How to Create a Fuckboy

On the slave's last day of school, when I got home from work, he came running to me with his report card in his hands. "Look, Sir, all A's!"

"Didn't I tell you, slave? Mr. Harrison, I mean Little Petey, was reasonable enough once he understood the whole picture."

"Yeh, thanks for talking to him, Sir."

I looked over at Vera. "I think your mother wants you to thank me proper." I slid off my pants and boxers and sat bare assed on the couch. The slave got on the couch too, his legs tucked under and his chest on his knees, and started sucking my happy cock. I spit on my painty hand and began fingering his anus. I wanted Vera to know the kid's mouth was not the only hole he let me go in. She watched in horror as I changed from one finger to another. She could see her son was used to being penetrated.

I was hard but was in no particular hurry to end this intimate moment. I started talking. "We're going to have a lot of fun this summer, slave. We'll go to the park and to the beach and to the fair." He was making pleasant sighs around my cock, obviously pleased with the prospects I was listing. "Each day Vera will make us a nice lunch to take with us. Won't you, Vera?" She shrugged, but of course, I knew she'd do it. She'd probably be glad to get the two of us outside for a change, out where the world could keep an eye on her abusive brother.

The next Tuesday, I told slave boy we could go to the park. I got him dressed in a tight pair of shorts he'd almost outgrown, a tee, and open sandals. As we drove he said this ain't the way. I said I had to make a stop first. I parked in front of the Boot and brought the boy inside. I knew Tuesday around three they would have the right mix of customers for my purpose. The barkeeper looked up and hollered, "Hey, Get that kid out of here! You want me to lose my license?"

"Keep your shirt on, Harry. We're only staying a minute." I lifted slave boy up and sat him on the bar. "I just wanted Tommy here to say hello to all my friends."

"Hello."

The guys' reaction was predictable. "What a cutie you are." "Look at those dark eyes." "The kid's a knockout, that's for sure."

"Harry, where's your fuckin manners? Give the kid a coke." Harry took a glass, filled it from the hose and stuck a straw in it.

"Thank you, Sir." The kid said to Harry. As he started sucking on the straw, I heard quiet mumblings about him being a good sucker. I knew my plan was working.

"Yeah, well, we're on our way to the park over on Wilson Street. Tommy likes to go on the swings. He's a real swinger, ha ha. He'll probably be on them swings all afternoon. You know, the ones over near the comfort station." I figured I'd said enough and lifted him back down to the floor.

Dominick dropped his napkin. "Oops, I guess I'm all butterfingers today. Tommy, could you be a sweetheart and pick that up for me?" The lad bent over and every pair of eyes in the Boot was glued to his eight-year old ass with the shorts nearly ready to split open.

We were only at the swings about a half hour when the first men began to arrive. We set up business in the comfort station. I planted slave boy in the handicapped stall and stood by the sinks to collect the fees. Dominick was first in line. I gave him fifteen minutes and warned him he'd pay double if he went even a second over. There were others waiting. But I gave everyone my phone number if they wanted to have more time with the boy some other day.

Every night that week, the slave had bookings. (Of course, I saved a slot on Friday night for Mike.) Word spread among the underground pedo network. The phone was ringing at all hours. I saw this was going to be a moneymaking venture. And with zero expenses, the profits were 100%. The boy learned to take an enema and then a bath each evening so he'd be clean inside and out for his dates.

I picked up the phone on the Fourth of July expecting it to be another customer, when I heard the Boss's voice, "Hey, I've been trying to reach you for two days. Your phone is always busy. Listen, you'll be happy to know, I've got a big job. An old apartment house downtown. They gutted the whole thing, put in all new walls, appliances, made it real upscale. Fortythree apartments in all, every one of them needing painting. Looks like you'll have steady work all summer at least. I need you to start next Monday morning at 8."

I let him finish his pitch. Then I told him to take the job and shove it up his ass. "I have a new career now." Now this was a real Independence Day. I told the boy he would have the evening off, so we could go see the fireworks. We won't have to be back until midnight when a guy named Morris had an appointment.

