A tale of a gay pedophile and the men he influences.
DISCLAIMER: The situations and events in this story are entirely fictional and the author does not condone the abuse of anyone and STRONGLY urges you to obey the laws in your jurisdiction. Any similarities between real persons living or dead are entirely coincidental. If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live or find sex between grown men and minors offensive, then please turn back now.

The author is eager to receive ALL comments and suggestions; these may be sent to and will be responded to as time allows.

The pedophile was found guilty of all charges. After a two-week trial, the sequestered jury had – during five hours of deliberation and reviewing the evidence – found Maxwell P. Cunningham guilty of multiple counts of child molestation, sexual abuse of underage boys, child endangerment and child pornography.

How could they not? The evidence had been overwhelming. In the amber light of a naked bulb, shoeboxes of Polaroid photos were revealed neatly stacked in Maxwell Cunningham’s emaculate closet, categorized by age (“1 MON to 2YO,” “3YO,” “4YO,” “5YO,” “6YO to 7YO,” and one box labeled “8YO+”), and totaling 1256 pictures in all. In the same closet, locked in two vertical filing cabinets, were hundreds of VHS videocassettes, audiocassettes and amateur DVDs. Each item bore a tidy label written in Maxwell Cunningham’s strangely regular print (he only ever used a black Sharpie): TOBY 4 BLD/GRN HJ/BJ/FCK, COLIN 2 BLK/BRN FNGRFCK/RMJB/BJ, SEAN 8 Mx5-GB/BKK, etc.

Maxwell Cunningham’s confiscated laptop offered many more examples of his proclivities. 120 gigabytes of memory contained over 300 video files in varying formats. Several zip drives (each meticulously labeled) yielded thousands of pictures files, the product of years scouring the internet, haunting little-known newsgroups and befriending other collectors like Maxwell Cunningham. His web browser harbored links to lurid online fiction, bookmarked and indexed according to author. The instant messaging software Maxwell Cunningham utilized had been hacked into by the justice department’s computer experts, who were pursuing any online trails to their respective ends.

But any results from those inquiries would have merely compounded Maxwell Cunningham’s already extensive charges. As the jury foreman – uncomfortable under the heavy focus of the entire courtroom – stood alone to announce the verdict, Maxwell Cunningham’s guilt was obvious.

Less obvious was the guilt of Nicholas Danby, juror number 10. While Maxwell Cunningham gazed toward the jury box, his expression calm and passive, his eyes held the stare of the tenth juror, who could do nothing but stare back, and sweat. Nicholas Danby slowly wiped his palms on the thighs of his pants, flexing and unflexing his fingers in order to resist the urge to squeeze the throbbing hardon which bent uncomfortably beneath his tight briefs. Maxwell Cunningham listened attentively to the drone of his conviction, his hands – which remained contritely crossed in front of his crotch – fiercely gripped his pedophile cock through his navy slacks, squeezing as the words “molestation,” “abuse,” “underage” and “pornography” were uttered. A hard edge entered his eyes and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth, but only slightly. Seeing this, Nicholas Danby cleared his throat, stifling a moan which threatened to erupt from his gut.


And it was over. The judge thanked the jury and they began to file out. Nicholas Danby stood up and crossed his hands over his crotch in a demeanor of solemnity and followed suit, shifting uncomfortably beneath his damp collar. His eyes remained resolutely in front of him, ignoring Maxwell Cunningham as he was handcuffed and slowly led away. The guard glanced at his crotch; the slacks weren’t so dark that it would have been impossible to discern the stain made by Maxwell Cunningham’s pedophile precum.

As they left the oppressive courtroom, juror number 6 – Thomas Crowley – moved quickly to Nicholas Danby’s side, whispering:

“Let’s get back to the motel quick. I gotta shoot a load in the worst way!”

The State v. Maxwell Cunningham: Day Three.

The courtroom television screen sparked to life, revealing a cheerily decorated nursery. Gazing nervously at the screen, the camera shakily approached the crib which now dominated the screen. Heavy, excited breathing underscored the scene, picking up pace as the camera focused in on a restless bundle swaddled in white, a tiny pink face protruding from the folds of clean cloth. Through the eyes of the cameraman, the jury beheld the 9 month-old boy from up above, his bright blue eyes focusing on the figure looming tall at the crib side.

A man’s hand entered the shot, the index finger extended like a small phallus, gently landing on the pug nose. Two tiny hands reached up to take hold of the finger and direct it to the open, receptive mouth, shiny with saliva. As the finger slowly entered the hot, moist hole, grazing the baby boy’s tongue – soft and textured – a guttural moan filled the room, slightly static-y in the television speakers.

The finger was retracted, escaping the baby boy’s firm grip, and disappeared from view. A soft, metallic stroke sounded off-screen and the picture shook suddenly, punctuated by the sounds of indeterminate shuffling.

A huge, erect penis – angry and red, pulsing slightly – thrust itself into view, guided by the bars of the crib.

A shocked gasp swept through the courtroom, followed by sounds of dismay and disturbed murmurs. Nicholas Danby’s eyes widened significantly, and his posture subtly adjusted toward the screen. His fingers tingled and vibrated with suppressed excitement as he felt his cock throb to full erection, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his slacks. He quickly adjusted his hard-on to lie flat against his pelvis, allowing it to extend to its full 7”, oozing out a few sweet drops of pre-cum in the process.

