Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Lost Everything Chapter 05, Mb By Jack B Pink (jack.b.pink@yandex.com)
http://www.asstr.org/~JackBPink/ Codes: Mb(8), Mm, oral, nc, cp
Please be aware that this story describes, in erotic detail, sexual
interactions between males and between adults and minors (both over and
under 14).  The author vehemently discourages and condemns any sort of
adult-child abuse including sexual abuse - even if all parties involved are
"consenting" at the time.  Seriously.  It's not worth destroying a child's

life to get off.  Just read these harmless stories.

   This story is meant solely for entertainment purposes, not instruction.
Please do yourself a favor and DON'T harm or abuse any real children.

   The characters and events depicted in this story are completely
fabrications and in no way relate to real people or real events.  Any
appearance of similarity to real persons or events is completely
coincidental.

   ***I thrive on feedback.  If you enjoy this or any of my other stories,
I'd love to hear from you.  If I made you cum, let me know (consider it
payment ;) ).***

   - Chapter 5 Benny Gets Mouthy

   Three Months Ago The brown haired boy of eight sat on the small bed in
the plain room alone.  He was hugging his knees and rocking slightly back
and forth in fear.  The last time Benny had been in this room, that man,
Buck, had done stuff to him that he'd always been told it was wrong.  A lot
of the stuff that man did to him Benny didn't like, like when he'd peed
that white stuff onto his face.  But other stuff was nice.  Looking back,
Benny liked the physical intimacy Buck gave, and he really like what Buck
did to his bottom, as long as he didn't think about it being his bottom. 
But this stuff was wrong.  He knew that.  And he knew he was being bad
liking it.

   Benny was very confused.  He liked some of that stuff, but he didn't
like that he was forced to do it.  He knew his father would find him so all
he needed to do was fight off for a little longer.  But he was back in this
room.  Benny tried not to look at that table and chair on the opposite
wall. He tried to ignore the camera hanging from the ceiling pointing at
him on the bed.  But they were there.  And he was here in this room.  He
knew what that meant even before the door unlocked and that man, shirtless
in tight jeans and black army boots walked in at the room and smiled at
him.

   Now Adam Smithington leaned back in his chair, gulping a mouthful of
whiskey, letting it stew on his tongue before allowing it to burn down his
throat.  He liked whiskey.  It made him forget things, even if only for a
short while.  Like his son and the abuse.  He had searched and searched,
but his expert investigative skills failed him.  He had failed.  He lost
his children, all three of them.  His eldest son had chosen to become
deviant sodomite, no surprise.  His daughter, he had no sign of, but he
knew she was undoubtedly a sex slave.  His history as a prosecutor left no
doubt in his mind about that.  But worst of all, his baby boy, his pride
and joy, Ben, honored to be named after Smithington's own father, was a
forced sex show for the millions of perverts of the world.

   And there was nothing he could do about it.  His leads were dead ends.
He failed.  This was the end.

   *RING*

   The phone interrupted his self-pity.  Odd.  Nobody knew this number. 
After the expense of his fruitless search, he was forced to sell his estate
and now lived in this dingy apartment.  They charged rent weekly.  He
wasn't trusted to honor his debts.  Probably a smart assumption.

   He picked up the phone.  "Hello."

   "Smithington?  It's Agent Cutter." Came the crackle through the speaker
in the handset.

   "Cutter." Smithington replied tonelessly.

   "Yes.  From the UN Taskforce-"

   "I remember you," Smithington cut in, "What do you want."

   The voice on the other end of the line hesitated.  Then, "They've
released another video of Benny."

   "His name is Ben," Smithington's chest tightened, "and I don't want
anything to do with it.  It's too late for him.  I'm done."

   "Don't give up.  This one is very revealing.  They made a big mistake. I
think we know where they are, but we need you.  You have the most
experienced with this group.  You know them and more about their bases than
any of us.  I think," Cutter's voice grew excitedly hopeful, "I think, with
your help, we can find them, and quickly."

   Smithington didn't respond.

   "Smithington.  You're wrong.  It isn't too late for Ben.  He needs you."

   Smithington took a deep breath.  No.  He couldn't give up.  He wouldn't
give up.

   "Okay.  Where are you Cutter?"

   ***

   Cutter stood as Smithington entered his hotel room.  Wordlessly, he
pulled over a chair for the be grieved but determined father and started
the video.  Cutter had watched it twice before contacting Smithington as
instructed, and once again waiting for him.  He'd cum all three times,
hoping to calm himself down.  Last time, he almost blew his cover, but
Smithington had been too distracted.  He would be much more focused and
prepared this time.

