was going to enjoy being a mother. This was too good to be true. “Mikey!” I cried. The slithering touch of the onset of an orgasm was creeping slowly upon me. I picked up my pace in desperation to reach that sexual plateau where I would find total fulfillment.
The baby, surprisingly, kept up with the string of sweet milk. “OH! OH! CHRIS! T-THIS… T-T-THIS… SHIT!”
My son’s lips seemed to squeeze hungrily at the shaft of my cock and I knew he needed his milk and I needed my come. Faster still, I slid in and out until I felt that powerful, electrical surge ripple through my groin. I tensed just as Chris had done letting the climax seize me violently. If I had the ability to squirt sperm I would have shot a load into Mikey’s mouth, but all that came was more sweet milk.
I turned onto my side and turned the baby onto his side and let him continue to feed. In the meantime, I was trying to catch my breath. Chris had taken a tissue to my sweaty forehead and wiped me dry.
Chris laid behind me. I could feel the heat of his sex as it burned against my ass and I wanted him to stuff it up me, but I was not ready to start having sex.
Chris developed a daily routine of cock-feeding Mikey and went further than I would expect… especially when I was napping my fatigued body. I can’t begin to tell what a great toll being a mother has had upon me – sore cock, sometimes swelling and a terrible lack of sleep. Just last week, I discovered that Chris was doing more than sticking his prick down our baby’s throat. Early one morning – with the door securely locked – I awoke to heavy pants coming from the walk-in closet.
I moved my head off to the side and caught sight of Chris completely nude, with Mikey laying on his belly, legs splayed wide with his daddy’s groin grinding rhythmically in and out of the baby’s ass. I should have sat up and told him to stop, but those erotic pelvic thrusts and those intense gasps of lust driving his moans captivated me. I could feel my sore penis inflate and the sensual fire blazing hot as I watched my husband’s cock connect with our child’s bottom.
Chris never looked so good to me. Those beautiful smooth legs, beautifully tanned, rippled and flexed as he shoved in. Beads of sweat dripped down his unblemished face and I could almost see those eyes… those glorious hypnotic eyes and the elegance of his face and his coffee brown hair so perfect that he could wake from a deep sleep and once he rose in the morning it would fall back into place.
He was too perfect for the perfect. I could hardly wait until I had him laying over me, filling my ass with his dick, his chest to mine with lips intertwined. Those days of heated sex was coming and for now, Christopher Allen needed release from the growing pressure in his loins and he found his outlet in his son.
I couldn’t blame him.
As he thrust ever so gently, I found myself rubbing my cock and watching, entranced by this form of sexual bliss. I wondered if Chris had his cock head in that baby’s rectum – but concluded that he didn’t – the size of his penis in relation to Mikey’s asshole would have proved too painful.
Thrust after greedy thrust, I watched the red numerals on the clock as Chris fucked. The baby cooperated fully, issuing gurgles and coos as daddy sliced his bottom in two with his meaty sex, chanting heated gasps – sodomizing him with undying enthusiasm. Two hours of pumping, two hours of moaning-rocking and pushing – but never gave into fatigue. He kept sliding his dick in and out as if he couldn’t get enough ass. It occurred to me that Chris may have developed an addiction to this form of gratification that he refused to quit. To be quite honest, I developed an addiction to watching.
By the third hour, I could see Chris’ sperm pooling in one large glob on the closet floor – the carpet collecting the semen in a congealing clump – as it oozed out of Mikey’s ass down to his baby balls inevitably dripping off like a leaky pipe.
That pearly-white fluid looked so pleasing that I wanted to get on hands and knees a lap it up like a dog drinking water… tasting my husband and consuming the very seed that resided in his balls. I have grown to love sucking on Chris’ cock and swallowing his spirit each time made him come, and every day since our wedding day – Chris and I have been spending hours on end cock-sucking.
I still believe that Chris would have made it to hour number four had it not been for mom knocking on the door. “Boy’s! Why don’t you wake up and eat some breakfast!”