Maxwell Cunningham’s predatory eyes immediately reacted to the sudden movement, zeroing in on the nervous shifting of Nicholas Danby’s unexpected arousal. His pulse quickened with the thrill of recognizing a budding pedophile. Maxwell Cunningham consciously flexed his perverted cock, its engorged head expanding more than seemed possible within the confines of his slacks. Listening to the sounds of his own perversion rumble out of the fuzzy television speaker, he slowly moved his hand to his crotch, silently lowered his fly and unleashed his dripping piece of pedo-meat. Surreptitiously, Maxwell Cunningham masturbated himself, massaging his pre-cum into his dickhead with his middle finger – the same finger he’d used on the infant being so thoroughly molested on screen.

In his pedophilic excitement, Maxwell Cunningham recalled the feeling of the baby’s tiny hands grabbing his vein-y cock for the first time. He almost groaned along with his image on the television. The man on the television thrust his erection towards the boy involuntarily, grazing his cheek and leaving a wet slash over the pink skin. The penis was slowly pulled back until it hovered – trembling – over the tiny, slightly-puckered mouth, so close the baby’s breath tickled the rosy fold of skin just under the piss-slit.

Pushing down on the top of his hard-on, the man touched his penis to the moist lips. Warmth excited his cockhead, forcing a large dollop of clear honey from its dripping eye and into the infant’s mouth. With growing speed and force, the man humped his perverted penis back and forth across the baby boy’s mouth, masturbating himself frantically, losing himself in his unbridled perversion and boylust.

With a sudden movement, the man pulled his cock back, roughly turned the boy’s head to face the coming onslaught, and urgently sank his pedophile penis into the under-aged mouth. The struggling infant whined in discomfort but could not be heard over the man’s rhythmic grunting as he face-fucked his unwilling lover. The crib shuddered and rocked with the force of the man’s bucking hips. He was careless in his horny abandon, craving only sensation and the satisfaction of his overwhelming perverted urges.

The man’s balls pulled up tight, as the heat of his cum churned and almost boiled over. He stopped his brutal invasion of the baby’s mouth, gripping the side of the boy’s head tightly and clamping down with his Kegel-muscles, desperately holding off his impending orgasm. Only the sound of labored breathing prevailed, as the man stood rigid, every muscle tensed and focused on not releasing his load in the infant’s traumatized mouth. In the stillness, the 9 month-old boy instinctively began to suckle on the pedophile prick in his mouth, drinking down the steady stream of pre-cum which flowed liberally out of the engorged piss-slit. The man gasped as he fought his climax, twitching involuntarily.

After coming down a bit, the man gingerly pulled his penis from the baby’s clutching lips. The baby seemed numb with shock, not moving very much, except for his twitching lips and tongue. Seeing this gave the man another sick thought. He lowered the side of the crib and easily picked up the limp baby boy and quickly stripped the infant of his jammies and diaper, noting the pleasant odor of baby pee which wafted up from the rosy skin. The man easily lifted the limp body up and lay the child down on the cream-colored carpet and quickly straddled the baby’s face.

Slowly, the horny pervert lowered himself down to the floor, the mounds of his ass spreading naturally to expose his damp, hairy manhole. It fluttered and twitched in anticipation, mimicking a pair of hungry wrinkled lips – hungry – puckering for a kiss. The man stopped when he felt a warm puff of hair on his anus. He consciously flexed and relaxed his asshole as he pressed it to the chubby baby face. The boy responded to the movement, his lips lightly caressing the musky rosebud presented to him. The pedophile sighed in pleasure, almost laughing, and bore down harder on the tiny pink lips, pushing his hole out further to meet the baby kisses.

Suddenly he felt a wet, slimy tickle on his bared anus that sent a jolt from his balls to the tip of his cock.

“Oh FUCK!” the man shouted in total, perved-out bliss.

The baby’s tongue continued to explore the new landscape it had discovered, sending sheer pedophilic pleasure through the man’s body. The man began to slowly hump his hips, masturbating his turgid pole, luxuriating in the sticky, warm glory of his nasty fluids. The immature tongue found its way deeper inside the man’s asshole which opened like a hungry mouth to create a perverted French kiss between pedophile and boy.

As he continued to ride the baby’s face, the man gazed down at the tiny nub of boy-penis below him. Using the collected juices on his gooey hand, he slowly lubed up the little mound of pink flesh, baptizing it in pervert pre-cum. He paid close attention to the button mushroom head, tweaking it with his fingers. After a few moments, he was amazed to feel a slight stiffening. Soon, he was caressing a budding baby-erection, just an inch long, insignificant but pulsing with life. He licked his fingers, slopping them with spit, experiencing the subtle taste of boy flesh and piss.

The man continued his molestation of under-aged boner, using more of his saliva to lube the innocent boy’s genitalia until it dripped down the tiny scrotum in translucent rivers, through the crevasse between tiny balls and chubby thighs to the baby’s pure, unpenetrated hole. Once again wetting his fingers in his mouth, the man brought the tip of his middle finger to the hairless boy-asshole, lightly massaging it with tiny vibrations. The baby, not yet trained to fend off any potential invasions, allowed his tiny rosebud to open up to the perverted ministrations, almost sucking on the man’s finger.

Slowly, the finger entered the relaxed, young hole, meeting not the slightest resistance. The heat of that infantile asshole was almost scorching on the man’s probing digit. The man brought his finger back to his mouth, his pervert-tongue licking frantically at the boy essence that lingered there, breathing it all in through his nose, as he got more of his spit on his fuck-finger.