I shared my small collection of kiddie porn with slave boy. I wanted him to see how perfectly normal it is for men to use young boys for sexual gratification. After all, he wasn't the only lad in the world doing this; just the best!

For the next couple weeks, Vera watched as stranger after stranger went into her old bedroom with her precious little boy. She began working extra hours at Hooters just to avoid the torture. One guy, Philip, offered to pay really big bucks to take the lad home with him overnight. Shit, I could go one night without my little bedmate if it was good for the business. I told him, "You can use him any fuckin way you want. Just return him in one piece. Oh, and no photographs." I had to protect my investment.

On Monday, July 16, the forecast was for temps the mid 90s. So after breakfast, I told the slave boy I was taking him to the ocean. He ran and got his bathing suit. The fuckin big loose trunk style. I threw them in the garbage and told him we'd stop at the store on the way to the beach. He put on a pair of his old shorts. At WalMart I found him a proper snug speedo. He was surprised when I also bought him a sand shovel and pail. I hated to take money out of the business, but I told myself it was an investment.

At the beach I had him change into his new suit right on the sand. Anyone who was interested could watch him trying to wiggle his pretty little ass into that tight new speedo. I put my blanket down on the sand and told him to take his pail and shovel and go play by the water's edge. He looked like he was all alone. Eventually, I saw a man go over, get down on his haunches and start talking to the boy. I waited. They both stood up and hand in hand the man led him toward the cabana. I intercepted them, explained I was the boy's Uncle, but if they wanted to have some fun they could, for a price. Throughout the day, we repeated the scenario about a dozen times.

All week we played the johns at the beach (strictly oral), then came home in time to eat supper and have a fuck before the first scheduled clients arrived. I made sure I got my fuck in while the lad's hole was still good and tight.

On Friday, Vera worked the lunch shift. It was too cool for the beach, so I figured I'd take the slave to the park for the afternoon, and we would pick up some quickies. But Mike called that he couldn't wait until evening. He begged me to let him come right over. Hell, he's an old friend. More important, he's a good customer, so I gave in. While he was in the bedroom fucking the kid like crazy, I sat in the living room watching a kiddie porn flick.

A few hours later, I was still there when Vera came home from work, no doubt expecting the apartment to be empty because someone was with her. She had probably invited him in but when they opened the door and saw me, he said he had to get home anyway. They kissed.

"Who the fuck was that?"

"Just a customer from the restaurant."

"Are you fucking him?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, Brother."

"Hell it isn't. If you end up with another bastard kid, who's going to take care of him?"

"Well, sure as Hell, not you, you pimp!"

"I forbid you to have sex, Vera. From now on, no fucking for you."

"What?" She couldn't believe I'd ask such a thing.

I picked up the phone and dialed. "Hello? I want to speak to Mr. Hastings." Vera heard the name of Hooters' manager and tried to grab the phone. "Yes, Mr. Hastings? My sister, Vera, is very sorry but she has to quit her job. Her son needs her at home. Yes. You're being very understanding. Thank you, Mr. Hastings." I put the phone down. "You don't need that fuckin job. I make enough for all of us now. And I need you around the house. The slave is too busy with my customers to do his chores."

Just then, a burly unshaven man in his fifties came out of my bedroom, tucking his dirty shirt into his pants. He shook my hand. "I'll be back next week. Will you save this slot for me?"

"Sure for an extra 20 bucks your time is guaranteed. But of course if you fail to show, I still have to charge you."

"Don't worry, I'll show. Good evening, Ma'am." He put out his hand but Vera didn't touch him.

It was a smart decision making Vera quit her job. Of course, it's true she would have plenty to do keeping up the house and cooking and all. And since all the traffic in and out of our apartment was beginning to get some unwanted attention, maybe the neighbors would conclude she was a whore rather than speculate about other reasons. But the main benefit of this arrangement is that now she would be as much dependent on the business as I was. She would be implicated in the selling of her son. Don't you love it when a plan comes together?

Next: Tommy Discovers Weed