   On screen, Benny sat in the middle of a twin sized bed with Ninja
Turtles sheets on it.  An obvious, but classic setting that gay pedophiles
loved.  Good choice, Cutter thought to himself.  Almost as good a choice a
what the boy was wearing: a light blue shirt, with some sort of print on
the front.  Whatever the shirt said, it was obscured by the boy's legs that
were the main attraction, silky smooth, pale white, protruding out of the
very skimpy navy blue cotton shorts.  The eight year old was obviously
oblivious to what he was displaying, but how he held his legs, gave the
camera, and by extension, the internet, a frustrating tease.  The leg holes
of Benny's shorts were wide open and had slipped down.  It looked like the
boy wasn't wearing any underwear because the hairless globes of his cheeks
peeked out.  Except there was a thin red band that ran along the boy's
waist above his shorts.  It was a pervert's view, and each time he saw it,
Cutter's penis jumped to erection, including this time as he sat next the
boy's father.

   Smithington didn't notice the unintentional sexuality of the pose, but
then again, he wouldn't would he?  He only had eyes for his boy.  His
stare, unwavering, somehow mixed impending horror and intense rage at the
same time.  Cutter knew he had to play his hand well, because if he slipped
up, and gave Smithington the hint that he was enjoying Benny's abuse,
nothing would save him.

   He pushed these fears aside as Smithington growled threatening.  On
screen, the bearded, shirtless man leaped onto the bed, launching the
scared little boy four feet in the air.  The bounce caused Benny's arms and
legs to flail helplessly.  Buck was surprisingly deft as he caught his
captive as a man carried his bride to her wedding night deflowering. 
Before the boy realized what was happening, the large man dropped to the
bed, with the boy under him.  The two faced each other - the man grinning
in glee, the boy clearly terrified, but also clearly trying to hide that.

   The man didn't hesitate at all.  He pressed his stomach onto the boy,
smashing him to the bed.  The boy gave a quiet grunt as his body
disappeared under his molester's.  The man began to roughly stroke the boy
sides and arms as he lowered his mouth to the boy's.  Benny fought, turning
his head, trying to prevent the man from his goal, but failed.  The man's
lips engulfed the boy's entire mouth.  The eight year old eyes glared into
space.

   Beside him, Cutter could see Smithington's body beginning to convulse in
anger.  The man would snap.  He knew it, but he also knew that he couldn't
be anywhere near when he did.

   * * *

   Three Months Ago Benny lay there trying not to think.  He knew he had no
power here.  He knew he could do nothing to stop this man.  So he put all
his energy into not thinking.  If he thought, he would be thinking about
the second real kiss in his life.  That it was the second kiss that this
man had given him.  If he allowed himself to think, he would think about
the scratchy-yet-soft beard tickling his lips.  He would think about the
thick whet tongue poking the back of his throat, sliding along his teeth,
massaging his own, much smaller, prepubescent tongue.  For a moment, he
thought of being a rebel.  He thought of biting the big thick tongue.  But
he didn't think that would help.  Besides, this wasn't so bad.

   Yet.

   The man, Buck, was moaning.  Benny could feel the man's saliva dribble
onto his little tongue as the man's taste buds, aroused, began to drip. 
Benny could feel the man's hardness on his thigh.  Buck began to grind into
it.  Benny knew what this hardness was.  It was the man's pecker.  It was
hard when it peed white stuff on his face.  Benny hoped the man wouldn't do
that again, but knew he probably would.  Buck had REALLY liked that for
some reason.

   Buck continued to rub Benny's little eight year old boy body, squeezing
his sides and arms.  Benny, trapped under the enormous immovable pedo bulk,
just lay there, trying to keep his mind blank, pretending this wasn't
happening to him.

   Then it started.  The man eagerly pushed Benny's shirt up his sides and
tummy.  The man backed off a bit, releasing the boy's mouth so he could
slip the shirt over Benny's head.  Benny tried not to, but found himself
looking into the dark green eyes of his captor.  Buck caught the boy's gaze
and his beard split into a wide smile as he started massaging and admiring
the boy's smooth, taught chest and stomach.  Benny tried not to enjoy it.
He really did.  Instead, he found himself pushing back against the meaty
hands for more.

   Buck scooted down, slipping his hands down the boy until they were at
the top of Benny's waist.  The boy didn't move.

   "Good boy," Buck murmured to his victim.  Tears of shame at what he was
allowing came to Benny's eyes.  But what could he do?  He was only eight.

   The hands at his waist began to move down again taking the boy's shorts
off.  Benny closed his eyes and the tears ran down his cheeks.  He felt
Buck lean back over him.  Chest to chest, the man slipped his hand behind
Benny, hugging him.  This was nice.  Benny, without thinking hugged the man
back, desperate for any form of kindness despite the man's obvious ulterior
motive.