He shoved it back into the baby boy-hole, hard this time, and began to fuck the hairless boy-pussy with sick enthusiasm. A muffled sound came from between his ass-cheeks, vibrating his over-stimulated anus, as the boy’s hole clamped down tightly on his finger. The pedophile shouted his triumph, as he continued to batter the helpless infant asshole without mercy, his palm rubbing at the tiny baby-boner beneath this hand. He violently humped his perved-out cock against the hairless boy-belly, his balls resting on the baby’s chest, his wide-open ass still rubbing out its pleasure against the innocent face.

The man’s moaning became louder, punctuated by his gasping breaths, as he drove himself closer and closer to his perverted goal. His nasty juices covered the bare boy-flesh, lubricating the desperate humping of his pedo-dick. The boy’s asshole, submitting to the unrelenting molestation of the man’s finger, opened up further, allowing the pedophile – now possessed with perverted under-aged boy-lust – to probe further the moist depths.

For a few moments, the man’s body moved like a well-oiled machine fueled by pedophilic desire in a state of ecstatic pleasure, untouched by any other bodily needs except a driving yen to fulfill his sickest, nastiest appetites for man/boy sex.

Suddenly, his muscles tensed and he let out of deafening roar. The man’s orgasm swept over him like a tidal wave. Shot after shot of searing pedophile cum spewed from his engorged cockhead, painting the infant belly with streaks of creamy white. His body spasmed and vibrated like a plucked guitar string as man-juice continued to erupt from his throbbing pedo-dick, his asshole twitching on the boy’s mouth in frantic kisses. As his orgasm subsided, he rubbed his sensitive cock in the mixture of sweat and pre-fuck juice and cum on the baby’s body, enjoying the amplified sensations and perversion of what he’d just done.

Still on his knees, the pedophile eased back from the limp baby boy and began to lick up the combined fluids from the tiny body, paying close attention to the immature penis and the tiny navel. He brought his face to the infant’s and proceeded to lick the boy’s lips, tasting his own musky essence in the tiny mouth. He growled in a surge of perverted lust as his cock throbbed to life again.

“Oh fuck yeah, molesting my own son. You like that, baby? You like being daddy’s little fuck toy? Daddy’s gonna train you, baby. Daddy’s gonna make you so fucking good at pleasuring his dick. Gonna keep molesting you, baby! Yeah, gonna molested you and make you so perverted and nasty, just like your daddy. Mmmmm, like father like son, baby.”

The television screen went black.

A guttural roar echoed throughout the courtroom.


Maxwell Cunningham suddenly stood up at his chair, masturbating his penis furiously, as he shot a huge, nasty, pedo-load all over his counsel’s table, overcome with the memories of his own perversion. The court erupted in outrage. The members of the jury murmured in shock and horror as bailiffs came to quickly remove the pedophile from the courtroom, dragging him backwards by his arms, taking care not to touch his still-stiff cock, leaking its milky man-juice on his dark slacks.

For Nicholas Danby, the image of that wild untamed man and his pervert cock spurting his semen in pedophilic abandon opened up a dark, secret place in his mind. His impossible, forbidden lust for young, hairless boy-meat suddenly became not just possible, but preferable to anything he’d ever experienced or desired before. As Maxwell Cunningham gazed into Nicholas Danby’s eyes while being forcibly dragged back to prison, a plea seemed to be issued to the lust-stricken jury member – a plea to continue the perverted work so lovingly begun by the dedicated pedophile. And as Nicholas Danby stared back at his fellow brother in perversion, he would answer that plea.

After the disturbance in the courtroom, the judge adjourned for the day, allowing the juror some extra time before they were bussed back to their motel. Nicholas Danby immediately rushed to the men’s restroom on the top floor of the courthouse, as this was sure to be the least frequented, and he wanted to make sure he would be able to air out his persistent erection in semi-privacy.

He quickly pushed through the wooden door and made his way to the furthest of the two side-by-side urinals. Just as he had unzipped his fly, the restroom door was pushed open again. Startled, Nicholas looked over his shoulder to see the man who had been assigned to share his motel room, Thomas Crowley. The red-headed businessman had proved to be a friendly, well-educated man, prone to the occasional, but ever-amusing, off-color comment. His laid-back, straight-guy demeanor as a roommate was a welcome relief to the stressful intensity of the proceedings, and Nicholas Danby had immediately developed a fondness for that masculine ease.

Thomas immediately moved to the unoccupied urinal, and unzipped his pants.

“Some trial, huh?” he stated, pushing the boundaries of inanity.

“Yeah,” Nicholas replied, not able to do anything but pull out his erect cock and pray that he could manage to piss through his hard-on.

“I can’t believe they showed us that video,” Thomas continued, his heavy stream of piss beginning to flow. “Man, that was like the nastiest, most perverted porno ever made.”

Just hearing the words “nasty” and “perverted” made the blood surge into Nicholas’ rock-hard erection, further impeding his ability to urinate.

“I know. It was intense,” he said, distractedly.

“That guy is a sick fuck,” Thomas stated calmly, finishing up and giving his long flaccid cock a shake.


“Hey, something wrong?” Thomas asked, noticing that Nicholas had not even begun to relieve himself. He looked over at Nicholas, who was looking down helplessly at his hard-on. Thomas let his eyes wander to Nicholas’ crotch, seeing the man’s horned-up state and subsequent inability to do anything about it.

“Shit, man, are you turned on?”

Nicholas blushed crimson, and tried to hide his excitement.

