How to Create a Fuckboy

For the first two weeks after his surgery, Fuckboy spent the afternoons out by the pool getting a good head start on his curriculum, while trying to ignore the men's loud shouts and Little Cunt's happy squeals coming from inside the house. After the clients finished fucking the five-year old, most of them came out to the pool to check on his older brother. He proudly stood and showed off his little penis laying limply in front of his empty bag. If they asked, he turned around, spread his legs apart and bent over so they could see the stitches and admire my handiwork. He warned them not to touch. "Doctor's orders!" That's what Fuckboy really missed, the clients' touch.

Evenings seemed to drag for him. After Little Cunt fell asleep, the house was way too quiet. When he heard the bitch entertaining johns downstairs, it just reminded him all the more what he was missing. I kept assuring him over and over how much I loved him for what he'd given me.

Little Cunt seemed obsessed with his balls. One morning I was looking in the pantry for a can of coffee and noticed a bag of dry garbanzo beans. I smirked at the clever idea that flashed into my evil brain. I took two of the smallest beans in the bag and secreted them by the KY on my bedside table. A few hours later, Little Cunt and I were having a pleasant romp before his first client was due to arrive. We kissed and caressed, then began 69ing, I loved taking his entire equipment into my mouth and smothering it in saliva. He loved it to. I knew he was distracted and since my cock was in his mouth, all he could see anyway were my mammoth gonads draped over his face! So I discretely reached over and hid the two beans in my palm. Then I reluctantly let his sweet little weewee out of my mouth and sucked away on his little nuts. Suddenly, I gave them a little nip. "There, Little Cunt, I bit your nuts off. Now you're a eunuch just like your brother."

He sputtered and released my dick. "What??"

Quickly, I spun around and straddled him, my ass resting gently on his belly. "Yep," I said smiling at his worried face. "See, here they are." I held up my hands, each one displaying a bean "testicle" between the thumb and forefinger. Little Cunt's mouth dropped. He wiggled his hands but of course could not get at his scrotum to check because his big uncle was blocking the way.

I opened my mouth and put the first bean on my tongue. I showed it to him, then closed my mouth, closed my eyes, bit down, and swallowed. A dried bean sure doesn't have much flavor, but I licked my lips and gave a satisfied mmmmm. I repeated it with the second "nut."

Little Cunt's eyes were starting to get wet and I knew I'd gone far enough. I got off him and he quickly checked out his equipment. "Fuck! You tricked me, Sir!" He started pounding my chest.

"Ha!!" I laughed. "You should have seen your face, Little Cunt!!" Then I picked him up and gave him a huge avuncular hug.

"I knew all along they wasn't my nuts," he pleaded.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Little Cunt." It was many weeks before he let me suck him again.

Doc came by on September 12 for his usual Saturday appointment with Little Cunt and while he was here he watched as I snipped off the stitches. Fuckboy yelled hooray. For the last couple days, they'd been itching like hell. Doc was pleased how well the incision had healed. "Can I fuck again, Doc?"

"Next Thursday, Son. Won't be long. Won't be long. Won't be long." But it seemed way too long for Fuckboy. He couldn't wait to have cocks back in his bottom. Eventually Fuckboy got his wish. The clients were thrilled as well to have two tight young asses to choose from again.

Home School was in full session with Fuckboy now in fifth grade and Little Cunt in First. I remembered reading about people who'd gone to a one-room schoolhouse and how the younger pupils often progressed rapidly as they picked up on lessons intended for their older classmates. That was the case in the Thorndike school: Little Cunt quickly learned to read and write and do addition and subtraction. He got his own word for the day, but also always wanted to learn Fuckboy's word as well. He learned about nature and his brother shared skills learned in Cub Scouts. He could recite the Pledge of Allegiance with most of the words correct. The bitch got him started playing his scales. He had a sweet singing voice; often in the evening, as I lay in bed with him, my cum still wet on his lips, he'd serenade me with the little songs he was learning. Whenever El Greco was in town, he'd encourage Little Cunt's drawing and clay sculpture. And Marks took both boys together for gym class, basketball, tennis, running, climbing ropes, wrestling. (Fuckboy quickly discovered that his nutlessness gave him an advantage in wrestling). Whatever the activity, Marks always ended drenched in perspiration with both boys sucking his dick.

We signed up for swim lessons at the Y and self-defense at the Tai Kwon Do in town. We took frequent trips to the zoo and aquarium, where they tried to catch the animals copulating; to the art museum where they liked the naked sculptures; and to the children's theater, especially when El Greco was involved.

On Monday, October 12, the public schools were closed, and there were big parades in all the major cities. Most of the country was celebrating Columbus Day, when suddenly everyone and his dog decides to be Italian. But in the Thorndike home we had something much more exciting to celebrate: Little Cunt's sixth birthday.

Actually, we'd already celebrated the previous Friday. In the afternoon, we had a party at the Y for all the lads in their swim class. Shit, my cock had a real hard time (literally) trying to stay put with all those little wet skimpily clad young bottoms playing around. On Friday night, while Fuckboy was at Cub Scouts, Little Cunt was the guest of honor at a special party for his seven favorite clients. They danced with him, swam with him, wrestled with him, and took turns fucking him way past his bedtime.

Then on Monday, we closed home school and had our own party with presents. Little Cunt said he liked mine best of all: a life-size dildo I had cast of my own cock. He lubed it up and had great fun pushing it in his darling little ass. I was pleased how far he took it.

We didn't see much of the bitch throughout our festivities. A mixed blessing. Now that she was whoring, she'd been neglecting her household chores. Our meals were just thrown together, the dishes frequently piled up, layers of dust appeared on the furniture, and as for the two cars, well they sure lost their previous shine. Often a man would get in bed with one of the boys and the unchanged sheets would still have wet cum from a previous client. Worse than the house, she was neglecting the boys. Fuckboy had to go to a scout meeting with a wrinkled uniform; he was fuckin embarrassed. She overslept through a couple of Little Cunt's music lessons. And when Harrington came by one week to "rape" her son, she put up no resistance, just rubbed her pussy impatiently waiting for him to finish fucking the boy so she could have her turn. Her addiction to sex was wiping out her maternal instincts.

Fuckboy was afraid she'd lose some of our best customers. He tried to whip his mother into shape, but nothing seemed to get through to her. All she cared about now was satisfying her hungry cunt. The only times she attended to the house were those few days each month when her period forced her to cancel her appointments. Then she'd race around like a madwoman, vacuuming, washing, cooking, trying desperately to make the hours pass quicker so she could get back to spreading her legs for her johns.

It was a rainy day in late October. The sun was already heading for the western horizon, when I was coming home from lunch with my lawyer, O'Malley, at a little diner in town. I was feeling on top of the world. In a little under four months, Little Fuck would be with me one whole year and I could legally adopt him. The lawyer assured me all the papers were in order and he saw no potential wrenches to jam up the process. Jerome McTavish would then become Jerome McTavish Thorndike. I only wished there were some way to make Tommy legally mine as well. He shared my last name and I now considered him more son than nephew, but in the eyes of the law I had no parental claim on him.

When I opened my front door, two of our clients were waiting in the living room. "Hi. Uh, what's the matter? Why aren't you with the boys?"

"They're not here?"

Next: Miscarriage