   The man lifted up, bringing Benny with him, then turned so he sat on the
bed, feet on the floor.  Benny still rested against the hairy man-chest,
stood awkwardly on the bed in a squatting position.

   * * *

   Now Cutter suppressed a gasp at the view as Smithington moaned in
emotional pain for his kid.  The picture on the screen: a small, very white
eight year old boy, back facing forward, engulfed in the massive gorilla
arms of a hairy 45 year old pedophile.  The boy was squatting, pressed
against the man, his only clothing was a bright red child-sized thong.  The
red line bisected the milky globes of the boy bottom, and below, pushed
down by the skin-to-skin contact, was a little red pouch.  Though this was
Cutter's fourth viewing, and he knew the film had been recorded months ago,
he couldn't help but imagining that this was a live show just for him.  He
really needed to cum again.

   But then he glanced at Smithington.  The man glared daggers into the
screen at the man who had sexified his little boy.  Cutter saw the verge of
insanity in that look.  Perfect.

   In the video, Buck generously gave the viewers a few moments to admire
the thonged boy ass as the camera zoomed in.  Then he lifted the boy up and
set him on the edge of the bed, standing up himself.  As he did so, his
enormous bulge became obvious in his jeans.  Benny's eyes followed this
bulge the whole time Buck was standing and stayed locked on as it turned to
face him at head height.

   Smithington frowned at his son's interest.

   Buck said something quietly to the boy.  Either the microphones were off
in this film, or it had been edited out.  The boy stared up at Buck blankly
and cocked his head to the side.  Buck repeated himself and gestures to his
bulge.

   Hesitantly and timidly, the boy raised his hands to the waistband of
Buck's pants.  He looked up again as if asking if this were right.

   "No," Smithington's voice interrupted the intense silence.  "No no no,"
he repeated as if instructing his son from the future and thousands of
miles away.

   But, of course, Benny didn't get those instructions.  Instead, Buck
nodded encouragingly.  So Benny, still wary, unbuttoned the man's fly and
clumsily pulled his zipper down.  The opening revealed a dark pubic bush.
Buck was freeballing.  The man nodded again and said, "Pull it out, boy."
The audio was working now.

   Benny, with a look of mild disgust and intense curiosity, reached his
hand into his master's pants, grabbed hold of the large, hard cock, and
pulled.

   With effort, the man's dick sprung free of the constraining pants.  The
camera work was perfect as it caught, in slow motion, the splatter of pre
as it whipped across the eight year old face diagonally from the corner of
his mouth, across his nose, and just under his eye.

   Benny started back in surprise, but Buck was firmly in control.  He
grabbed the slender arms and wrapped the boy's hands around his cock.  His
girth was so big, that the boy's hands just barely encircled it.  The man
guided the boy to start stroking his dick, rolling the skin back and forth
as he smoothly kicked off his boots and removed his jeans.

   Benny looked absolutely confused as to what the point of all this was.
Cutter thought that he should also be confused about what this image would
do to the millions of men who would watch it.  Naked Buck standing directly
in front of little Benny clothed only in a hot red sexy thong.  The man's
erection pointed directly at the boy's face who was masturbating it two
handed, pumping it at his little button nose.

   A long, glistening drip of pre oozed out of the man's urethra.  Because
of the jerky jerking, the dribble swung back and forth until the end made
contact with the smooth chest in front of it.  For about a minute this
continued.  The boy pumped the man's cock with a swinging rope of pre
connecting the two, man-cock to boy.

   Cutter was mesmerized and ached to relieve himself again.  But he heavy,
labored breathing next to him reminded him he wasn't alone.

   Buck then put his hands on the boy's shoulders, giving him permission to
stop.  The boy pulled a couple more times before getting the hint and
removing his hands from the hot flesh rod, turning his gaze from his task
to the large man's face.

   The man then knelt in front of the boy, spreading the kid's legs.  He
lowered his head to the eight year old lap.  And began bobbing his head up
and down.  This was the part of the video that frustrated Cutter the most.
It was such a tease knowing what the man was doing, but not being able to
see it.  Cutter hated soft core.

   While still mysteriously manipulating the boy's crotch with his face,
Buck pushed the boy's legs up and lowered his head further.  Benny's face
was utter bliss as the man orally sexed him.  He grabbed the man's head and
held on as intense new feelings spread through his crotch.

   "You son of a bittch.  What are you doing to my boy?" Smithington said
out loud but to himself.  It almost seemed like he thought he was alone,
Cutter forgotten.