“Sorry,” he sputtered lamely, “it’s just – it’s been a few days and I haven’t jacked off in a while and then the video and that guy cumming in court – “

“Fuck, that’s a nice hard-on you’ve got,” Thomas interrupted, reaching out and grabbing Nicholas’ erection, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the startled man. With his other hand, Thomas grabbed his own cock, still wet with a few drops of piss, and began masturbating it to rigid life.

“Man, you’re never gonna be able to piss with that thing,” Thomas laughed easily. With that, he took his own cock and rubbed the remaining drops of his piss on Nicholas’ pole, and proceeded to massage them together earnestly.

Nicholas couldn’t speak. His cock throbbed under Thomas’ ministrations, and he involuntarily reached under his shirt to tweak his nipples. Nicholas bucked his hips like an animal in rut, grunting hoarsely as Thomas masturbated them dick-to-dick.

“Oh fuck, man, you like it nasty, don’t you?” Thomas said, moving in closer to Nicholas. In a whisper, “I saw you get hot watching that video; knew you were a sick fucking pervert when I saw you grab that big boner of yours.” Nicholas’ breath caught in his throat, his entire body poised to make a quick escape. Thomas laughed softly at his apprehension, “Relax – I get into that nasty pedo-shit, too. I’ve been molesting my son since he was a newborn. I fucked him when he was only three years-old.”

Hearing this, Nicholas groaned deeply, his eyes rolling back in his head. Thomas continued his verbal stroking of Nicholas’ blossoming perversion:

“Yeah, my son’s five now, and he fucking loves his daddy’s big pedo-cock. He takes it like a pro – up his tight, hairless cunt, down his little throat, doesn’t matter. He loves his daddy’s nasty dick. Lately though, I’ve been thinking that he’s getting old enough to start meeting some new cocks. I can see him check out guys’ packages when we walk around, or try to sneak looks in the public restroom. Fuck, he even sprung a boner in the changing room at the public pool, watching all those naked men strut around with their dicks swinging. Yeah, he’s a cock-hungry little fucker.

“So,” Thomas said deliberately, “how’d you like to feed my son this big piece of meat?”

Thomas held Nicholas’ hefty cock in his right hand and firmly smacked it into his left palm, as if testing its weight and girth to see if this penis should be the one to continue his son’s education. He could feel it thicken measurably as Nicholas’ sexed-up brain processed the implications of what he’d proposed. Thomas’s voice continued to penetrate the heavy silence while jacking off their sticky erections:

“Think about it: your first taste of little-boy cock. He’s so fucking small you can fit his dick and his balls in your mouth at the same time. He loves that – starts to buck his hips and moan in this really high voice. You can’t imagine what it’s like to see an innocent little boy hump his boner into your mouth like a fucking sex-fiend, trying to make himself cum again and again.

“And you haven’t felt anything until you’ve felt a little boy’s dry orgasm – from the inside. He likes it when I finger him while I suck him off, and when he cums – fuck! – his tight, little cunt squeezes down so fucking hard, it’s like he’s trying to break my finger off. And his tiny dick starts throbbing and vibrating in my mouth, like his balls are trying to shoot out a load, but they can’t, but they keep on trying.

“I like to make him cum a few times. Afterwards, he’s so drained, he just lays there, his eyes glazed over, totally sexed-out of his fucking mind, and I can spread his legs and get at his hairless cunt so easy. His hole opens up so nice then, you can slide three fingers up there and he doesn’t even wince. Sometimes his little cocklet goes limp, but if you play with his pussy a little, it gets hard again, no problem. Once I get him opened up and ready, I get a good two-handed grip on his little boy-boner and slide my cock right on in up to my balls. Oh fuck, it’s so tight! And he squeals a lot and tries to squeeze it out, tries to push away from me with his little legs, but you know what? All the time he’s writhing and whining, his little stiffy never goes soft. It’s like a fucking nail in my hand.

“And I start fucking him. I slide in and out, slowly, building up a good rhythm. His hole is still twitching on my cock, and I can feel it all the way to my asshole. I fuck him a little faster now, really make him start to moan. He’s so fucking hot, like he might burn the skin on my dick, but I don’t care. I love fucking him! I love fucking my five year-old son! I love fucking little boys! I love being a nasty pedo-perv who wants to molest little under-aged boys! I want to get sick and twisted with another pedophile! I want to molest my little baby boy with you! I want to watch you fuck my son’s hairless boy-hole! I want you to shoot your nasty pedo-cum inside him and I want to eat it out of his hole! Come on, man, say you’ll fuck my son! Say we’ll molest him and suck him and fuck him together, man! Oh please, Nicholas! I’m begging you! Let’s be pedophiles together, Nicholas! Say it, Nicholas! SAY IT!”


Thomas quickly clamped his hand over Nicholas’ mouth as they both started to shoot their steamy pedo-loads all over their cock and balls. Nicholas cried out into the muffling hand while Thomas bit his lip, letting only a bestial growl rumble out of his throat. The fresh semen seemed to sting their torrid flesh, mixing with sweat, and slurping noisily between the two oozing cocks. Thomas released their softening dicks, allowing the excess cum to drip onto the tiled floors and their shoes. The silence rang in both their ears as regained their breath and composure. The two men looked at each other, not sure how to proceed within their newfound brotherhood.

“Now I really have to piss,” Nicholas said with a nervous laugh.

