by Nickolai

“UR HAWT!!!”

I replied: “Thanx! Can I C U?”

Luckily I had swallowed my beer or I might have sprayed it over the monitor when I opened the return picture: a side view of a completely naked torso, featuring a smooth, round ass and a fully erect penis that sprang up to what looked like a decent 6 inches.

When I regained my composure, I typed: “That’s a nice one.”

“IT LOOKS EVEN BETTER IN PERSON! WANNA HOOKUP?”

“U know I’m only 13”

“U A VIRGIN?”

“Ya”

“THATS HAWT! PLZ LETS MEET I NEED IT BAD”

I paused to light a Marlboro, thinking how far am I gonna take this.

Finally I tapped out: “OK. When?”

“ANYTIME ANYPLACE U NAME IT”

From an earlier chat I knew the shameless pig lived in Centerville, just seven miles away. I told him my parents would be gone for the weekend and gave him the directions to get out here.

“C U SATURDAY!”

Over the next few days, every time I looked at the obscene photo he forwarded, while masturbating between preparations, my resolve grew stronger. What kind of twisted, depraved mind did it take to send this kind of pornography to a mere child? The picture I emailed him was that of a modest young girl with a sweet, pretty face. She was hardly even showing any cleavage. I nearly broke out in a sweat thinking about how the disgusting pervert was eagerly stroking his meat while he plotted to despoil her innocence.

This “Jesse” claimed to be only 16, but a sicko like that deserved everything that was coming to him. That was for sure. As I understand it, pedophiles like him can never be cured. I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I let this predator run around unchecked. Someone had to nip it in the bud now before who knows how many hundreds became his victims.

Too bad the child molester’s balls weren’t visible from the angle of his photo. I could only imagine their tender plumpness. Little girls for miles around were going to be a lot safer when I got through with them.

By Saturday I was well-fortified to face the evil one head on. I sat at the computer stirring my second bloody mary when an instant message popped up.

“HAY SWEET THANG R WE AWN?”

“The coast is clear. Can’t wait to C U!” I wrote.

Some 45 minutes later I heard him rapping on the trailer door. Peering through the blinds, I was greeted with a sight that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Since he only sent a headless picture of his naked self, I had steeled myself for the possibility that he might look kind of dopey and jug-eared, or big-nosed and squinty-eyed, or pizza-faced with acne. In that case I was prepared let him off easy and send him packing with a stern warning. To my way of thinking, an ugly would-be predator was not worth the trouble. He was more to be laughed at, or pitied, than feared.

But no. His face was just as smooth and well-proportioned as the rest of him. In fact, his baby blue eyes and rosy cheeks gave him the deceptively innocent look of “Teen Beat” poster boys you might see hanging in the bedrooms of dreamy pre-teen girls.

“The devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape...” The half-remembered quote from somewhere popped into my head as the alarm bells clanged. My sense of mission grew urgent. With his wholesome good looks the sex-crazed demon boy could no doubt have his way with any little schoolgirl he wanted.

When I opened the door, his dark eyebrows shot upwards. A 47-year-old man wasn’t exactly what he expected.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead under a white baseball cap with a distinctive, purple and black logo printed on it, which was fringed by a mane of medium-length, straight, dark-blondish hair.

He spoke hesitantly, in a low, soft voice. “Ah...uh...howdy, sir. Maybe I’m not at the right place. Does Sherri live here?”

I eyed him up and down slowly. He stood about 5 foot 7, and weighed maybe around 130-140 pounds. He wore baggy blue jeans and a white muscle t-shirt that showed off his well-developed upper body, narrow waist, and tanned, strong arms. He had quite an athletic build for a 16-year-old. He could well be a wrestler. I could easily picture him in a skin-tight wrestling singlet, flaunting his package in front of innocent children.

I don’t think he noticed my hard-on, so it must have been my stare that was making him jumpy. The boy looked about ready to hop back on his bike and pedal off.

I frowned. “Sherrilyn? She said she was going out to feed the rabbits.”

“Uh, OK, cool, I’ll go look for her.”

He quickly turned and bounded down the steps.

“Hang on there, son, I’ll show you the way,” I said. “It’s pretty tangled up out to the barn.”

The horny teen jostled impatiently from one leg to the other while I descended the stairs. I led him along the winding path around the lilac bushes and tall weeds, past the foundation of the burnt out old house and the rusting farm machinery.

I turned to him and said, “The missus and me was just leaving,” His face brightened for a moment, until I added: “Sherrilyn must have forgot to mention she was having a boy over while we were gone.”

He noticed the edge in my voice. “I, uh, I was just out for a ride and I thought I’d stop by and say howdy.” He flashed a row of perfect white teeth with his nervous grin.