Chris turned his head and saw that I was watching. I thought he was going to blush, but he knew I was enjoying the show. I had my hairless cock in hand, yanking on it as I stared excitedly as his smooth ass curved perfectly – laying over the baby’s rump and kissing his little bottom.
Chris dismounted Mikey while I answered mom. When his cock came out I could see it dripping that sticky come. He was going to wipe it, but I stopped him and asked him to come to me. He stood next to the bed, breathless with that beautiful cock and with undeniable hunger I slid his flesh into my mouth and cleansed it with my moist tongue.
The taste of his come tasted like Mikey and I sucked hard, gliding my lips back and forth, making him toil his abused lungs further, grunting and moaning with intense pleasure as I latched on tight and milked him forcefully – pinching his engorgement – feeling every minute detail to his finely shaped penis, every vein and artery, every ripple of skin and the rim of his prick, crowning the majesty of his manhood. Nothing could be better than his cock. He says the same of me, but my dick is much smaller in length and diameter. Chris has a few pubes sprouting here and there, but I remain as desolate as the sandy Sahara… surprisingly the same color as well.
He picked Mikey up and laid him next to me and I slid my hard cock into his mouth-sucking heartily and consuming a late breakfast. Chris slipped on his Fruit-of the-Looms (clearly come stained) and dressed into khakis shorts and left the room.
Chapter 6 / 30 days later…
After visiting Dr. Johnston (the ‘Crack-Quack’ as dad called him) he inspected my ass and gave it a bill of good health. He okayed Chris and I to finally engage in sex. I was going to make love for the very first time. Unfortunately, my dick was still rather swollen from rigorous feedings that I got a much unwanted shot of Cortisone.
That night, my mother the great romantic that she was, prepared a special evening for Chris and I. She cooked a prime rib dinner with all the trimmings and lit dinner candles and arranged the table for two. Beforehand, I fed the baby good and then when we were ready to dine, mom and dad split with Mikey and gave Chris and I the run of the house. We ate hungrily washing the food down with Hawaiian Punch – wolfed down chocolate cake with milk – and prepared ourselves for bed.
I was nervous. The last time I had a cock up my ass Billy had been over me, filling me with his juice and providing me with a baby. But this time the cock that filled me would plunge in with love instead of lust. I was worried that it would hurt, but as a result of child birth, my rectum has become pliable.
When Chris slid his cock into me it entered with great pleasure. I could feel the mouth of my hole conforming to the shaft of his penis, gripping him comfortably. He pushed eagerly inward until he could go no further and began to thrust. Every time I felt his manhood push in and out a tingling sensation enveloped my hole that the faster and the harder he went the greater the feel.
I was gasping before he was and I enjoyed every moment that was shared – fucking with impunity, leaving no emotional scars, or causing painful memories to waft up like a putrid odor – instead every thunderous launch of his blessed groin transmitted sweet songs of ecstacy – making me cry in delight as I could feel his love emanating from his laboring lungs, loud exhalations blasting in roaring whispers, filling the room with the spirit of need.
Not a single moment was wasted in contemplation of what position we should share. All that was welcome was his heavenly body pounding into me and my murmuring heart weeping to the cadence of his beating hips. Then in what felt like a current of corrosive liquid, rivering through me in warm strings that flowed, welling up into me in pools, the tangy flood of salt laden sperm filled me in ways that Billy couldn’t achieve. Where Billy failed, Chris succeeded. He drove his penis in circular patterns deep into me until I could feel his come beginning to fill my vagina.
Part III / The Visit
Chapter 7 / San Diego Youth Authority (Present day…)
When the morning sun rose in the east, Billy would join the other volunteers as they went to Santee to wash the San Diego Sheriff’s cruisers. It would be a long day, but he had plans. He would pay Michael Lambert a visit to finish where he left off.
Since being incarcerated, Billy had raped several boys in the showers and had turned them into sisters – willing to bend over upon his command – he enjoyed his time with them, but none of them were as cute as Michael, those beautiful blue eyes and his sandy blonde hair and the scent of his puckered ass. Billy felt homesick… but all that would change.