Judge McPherson reclined at his desk, enjoying the glow of the late afternoon sun as it cast slanted beams of warmth over his dozing face. The day’s proceedings had sapped much of his energy, and – after making a quick phone call – he had quickly retreated to the cool serenity of his chambers to rest and recharge. At a spry 63 years-old, he kept himself lean by spending an hour each morning on the treadmill, watching CNN and the lithe, young gymrats who cruised him in their gym outfits from Abercrombie & Fitch. Still, if he wasn’t careful and regular in his daily routine, he tired easily and would often adjourn court early so as to catch a leisurely nap in his comfortable, leather chair.

There was a soft knock on his door, and Judge McPherson opened his eyes, immediately alert. He sat up and quickly straightened his robe – which he hadn’t bothered to remove – and assumed his usual authority.

“Come in.”

A young, dark-skinned man in a police uniform opened the heavy wooden door, pushing a handtruck stacked with several large cardboard boxes marked “EVIDENCE.”

“You requested the evidence from the Cunningham case, Your Honor?” the man said, a slight Hispanic accent evident in his youthful speech.

“Ah, yes,” Judge McPherson confirmed. “You can put those in the corner over there.”

The young officer did as requested, rolling the boxes to the designated corner and smoothly slipping the handtruck out from underneath.

“Thank you very much. You can come back in two hours to collect them.”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” the officer interjected, “but I need to be present with the evidence at all times.”

Unaccustomed to contradiction, Judge McPherson rose to his full height and stared the young officer in his dark eyes.

“I said you may come back in two hours,” his commanding baritone practically echoing with gravitas.

The young man took a step back, visibly intimidated. Still, he tightened his sweaty grip on the handtruck and squared his shoulders to the older man.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor, but I need to be present with the evidence at all times,” he repeated firmly.

There was a tense silence as Judge McPherson inhaled sharply through his nose; the officer did not dare to breathe, lest any audible tremor give away any advantage he might have.

“What’s your name?” the judge asked.


Judge McPherson’s eyes traveled down the length of the officer’s trim young body, focusing in on what appeared to be a sizable bulge flanked by two muscular thights.

“Alright, Dante,” the older man said, “lock the door and don’t say anything.”

Dante did as ordered, quickly closing the door and turning the lock, his relief evident in his slightly labored breathing and the sheen of sweat that sprung out over his body. He turned back to find Judge McPherson already going through the first of the boxes and starting on the second. Lifting the lid on the third box, his hands began to tremble slightly at the sight of neatly packed VHS videos with their meticulously written stickers. He slowly ran his finger across the rows of tapes, scanning the abbreviations, doing his best to decipher the odd codes, and finally selected one labeled “MAX JR. 4 3SM-BJ/RMJB/FCK.”

Judge McPherson moved to the television which stood to the side and quickly popped the video into the VCR, powering up the TV at the same time.

“Sit down, Dante,” he said, moving to the windows and shutting the blinds with a sly grin. “Glare,” was all he said, grabbing the remote control off his desk and settling back in his chair. Dante sat in the chair on the other side of the judge’s desk. “And…play.”

A hairless four year-old asshole winked hungrily over a tiny pair of marble-sized boy-balls suspended in a smooth pink scrotum. Two thighs spread invitingly, bent at the knees, on a large white bed. A young back sloped down from tantalizing mounds of boy-flesh to two resting shoulders and a face pushed gently into the mattress. The immature testicles bobbed and swayed gently as a large hand covered in a dark pelt of fur slowly masturbated the boy’s small penis to its full two inches.

“Oh, mother fucker!” Judge McPherson groaned, immediately grabbing his expanding erection through the layers of his robe and trousers.

The exclamation startled Dante, causing him to quickly look at the judge whose eyes were focused on the screen, a look of foul perversion distorting his once amiable features. The frightening change in the older man caused Dante to involuntarily grasp the small cross which hung around his neck. His first instinct was to get up and run from the office, to get away from the fiendish pervert before him who – possessed with pedophilic lust – continued to massage his groin with fervent intensity. But, no, Dante did not leave. His sweaty hands clutched at the arms of his chair and his legs pushed themselves against a feeling of growing claustrophobia, but he remained seated. His brown eyes remained fixed on Judge McPherson as a growing warmth seemed to infuse his pelvis and arouse his tingling dick.

Another man’s finger began to tease the wrinkled boy-pucker, alternately poking the tight opening lightly and rubbing tiny circles around the clean, pink anus. The man sucked on his finger for a moment, and returned it to the young asshole, pushing the tip in up to the knuckle. The well-trained hole accepted the finger willingly and the man began to move it in and out with ease. The man soon pulled his moist finger out of the boy’s hole.

“Have a taste of this, man,” Maxwell Cunningham said, holding his finger out to the masked man who was stroking the tiny boy-boner. The masked man opened his mouth and hungrily nursed on the nasty digit. “You like that, man? Like the taste of my boy’s hole?”

“Fuck yes!” the masked man answered, furiously jacking his own cock which slopped pre-cum all over his fist.

“Wanna taste that boy-funk right from the source, stud?”

“Oh yes, please!”

“Then ask like you mean it.”

“Goddamn Max, let me eat your son’s pussy for fuck’s sake!”

“Go for it, pedo,” he said with a laugh, moving out from behind his son.

The masked man quickly moved into position and buried his face into the young, hairless crack. He opened his mouth wide to allow his perverted tongue to snake its way into the tight, young boy-pussy. It undulated wildly, tasting the boy from the inside, prodding and lapping at the pulsing sphincter which seemed to dance erotically with the molesting muscle. The four year-old moaned in his high-pitched squeal, thrusting and humping his slender hips in a perverted motion that made Maxwell’s pedophile cock throb.

