The boy named Piggy. What a little faggot. He's tied spread eagle; both legs and arms tied to the bedpost. He just took his 10th load up his red, raw gaping twat. His little clit tied obscenely as to make sure it's never hard. He's gagged, to stifle his screams, as anonymous after anonymous big dicked man comes stumbling in dark to find a warm gooey hole to fuck hard and deep.
Nothing turns me on more than knowing my little fag is being used by real men who need a hole to unload in. A man is a man and he sometimes needs a warm pussy for his cock. I posted an ad on one of my chat rooms I frequent, stating that his little hole is up for use by any and all men who will work him over good! They are all familiar with Piggy. I like to sit him on my lap and spread his little cheeks apart so they can get a good look at his 4 year old baby fag pussy. Shoving my fingers in deep and slapping his little balls. At first, I would only show him off; until men starting offering me big bucks to fuck him silly.
He's never known anything else. He's been sucking my thick, 9 inch cock since he was barely out of diapers, and he's been taking it up his little fag snatch for the last 2 years. His mother died a few years after he was born, and since we lived a very secluded and isolated life, I had him all to myself with no interference. The night his cunt mother died, I took him to bed with me. I laid him down on his back and took his diaper off and went to town. I ate his little fag pussy hard; getting my tongue deep and sticking my finger in to the knuckle. I nibbled on his little penis, which he has come to know it as his clittie. He's not allowed to touch it and if he does, I slap his little sack. His clittie is nothing and although i love to nibble on it, his pleasure means nothing to me and my cock is all that matters.
After eating his pussy for a good half hour, I decide to introduce him to his new favorite toy. My cock. I sit on his chest with my cock directly in his face.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade
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Changes last made on: Wednesday, January 31, 2018