He ate a miserable breakfast with eggs that tasted the like warm snot, hash browns that tasted like gravel and orange juice so tart that he grimaced as the sourness hit him hard. He would have to pay a visit to McDonald’s for a real meal. If he could stay out of jail long enough, he would hold up a Domino’s. He missed pizza. He missed a lot of things, but one thing he would never miss was this antiseptic institution with its drab prison utilities and those hard bunks. It was true that the pickings for ass was good – save, the wetback boys or the niggers that polluted the prison – it was like Sears and Roebuck.
Turn the page and take your pick. One boy would be skinny and soft, fat and ugly or just right. But there were those young boys he really liked. Blonde and nearly perfect. He had been lucky enough to gain favor with the guards. At night, when all was quiet in the house and not a single mouse stirred, Billy was on his hands and knees giving each guard a blow, then they would let him roam the halls until he found the boy he wanted to fuck. They’d open the cell door and in he would go – fucking with all of his heart never resting until dawn’s early light.
Certainly it was treat. But nothing was as good as Michael Lambert.
By eight AM, Billy boarded the bus. He was one of a baker’s dozen that had gained trustee’s status to leave the Hall. Actually it had been those nights of blow jobs, gratifying the guards that had granted him the path of their generosity.
He chuckled inwardly – an evil grin broke upon his face – as he knew what this day had in store for him. Michael, he thought. My dear little Michael Lambert with the perfect little hole waiting for my twisted, fat cock!
He bent over the black and white and ran a sponge across the dust streaked hood, wiping a fan of suds in a wave, thinking of his plan. The guard – Mr. Stanford, a tub of a man with the nose of a geezer – sat smoking a Kool and bull shitting with another officer when Billy dropped his sponge and started off behind other cruisers. He inched low and careful, passing one car after the other until he reached the fence-line. He snaked silently until he reached the main gate. When the way was clear, he ran for freedom and not once did he hear the shouting voice of Mr. Stanford, choking on his smoke or hear the peeling chirps of rubber as the Crown Victorian cruisers pursued from behind.
He ran. He ran like he had never run before. He ran through alleys and backyards, stealing freshly washed clothes of the lines as he went – picking up oversized jeans here, a shirt there and found a Padres hat hanging on a wooden picket. He beat an old man who was digging a hole for his flowers and stole his wallet snatching forty bucks. Cheap old bastard! He thought.
He paid his fair on the bus and headed toward his destiny… wherever it would lead him.
Chapter 8
As Chris lay sleeping that bright morning, Michael stripped naked and climbed over the baby, slid his cock in and began rocking back and forth – the baby tugging on his dick, drinking hungrily as that electrical static began to seize his flesh – the exhilaration of gratification building into a crescendo.
A soothing, absent smile formed upon his face as he felt that sucking mouth adoring his penis, consuming his cock with devouring lips.
Michael thought of the night before as his twelve year-old husband made love to him so sincerely, that the bite of sweet memory stroked his heart with the embers of a strange fire that seared his heart. He loved Chris and was grateful that his life had taken this unexpected turn.
For now, he would enjoy his nursing infant and dream until his sizzling penis felt the rapture of another climax. The year 2000 was truly starting out with a bang.
Chapter 9
Billy got off at Central and El Cajon Boulevard and walked his way to El Modena Way where he once lived. But since his conviction as a sex offender, his parents moved away to San Juan Capistrano where they wouldn’t suffer the humiliation of having a son who raped a young boy. He hated his parents and when he was done raping Michael, he was gonna pay the old family a visit and kill them.
But first he would fuck Michael and rape him until he bled, then he would siphon his blood from his ass and drink until his belly was full – then bite his little cock off and eat it whole – balls as well. He’d ravage Michael until he had pulled a Hannibal Lector and consumed the boy’s flesh, knowing he had the boy of his dreams in his belly. Yes. He would do just that. But first he would have to kill Michael’s parents.
Billy reached the Lambert House. It looked as quiet as it last appeared. Its Colonial two-story facade with it storm shutters with its pointy steeple and the ceramic pots with their lively colored flowers adorning the main entry. It was the house of the American family. Now it would be the house of dead Americans. Billy snickered and headed for the rear.