“That feel good, baby?” he said to his writhing son. He gently tousled Max Jr.’s hair and lightly bounced his springy erection on the boy’s face, presenting it to be sucked. Max Jr. knew the signal well and immediately opened his mouth, allowing his father to slide his daddy-dick in past the pink boy-lips. The boy swirled his tongue around the flared cockhead, just the way his dad had taught him when he was three, as the masked man continued to eat out his hairless boy-cunt. When the man would become more fervent in his oral-worship of the under-aged anus – driving his perverted tongue deeper into the moist boy-cavern, or using his teeth to nibble and stimulate the puckered pussy-ring – Max Jr. would do the same on his father’s cock, increasing the suction drastically or fucking the tip of his tongue into the oozing piss-slit.

Dante continued to watch as Judge McPherson lifted his black robes, fumbling with his belt buckle and quickly shucking his pants down to his ankles. His boxers tented obscenely as his boner pushed against the thin cotton fabric, aching to be released, as if it too desired to see the perverted acts being played out on the television screen. Judge McPherson pulled off his underwear, revealing a thick, veiny nine-inch cock, adorned with a Prince Albert which glinted in the television’s glare.

Dante’s eyes widened at the sight of the monstrous erection which jutted up from the folds of Judge McPherson’s groin like a pedophile-dowsing rod, vibrating as it points the way to sources of undiscovered perversion. He discerned a drop of clear juice oozing from the piss-slit and run down the curve of the steel ring, dripping onto the judge’s hairy balls. Some part of Dante wanted to catch the next drop on his tongue, lapping up the sticky discharge right from the torpedo-shaped pedo-prick. His stomach did a nervous flip as he watched Judge McPherson gather up the length of his robe around his rigid shaft and sensually hump his hips up and down in his leather chair, fucking his dick into the makeshift boy-cunt. The sight of the nasty, pedophile judge wallowing in his own perversion caused Dante’s uncut cock to snake along his thigh, constricted by the leg of his trousers which seemed to grow tighter with each pulse of blood that engorged his erection. The oversized head pushed out of the sticky sheath of foreskin, creating a trail of cock-slime in the dark hair on his inner thigh.

Dante could no longer resist the need to grope himself, and he began to squeeze and massage his tumescent pole as it ached to be released. His head swam with the overwhelming sensations and desires which seemed to heat his entire body like a fever. Dante’s gaze moved to the television screen and for the first time really saw the twisted acts being performed on the four year-old boy.

The masked man began to finger the spit-sloppy boy-hole, sliding one, then two, then three of his fat hairy fingers through the tight, pink anal-ring. He screwed his fingers back and forth, stimulating the sensitive pussy and causing muscle contractions to squeeze him deliciously hard.

“Oh my fucking Christ, it’s so tight!” the masked man groaned. He quickly pulled his fingers out of the hairless asshole, watching it gape open at the sudden emptiness, offering a fleeting glimpse of the boy’s pink inside. Before the over-stretched sphincter could fully contract to the tight, tiny rosebud pucker, the masked man speared it hard with his pointed tongue, lodging the wiggling invader deeper than ever inside Max Jr.’s boy-cunt. The masked man thrust his tongue so far inside the boy he began to gag at the strain, but so eager was he to taste and savor the innermost chambers of the under-aged anus, the tip of his tongue continued to probe the moist boy-cunt like some demonic instrument of perversion.

Max Jr. cried out around the girth of his father’s pedo-meat as the masked man’s oral onslaught of his under-aged asshole continued with growing intensity. Maxwell looked down in approval at the thorough molestation of his young son by two nasty pedophiles, continuing the rhythmic fucking of his daddy-dick into the slurping boy-mouth. He landed a quick, hard smack on his son’s upturned butt, eliciting a startled squeal from the four year-old sex slave.

“Yeah, stud, get that little boy-cunt lubed up and ready for your big fucking pedo-cock!” Maxwell encouraged, lustily.

The masked man obliged, spitting globs of saliva onto the winking boy-pucker and shoving it inside with his pointed tongue. The mixture of spit and sweet boy-juice made for an effective lube and inspired the masked man to stand up and slap his thick piece of man-meat against the immature asshole, which winked back in invitation. The nasty sound of pedo-flesh smacking against wet, sloppy boy-pussy drove both perverts into a frenzy.

“Do it, man, fuck my boy,” the pedophile-father urged.

“Do it, fucker!” Judge McPherson groaned simultaneously.

Dante found himself echoing those sentiments in his mind. He had no idea what was possessing him, but the perversion of the deviant judge masturbating his throbbing erection as well as the images of two pedophiles molesting a four year-old boy on the television screen infected him like a disease, causing the young man to lose control of his body. His cock begged – no, demanded! – to be stroked, squeezed, masturbated, jacked, milked. Dante frantically unzipped his fly and pulled out his dripping meat. He moaned lustily as he fisted the length of his dick, shucking his juicy foreskin back and forth over his flared mushroom-head.

“Nice fucking cock, Dante,” Judge McPherson growled, attending to the wet sound of slapping foreskin. “Show it to me, boy!”

Dante was more than happy to oblige, rising from his chair and standing at the edge of the large desk, presenting his Latino prick for the judge’s inspection, like a new piece of perverted evidence. Judge McPherson reached across his desk and wrapped his hand around Dante’s erection, feeling the smooth skin undulate beneath his touch. He used his thumb and forefinger to grab hold of the folds of foreskin around the sticky cock-head and tugged it not-so-gently, eliciting low, guttural sounds from the younger man.