I struggled to stay calm myself, while judging his strength and quickness. It would be a challenge, but I figured I had a good 50 pounds on him, and the element of surprise. I could practically hear my heart pounding.

“Go to school with Sherri, do ya?”

“Uh, no, uh, well—my cousin does. Y’all are in the Reedsboro district and I go to school in Centerville. But my cousin Rosie, she goes to Reedsboro, so that’s how I met Sherri. Through my cousin, Rosie. They’re like, real good friends. So, since I was out riding anyways, I thought I’d just stop by to say ‘hey’ and head out, ‘cause my grandma needs me back home and stuff. She’s like, pretty old and she doesn’t get around so good no more, so I help out around the house a lot—especially on Saturdays. So I can’t stay too long or nothing.”

“Ah-huh,” I said.

We had reached the barn. I swung open the heavy wooden door and ushered the boy into the entryway.

I closed the door behind us and called out, “Sherrilyn, honey, you got a visitor.”

The boy stood blinking slack-jawed in the dimly lit corridor. Instantly I slammed him up against the fieldstone wall and grabbed him by the throat.

“You lying little cocksucker,” I snarled.

The wide-eyed teen choked and struggled. He pulled at my wrists to get my hands off his neck. I kneed him in the groin as hard as I could. His legs buckled. I grabbed him around the waist, dragged him to the straw bales I had laid out earlier, and flung him down. Pinning him with a hand on his nape and a knee in his back, I grabbed a length of the baler twine I’d set nearby.

He gasped, “Arrghhh, get off me!”

I quickly pulled his arms behind him and tied his wrists together.

“Sherri, help!” he croaked. “It’s Jesse! Your dad’s fuckin’ crazy!”

I grabbed another length of twine.

“You can save your breath,” I said. “Sherri ain’t here.”

I commenced tying his legs together.

“You thought I was gonna leave her alone with you did ya? So you could stuff your filthy prick in my little girl’s virgin pussy?”

“No! No! Nothing like that! I hardly even know her!”

I knotted the twine around his ankles, and then sat astride his muscular thighs while he tried to twist and turn. I squeezed and massaged his butt cheeks through his jeans with both hands. They were tight and round.

“What are you doing? Get off me!”

“You got a sickness inside you, boy, and you got it real bad. Why else would you come sniffing around my baby girl?”

“I ain’t done nothing to her. Let me go!”

“So you can sneak around behind my back again? I don’t think so. I can’t blame Sherri, she’s an innocent child. She don’t know about twisted fucks like you.”

I pushed my hand against the boy’s ass crack and rubbed it through his jeans . “It’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine. Then we’ll see about fixing you for good.”

“What are you saying? Get off me!”

He really started to kick up a fuss now. I pulled him up by the back of his pants and gripped one arm around his skinny waist to hold him steady while I opened his belt. With all his squirming it took a lot of effort, but finally I got the top button of his jeans unfastened and pulled down the zipper. Then I reached in and got a handle on his babymakers through his shorts. They were big ones. I squeezed them hard enough to make him holler.

“Aaargh! Let go! Stop!”

“Settle down!” I loosened my hold on his testicles for a moment, and when he stopped yelling I said, “I could do this all day long, but if you cooperate like a good little bitch, it’ll go a lot easier for ya.”

I increased the pressure on his balls.

“Understand?”

He nodded reluctantly.

“What?” I squeezed harder. “Can’t hear you.”

“Yes! Yes!”

“OK, then.”

I pulled my hand out of his crotch and pushed his hips down on the bales.

He whimpered while I peeled the jeans and boxers off that sweet ass.

“Don’t hurt me! Please!” he begged. “I won’t see Sherri again, ever! I swear I’ll leave her alone—just let me go!”

The twin mounds of his teen boy ass were dazzling—so tight, so round, and so smooth to the touch. They were begging for abuse.

“It’s a little late for that,” I said gruffly. You’re gonna get a lesson you won’t forget!”

I held up my hand to spank him and then had a better idea. The boy’s wide belt was soft brown leather. I stripped it out of his jeans and doubled it up. I squeezed his left cheek and gave it a tentative slap. Then I gave it a good whack. The boy let out a satisfying yelp. I smacked him again and again, leaving a crisscrossed pattern of red stripes against the whiteness.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he howled.

I was about to start on the right cheek when I heard a disturbing noise. It sounded like the slam of a car door. With a boot planted on the boy’s back, I stood up to investigate. The window above us, set in the old stone wall, was too dusty and cobwebbed to see through. I looked around for something to wipe it with. The boy’s white baseball cap lay in the straw. I picked it up and, stretching over the wide casement, used the cap to clear off a space on the windowpane.

Now I could just make out through the tall weeds and brush what looked to be my neighbor Fred Jameson’s red Ford pickup parked up by the trailer. Fred was walking towards the door.