He saw his old house next door and remembered fondly of the last time he had had Michael in his old room. One thing that the law never knew OR his parents was the fact that for nearly a week, Billy had been raping a four year-old boy he had abducted from a few blocks away. That had been two summers ago.
Little Jimmy Harris his name had been. Billy had acquired him easily by entering an unlocked back door. He had been napping in all his splendor on his bed when he carried the boy off. He carried him as quickly as he could sliding his tongue into the sleeping child’s mouth as he walked. It was fun to molest him while walking in public, know one peeking out their windows or looking out of their cars to catch him. He felt he was a becoming god, far greater than Hermes. In time, even if he died, Billy knew he was destined to be the next god.
He fucked that little boy, gagging his mouth with a cock shaped butt-plug that his mother used to keep up her crack when his father was out of town, working his pathetic job selling shit that nobody wanted, but he used her handy-dandy crack pacifier and shoved it in his mouth with all those dried cunt juices on the tip – applied duct tape around his mouth and stripped him naked. His pink ass called to him like whispering phantoms in the night. He licked that brilliant hole until it was raw then he mounted the child and rammed him until he was flooded full of come.
His mother or father never suspected a thing. Billy always stayed in his room hunkering over his Hewlett-Packard computer, downloading and trading kiddie porn. He had over six hundred floppy disks full of pictures. When he came down for meals, he safely secured his sex boy in the closet and filled his belly with his mother’s cooking. Come to think about it, Billy realized he had starved the boy and failed to give him water.
He raped that boy for days until Jimmy Harris slipped into a coma. After Billy had his way with him, the body washed up on the shore of a San Diego beach.
He loved being who he was. He loved the power and the god-like courage and he imparted his authority upon those he wanted and in a few minutes he would have Michael Lambert and consume his life force after he sexually ravaged his body.
Billy reached the French doors. He found them open and entered the quiet house.
Chapter 10
The baby lay peacefully cooing in his crib as Michael let the comforting streams of hot water sluice away the night as he showered.
When he finished and towel dried, he brushed his teeth and dressed. He was going to go downstairs and cook breakfast for Chris. It promised to be a great day… that is until he was grabbed from behind and seized in a tight grip.
Chapter 11
Billy heard the shower running. He expected to find Michael’s parents at home, but the house was silent and void. The drive was empty. He was alone with someone. He hoped it was Michael. If not, he would kill whomever he found and wait patiently until his dream came home from school. Death and sex. They appealed to him much the way a smooth Brandy and a cigar complimented a meal to the sophisticated.
Billy inched up the staircase like a cat and reached the second floor. The house was preternaturally silent, with the exception to the shower running.
He moved in close and heard the water cease. He waited for whomever was in there. If it was Mrs. Lambert washing her pussy, he thought he’d might take her crack for a ride, just to kill the time until his walking wet dream came home – then he could attack.
When the door opened and Michael Lambert walked out he was surprised. He reached out and grabbed the boy – covering his mouth with a sweaty palm and began to drag the boy toward the master bedroom. “Did you miss me, you little fuck?” Billy said. “I came to finish fucking you!”
Billy flung the startled boy onto the king size bed and threw a punch to his face, delivering blow after blow until Michael slipped into darkness.
Billy undressed Michael until he lay nude. He went downstairs and rummaged through the garage until he found duct tape – then returned. Michael lay unconscious as he layered the tape across his wrists, his mouth and feet. Those feet. Billy licked the boy’s freshly washed feet and toes, sucking on them.
He was shuddering with excitement. He stripped off his borrowed clothes and climbed over Michael’s body. He spread his ass cheeks in two and began lick. He had been hungry earlier that morning, but as he tasted Michael’s ass, Billy tasted the boy’s fleshy ass and could taste those butt cheeks. There was nothing like a boy. Girls were soft and had a taste all their own, but a boy had that texture that excited his tongue and loved licking the shit and drinking the pee.