“Beautiful boy-fucking cock,” the judge whispered, feeling Dante’s erection grow even harder at his perverse suggestion. “Yeah, you’d fill up some hairless, little boy-pussy so good; make that little slut cum over and over with this big piece of meat fucking in and out of his tight, young asshole.”

“Oh yeah, papi,” Dante groaned, wallowing in the filth and perversion all around him, bucking his hips back and forth as if he could somehow drive his being deeper into the obscenities and blasphemies which his soul newly craved.

“Come over here and suck my cock,” the judge ordered.

Dante immediately obeyed, circling around the judge’s desk and kneeling between the older man’s spread legs. Judge McPherson’s cock stood tall and rigid and powerful, the steely piercing glinting in the glow of the television screen. Dante eagerly took hold of the turgid shaft with one hand and guided the crimson-flared head to his hungry mouth. His lips enveloped the Judge McPherson’s erection in a searing, wet warmth that instantly caused the judge’s hairy balls to draw up close to the base of his erect shaft.

“Oh, FUCK!” Judge McPherson cried, grabbing handfuls of Dante’s dark, thick hair and driving his cock deeper into the young man’s throat. Dante gagged on the sudden intrusion, his throat muscles squeezing and massaging the judge’s penis and sending him deeper into perverted bliss. The judge continued to hump his cock into the sloppy wetness of Dante’s mouth, imagining he was sliding forcefully into an under-aged boy’s well-used anus.

The masked man pressed the head of his pedophile prick against the tiny, immature boy-pucker, meeting only the resistance of size: a young, small hole trying to accommodate the invasion of an over-sized probing penis.

“Push out, baby,” Maxwell coaxed huskily. “Let the big man inside your little pussy.”

Max Jr. made a concentrated effort to allow the masked man to penetrate his pink rosebud, gripping the bed sheets and pushing on his ass muscles, trying to expand his hairless anal ring. The horny four year-old reached back with his hands, using them to pull his smooth boy-buttcheeks apart, further exposing the straining pucker-hole to the anxious pedophile. Suddenly, there was a momentary lapse in the tiny asshole’s muscular resistance, and the masked man’s penis slid through the winking ring into the warm insides of an under-aged boy anus.

“SHIT!!!” the masked man cried out in amazement, drowning out the cock-muffled cries of the four-year old boy as his immature cunt was violated by the perverted prick. The masked man remained frozen, buried balls deep in tight, hot boy-pussy, trying desperately not to let his pedo-load boil over as Max Jr.’s involuntary muscle contractions squeezed and milked the invading erection, slowly becoming accustomed to its immense girth. The masked man’s chest heaved violently as he tried to calm himself down. “Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it’s so fucking tight…fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…”

“Then feel this,” Maxwell said, reaching down under his son and quickly tweaking the erect boy-nipples. Like clockwork, the boy’s tiny erection throbbed and his little asshole clenched even tighter around the masked man’s throbbing member, forcing a loud, chesty groan from the over-stimulated boy-molester.

“Mother fucker!” the masked man cried out, involuntarily thrusting his pedo-cock deeper into the four-year old boy-pussy. Little Max Jr. cried out, feeling the nasty fuck-stick up inside his stomach. The high pitched squeal penetrated into the masked man’s perverted brain, driving him insane with boy-lust. Like an animal in rut, the pedophile began his frantic assault on the grotesquely distended boy-anus, incessantly driving his sloppy man-meat in and out of Max Jr.’s under-aged hole, the nasty mixture of saliva, pre-cum and anal juices frothing into a creamy ooze which splattered everywhere from the slapping of pedo-flesh against immature boy-ass.

“Holy shit, man, look at that pedo-fucker go!” Judge McPherson groaned, moving Dante’s mouth off his leaking erection, and turning directing the younger man’s gaze to the perverted scene on the television.

“Dios mio,” Dante muttered, masturbating his uncut meat with added intensity, milking his dick-honey out into the folds of his foreskin.

Dante felt himself suddenly being hoisted up by his armpits and turned towards the Judge’s desk. The younger man felt a firm, undeniable pressure on the nape of his neck, and soon he found himself bent over the oaken surface.

“I need your hole, boy,” the judge growled, ripping down Dante’s pants and sliding one, then two, exploratory digits up into the younger man’s asshole. Dante gritted his teeth against the sudden intrusion and tried to push himself upright, but Judge McPherson’s strong, muscular arm held him firmly in place. “Hold the fuck still,” the older man commanded. “Just watch the tape, boy, and enjoy it. You wanna fuck little boys like the real men, you gotta take it too!”

Judge McPherson used one hand to his desk drawer and pull out his jar of lube, flicked open the top with his thumb, and squeezed a huge glob on his impatient hard-on and the dark, winking Hispanic asshole. He aimed the glinting metal of his cock-piercing at Dante’s hairy anal-entrance and slowly began to push against the tense, sweaty sphincter.

“Go on, man, fuck him!” Max urged from the television speaker. Judge McPherson obliged.

The masked man heeded the four year-old’s father, increasing the tempo of his pedo-fuck. He knew he couldn’t last much longer, the excitement and heat of the moment rising in his blood, his labored breathing betraying his impending orgasm to his perverted companion..