   * * *

   Three Months Ago Benny moaned in pleasure at the man's tongue that was,
once again, buried deep in his anus.  He had forgotten about his promise to
himself to ignore his abuse.  It just felt too good to ignore.  So he
focused his eight year old mind on the feelings in his butt.  The
stretching, the odd jolts of pleasure.

   But, of course it didn't last.  The man looked up at him.  Benny thought
he looked surprisingly sensitive with the boy's hands holding his head.

   "Now it's my turn, baby boy." Buck's words unnerved Benny as the man
tucked the little boy boner back in the red pouch of his weird underwear.
He didn't want to put the the man's wiener in his mouth and he REALLY
didn't want to put his tongue in the man's butt!  He really hoped he didn't
have to do that.  Maybe if he got Buck to pee that white stuff again, he
wouldn't have to do that.  Yes, that was the best plan, the boy decided.

   The boy quickly grabbed the man's cock in his little hands and began
stroking, hoping to get the man off quickly.

   He heard Buck chuckle.  "Well, you sure are eager," the man put his hand
on the top of the boy's head, forcing it to his cock.  "Now open up and let
me in."

   The eight year old knew what was expected, and he knew what he had to
do. But he couldn't do it all at once.  Baby steps, he thought to himself
as he stared at the angry purple head drooling a mess.  Benny stuck out his
tongue and touched the tip.  It was surprisingly mushy, and really didn't
taste that bad.  Pretty salty and a little sweet.  He could do this.  He
couldn't tongue the man ass hole, but he could suck his prick.

   So he opened his mouth as wide as he could.  With the man's hand a
constant pressure on the back of his head, he led the big dick into his
small mouth.  Buck cooed, "Oh yeah.  That's good, baby boy."

   Benny was staring to like that pet name, especially since it was always
associated with praise.

   The cock went deeper, and deeper sliding along the little boy tongue,
lubricating it with that salty sweet goo.  Benny found himself having
trouble breathing and then the tip hit a spot at the back of his mouth and
his throat convulsed.  Buck gripped his head harder, preventing him from
moving.  The boy panicked, sure he was going to suffocate, but the feeling
quickly passed and he was okay.

   Guided by his molester, Benny began to bob on the pedophile's penis.  It
continued to squirt little streams of salty sweet into his mouth, and Benny
was beginning to like it.  Buck was making a lot of strange noises and
before long, he pulled one of Benny's hands off of his cock.  He started to
suck on the boy's fingers.  Benny, concentrating on the cock in his mouth,
didn't even notice as Buck guided his spit coated hand between the man's
legs.  He didn't notice until he felt a tightness around his fingers.

   He backed off the cock aghast, but Buck held his hand firmly inside the
man.  Benny looked up at the hairy face concerned.

   "Do you want more, baby boy?" Buck asked threatening, annoyed by the
interruption, silently implying the answer was 'yes'.

   Benny knew it was now or never.  His fingers in the butt was gross, but
not as gross as the other thing in his mind.

   "I want you to pee that white stuff."

   * * *

   Now "You want me to p-" Buck said on screen, looking baffled.  Then he
smiled as the little boy blushed.  "Oh.  Okay.  If you insist.  Here." He
waggled his cock at the boy.  Cutter's erection pushed painfully against
his pants as the boy in the video eagerly slipped the man's cock between
his soft lips.  Buck grabbed the boy's head to steady it, then began to
forcefully thrust his cock into the eight year old mouth.  In and out.  In
and out.

   Cutter looked at his guest.  Smithington's left hand was clenched in a
fist over his heart and his right was gripping the chair arm.

   On the computer, Buck's pace quickened as the boy struggled to breath.
Slurps and gags filled the speakers on Cutter's laptop as the man's hairy
balls slapped the boy's chin.  All too soon, the man stopped and pulled his
cock almost entirely out of the little mouth, just leaving the tip in.  He
sighed loudly and his cock started to jump, pumping his seed directly onto
the boy's tongue.  He wanted the kid to taste it.

   "Swallow," The man ordered.  The boy, looking ill, took a massive
swallow as the man's load slithered down this abused throat.

   "I'm going to kill you, fucker," Smithington said coldly to the screen,
"You're a dead man."

   Cutter smirked to himself as Buck once again got on his knees in front
of the youngest Smithington and blew him.  It wasn't long before the boy
shuddered in his first orgasm, his legs clenching around the man's head.

   The man stood up, helped his baby boy up, too, and together they walked
out of the room, on fat hairy man ass butting against a little pale boy ass
bisected by a hot red string.  The camera followed them out the door into a
lobby-like room with a panoramic view of the New York City skyline then
faded to black.

   ***

   "What the hell was that, Cutter?" Smithington was pissed.

   -
   Thanks for reading.  I can be contacted at jack.b.pink@yandex.com.