He licked for ten minutes. He was disappointed that Michael had washed those precious aromatic juices. He would make him pay just for that. Billy bit Michael’s ass cheek hard, making the boy wake in pain – wiggling and straining at his restraints. “QUIT MOVING YOU FUCKING LITTLE BASTARD!” Billy shouted. Billy shoved his hard rod deep into Michael.
Chapter 12
Chris woke to a rumbling stomach. Michael was nowhere to be seen, but Mikey was laying in his crib. His cock grew hard as he was eager to slide into the baby’s ass, but he had to eat.
He slipped into a pair of black sweats and left the room. He walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen.
The room was empty.
He strained his ears to listen. Nothing. All quiet. He surmised that Michael had gone shopping at Walmart with his mother, leaving the baby in his care. It wasn’t the first time Mike had done this, but he normally woke him to tell him he’d be gone and that the baby was staying home, but not this time.
Chris shrugged his shoulders and went to the fridge. He poked at the contents snacking on cold chicken as he tried to decide if he was up to burning his breakfast. Michael was good at cooking. His mother had taught him how to take care of them and relied on him for his meals. He was grateful when Mike made those-
“QUIT MOVING YOU FUCKING LITTLE BASTARD!” A voice shouted from somewhere in the house. It was a voice he was unfamiliar with. Fear gripped his heart. The baby. He thought about his son and thought maybe a burglar had entered the house. Then he thought about Michael. He normally woke him when he was leaving the baby with him, but this particular morning he didn’t. Panic set in like fever and Chris went to the kitchen phone, lifted the receiver – dialed 911 – set the receiver on the kitchen phone quietly.
He moved quickly into the living room and picked up the fireplace poker and entered the foyer. He undid the dead bolt quietly and the bottom lock then climbed the staircase with the poker held in front of him. He had never felt so much fear coursing through him like now. It was like a heavy weight smothering him like choking molasses pooling in his throat.
When he reached the top floor he could hear the heavy gasps of what sounded like lovers in the sack – grunts and moans oozing out from the master bedroom. He crept toward the room, his arms like sacks of cement as he closed in on the sounds.
He saw the teenage boy over Michael – naked and ramming his cock in and out of his wife, drilling unmercifully brutal. Anger welled up deep into him causing his heart to flood with adrenaline and hate. He gripped the poker and charged. “Nooooo!”
Chapter 13
Billy felt a difference in Michael’s rectum. It felt loose and flexible. It didn’t have that tightness he loved, but he fucked him nonetheless. He rocked as fast and as hard as his body would allow. He rammed his hardened cock until Michael’s butt-cheeks totally consumed his penis. One stabbing push after the other, Billy rocked deep hoping he was tearing into him, hoping the blood was flowing and Michael was crying under his gag in pain, screaming his stifled cries to no one but himself.
His lungs screamed the urgency of his lust, filling the room with loud moans of breath as the bed rocked back and forth – biting into the drywall – leaving deep grooves. This god was becoming. He was maturing and feeling the power he had over his prey was more gratifying than the first time. He now understood why he was incarcerated. His time of god-hood had not come. He was vulnerable back then, but to elude his sentence at the Sheriff’s sub-station and arrive here undetected to find his dream at home was not luck but destiny.
He was about to let out a cry of erotic bliss when he heard the scream from behind. He whipped his head in quick fashion and saw the boy in black sweats. He couldn’t move fast enough to avoid being struck by the boy. Whatever he was holding in his hands connected with the side of his head and the force caused him to disconnect with Michael.
“Nooooo!” The boy shrieked.
Billy saw stars when he fell to the floor. A wave of nausea passed through him as vertigo threatened to send him onto his back. He saw the boy swing again. Billy moved as quick as he could and the metallic rod that had struck him the first time connected with his shoulder making him holler, but this time he was able to seize it in his hand. He pulled the little bastard towards him. The kid tried placing a kick, but lost his balance and fell on his ass.