“C’mon, you nasty fuck,” Max encouraged, jacking the shaft of his penis while Max Jr. nursed on his daddy’s flared cockhead, his thin, little lips glistening with boy-spit and clear pedo-juice. “Breed my boy, man! Shoot your fucking load up inside his asshole! Fill him up good! Make it nice and hot and wet for me! I wanna slide my cock in on your cum; feel my dick slopping around in that nasty pedo-spooge while I pound my boy’s hole! I’ll even let you lick the your jizz off my boy’s cocklet while I’m fucking him!”

“Oh Max, I’m gonna cum!” the masked man announced as he thrust himself deeper and faster into Max Jr.’s asshole. “I’m gonna CUM! OH SHIT! OH FUCK! HERE IT COMES! OH FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!”

With one final cock-lunge, the masked man began ejaculating his pedo-seed into the tight confines of Max Jr.’s tight, little boy-pussy. The rhythmic throb of the pedo-perv’s flaring cockhead as it spewed out shot after shot of searing man-lava pressed on the four year-old’s immature prostate, forcing the boy to his own wrenching orgasm. His tiny limbs shook violently as the pedophile-induced climax racked the frail, hairless body, his tight little asshole milking more and more perv-semen out of the masked man’s man-shaft.

“OH FUCK, MAN, MAKE MY LITTLE BOY CUM!” Max shouted over the whines of his four year-old son and the grunts of his pedophile-companion. His hand moved around the boy’s slim torso to feel the vibrating little dicklet as it pulsed and twitched, his marble-sized testicles trying desperately to force out the cum it had not yet begun to make.

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnngh!” Max Jr. whimpered as his father continued to masturbate his over-sensitive boy-penis.

“Yes, baby, cum for your daddy,” Max cooed, persisting with his stimulation of the four year-old’s tiny meat. “Keep fucking him, man!” he ordered the masked man, who had come down somewhat from his boy-fucking climax.

The two nasty pedophiles continued their molestation of Max Jr.. The masked man’s cock sluiced through the perv-jizz that oozed out of Max Jr.’s over-stretched anal-ring. The creamy mess dripped down the hairless boy-taint onto the tight, smooth ballsac. Max slid his fingers into the river of combined pedo-spooge and boy-juices and spread it liberally over the turgid cocklet, wanking more deliberately on the boy-stiffie.

The boy’s vocalisms began to pick up speed, becoming higher and wilder. He was no longer able to hold himself up on all fours, his back arching down from his upturned, receptive ass to his face resting on his cheek, arms limp at his side. Helplessly, the four year-old clawed at the bed sheets while the two unrelenting perverts continued their molestation of his hairless boy-body in earnest. Suddenly, Max Jr. tensed up and let out a throaty cry as his second orgasm coursed through his tiny frame. His father milked his pricklet firmly while the masked man fucked the boy’s sloppy anus, adding to the onslaught of stimulation Max Jr. was experiencing.

His cries grew louder and more desperate as the pedophiles refused to let up. A prisoner to the overwhelming sensations, the four year-old sobbed out his groans, his body vibrating like a muscle worked too hard. The intensity of his second orgasm finally ebbing, Max Jr. fell limp on the bed. The two pedophiles gazed intently at each other, their breathing labored from their excitement

“Think he can go for three?” Max said to the masked man, his eyes gleaming.

Dante’s eyes were fixated on the television screen, taking in the extreme perversion on display, as the older man steadily fucked his hairy asshole. His uncut cock remained fully engorged, each thrust of the sex-crazed judge’s powerful tool seeming to force more and more blood into the younger man’s bloated meat. The oaken desk rocked with the rhythm of Judge McPherson’s fucking.

“You like watching those nasty fucking pedophiles molesting that little four year-old boy? Bet you’d like to be the one in the mask, sliding that big Latin dick up inside his tight boy-pussy. Or maybe you wanna be some sick, twisted pedo-dad, molesting his own boy, whoring his own son out to be molested by other fucking perverts. Nothing too nasty or twisted for you, huh, stud? Pervert! Pedophile-pervert! Take my pedo-cock you sick fuck! Gonna turn you into a nasty pedophile! Fill your asshole with my pedo-cum! Bless you and baptize you with my perverted seed! Yeah, you wanna be a sick, twisted, perverted baby-fucker like me, stud? You want that? DO YOU???”

“OH FUCK YES!!!” Dante groaned, the trail of clear cock-slime which dripped from his leaking piss-slit exploding in a torrent of creamy jism onto the hardwood floor. The mushroom head of Judge McPherson’s pierced man-meat battered the younger man’s sensitive prostate, milking his hairy balls dry. Judge McPherson’s own load quickly followed, filling the younger man’s innards with slick, sloppy heat until it could do nothing but seep out between the light and dark flesh of the two panting pedophiles.

“Please…please…” Dante whispered between breaths.

“What is it, pedo?” the judge asked, leaning down close to the younger man’s dry lips.

“Please…put in another video.”

To be continued, hopefully. I’m anxious for comments, criticisms, praise, flames, and especially suggestions. E-mail me at Thanks for reading!

Anonymous readerReport

2015-03-14 11:16:19
Write more please! Made my pussy so wet

Anonymous readerReport

2015-01-24 07:13:13
Sexy story..... I have a pedo friend, he'd love this.

Anonymous readerReport

2014-03-22 20:24:18
H0zfIE I really liked your article. Great.

Anonymous readerReport

2014-01-31 15:31:24
Bhrb46 Thanks again for the article post.Thanks Again. Fantastic.

anonymous readerReport

2013-10-24 07:50:03
fGdvw8 Thanks a lot for the blog article.Really looking forward to read more. Will read on...

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