Chapter 14
Chris swung hard and hit the prick on the side of his head making the raping fuck fly off of his wife. He checked on Mike to see if he was injured. Saw him squirming furiously – fear in his eyes as well as tears – then Chris turned to look at this wife raping son of a bitch. He appeared like a teenager no older than eighteen, but Chris didn’t give a rat’s ass how old he was. He wasn’t going to give in so easy.
He had failed Mike the first time by not being their when he was raped the first time – but here he was with a chance at redemption. He brought up the poker again and swung down hard – but the fucker was too quick. He moved enough to avoid another strike to the head and the poker struck the teen in the shoulder causing the him howl in pain.
Suddenly, the teen grasped the end of the poker and began reeling him in like a fish, inching closer to the rapist. He pulled as hard as he could, but Chris couldn’t resist the boy’s strength. He was bigger and stronger and Chris cried out in desperation as the teen seized his wrist.
Chapter 15
Officer Ed Foster arrived at 421 El Modena Way. It was reported as an unknown trouble 911 call with no hang-up. If he had a dollar for every time he went to a house with an unknown he’d be fishing in Baja. He knew it was some little snot-nosed toddler playing with the phone while mamma was busy yapping with gossip chattering women.
He’d arrive to knock on the door, only to confront a startled mother – give his usual admonishment – then continue the patrol. But he figured this was far better than working for the Border Patrol, riding the green and white cruisers looking for the wetbacks to cross the line so he could haul them back over only to catch the same ones later.
When he got the call to El Modena Way, he was a block from there. Good, he thought. The faster the better. He’d do the same routine and head back on patrol – perhaps swing buy Kepp’s Donut Hole for a fritter and java – then he’d feel better.
He turned onto El Modena and saw the house on the right. He parked the Caprice at the curb and got out. He walked up the steps and was ready to knock when he heard a scream pierce the door. He lifted his walkie-talkie and radioed for back-up – then tried the door.
Chapter 15
Billy grappled for a moment regaining control of the situation. He would teach this little puke to offend his god – he would make him suffer a painful death. Billy pushed the boy in black, hard against the wall and fell to his knees cradling his mid-section as the air was knocked out of his lungs.
Billy held onto the poker and aimed it at the kid, then readied himself to ram it into the boy, but as he took a step he heard the deafening sound explode in the room. He felt something… something strange strike him… not painful… but strange. He took another step then heard another loud detonation thunder through the room. He turned and saw the uniform clad deputy standing in a shooter’s stance – the cold silvery weapon held out in front.
Billy looked down upon his chest and saw the crimson holes in his chest. He coughed and spat up blood through his trembling lips as he realized what had happened. He was not done becoming. He was still achieving god-hood, but he felt the arms of death reaching for him.
There would be no royal throne awaiting him, no angel to praise and adore him – no royal bed filled with young boys that he could bed with – he was not going to be the god he thought he was, no powers – instead, Billy Callahan was to be nothing as he dropped the poker and collapsed onto his knees then slumped forward fading to nothing… then in brilliant speed, Billy saw dark orange – then heat, then he saw the roaring fires all around him and the unmerciful heat and realized where he was.
Chapter 16
The paramedics pronounced Billy Callahan dead at the scene. Michael cried, relieved as Chris held him and he held his baby. They were ushered into an ambulance and driven to Scripps. Michael remembered the procedure for a rape. He didn’t want a doctor probing his ass, but he figured one more time. Billy wouldn’t be bothering him or his family anytime soon.
As he lay on the gurney holding Mikey, he wept silently as Chris held his hand.
Epilogue
Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Allen had gotten over the trauma of that day, but the sting of horror never held Michael back. The love they shared and the passion only grew stronger and the bond that parents and child held strengthened. Chris continued to have his sessions with the baby and Michael continued to watch with immense pleasure as he watched – never saying a word as Chris pumped his seed into the baby’s belly and all over the baby’s rectum. Michael learned to lick that creamy juice out of Mikey’s bottom until the source ran dry.
Since that day in El Cajon, The Lambert family moved and settled in Corona Del Mar in the county just north of San Diego, never to think of the curse that once lived on El Modena Way.
THE END