The boy moaned.

“Please mister, just let me go.”

I ground my boot heel into his back.

“Shut up,” I said. “My good buddy’s here. He knows what to do with sick punks like you.”

I gave the sobbing pervert a kick in the ribs and casually sauntered out while he lay there and groaned.

My mind raced as I strolled back to the trailer. I prayed that the boy would keep quiet, or I was gonna have to do some fast talking.

“Hey Fred, what can I do for ya?”

“Ah, there you are Carl. Working out in the barn, were ya?”

“Yeah, well you know, there’s always something to do, trying to get this place back into shape.”

“I reckon.”

Like all the neighbors, Fred knew damned well I’d been letting the place go to hell. After Ma died in the fire last year, I left my high stress job in the city and moved “back home” to retire. The locals cut me a lot of slack, because of the tragedy. They’d call and give me odd jobs, like if they needed an extra hand with milking or haying and such. Between that, my savings, rental income from the farm acreage, and the insurance money Ma left, I had enough to keep me comfortable, and I had spare time aplenty for my hobbies.

Fred said, “I hope you ain’t too busy, ‘cause my cows have been gettin’ out and I need to put up some new fence. I could sure use your help.”

Fred had three grown sons, but like me, they all moved off the farm the first chance they got. None of them went to college, though, like I did. Two of them got married and lived somewhere around the area and I heard the other one moved out of state. Fred’s two teenaged daughters lived at home along with a young son who was still in elementary school.

While I was thinking of an excuse to put Fred off, I spied my captive’s red bike leaned up against the trailer. Good thing there was so much other junk and crap lying around that he didn’t seem to notice it.

I walked him back to his pick-up and said: “Gee, Fred, I’d be happy to help you out, but I’m in the middle of a project right now and I’d like to finish it off. I can swing by tomorrow, no problem.”

“Well, I really need to get started today. Can I borrow your posthole digger, anyways?”

“Ah, sure thing,” I said. “Why don’t you pull the truck up to the shed?”

We got into the cab, and lurched along the rutted, overgrown trail that led back to the farm buildings.

“Say Carl,” Fred asked, “did you get yourself some livestock? I thought I heard a hog squealing back here.”

I forced a laugh. “I know I ain’t much of a singer, but I ain’t never been compared to no hog before!”

“Oh, that was you! Sorry, no offense.”

“None taken.”

I had a bigger worry on my mind. We got out of the truck next to the shed, and I poked around inside stalling for time. I knew the digger wasn’t there.

Fred was getting impatient.

“You know, after I borrowed it one time last year, I’m pretty sure we put the digger in the barn, since there wasn’t much space in the shed. Least that’s what I remember.”

“Now that you mention it, I think you’re right. I know just where it is. Why don’t you wait here and I’ll drag it out for you.”

Fred said, “Carl, you’re a big strong guy, but there’s no sense in you getting a hernia over it.”

Damn!

Fred was hard on my heels, and as we reached the barn door I knew I was busted. A tied up, bare-assed teenager was gonna be hard to explain. I took a breath and walked in ahead of Fred. I was about to launch into a tirade about how I found the little thief lurking around trying to steal my shit and I was just fixing to call the sheriff—when I saw...the boy was gone! I don’t know how he got loose, but the only trace of him was his belt lying in the loose straw next to the bales. I casually kicked more straw over it while Fred followed me around the corner to the digger.

Fred remarked on the massive wooden workbench I had built over the past few days that stood in the barn’s central alleyway.

“So this is your project, huh? Looks like you’re taking up wood working.”

“Well, I got all this space I’m not using for nothing else, and a man needs a hobby. You know what they say—idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

It wasn’t hard for the two of us to haul the digger out to Fred’s truck, since the machine consists of not much more than an auger, gear box, and a power take off shaft. After we got it loaded, Fred seemed to hesitate before getting into the truck.

“Was there something else?” I asked.

“No, I guess that’ll do it.”

“See you tomorrow then,’ I said. I waved goodbye as Fred finally took off.

I was eager to return to my “project.”

I washed my hands at the faucet in the old milkhouse, splashed some water on my face, and walked into the barn.

“Daddy’s back!” I announced. “Now where’s my little buddy? Come out, come out wherever you are...”

A slightly cleared path of concrete through the straw led to a nearby stall where I had leaned up a couple of big sheets of plywood. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out where the boy had crawled to.

I strolled over, reached down behind the plywood shelter, grabbed the boy by his ankles, and dragged his ass out of his hiding place. Although his hands were still tied behind him, the flexible lad had managed to get his jeans pulled up somehow.

“Alone at last,” I said. “Now where were we?”

“Please don’t hurt me no more, mister,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

The kid threw me off balance. I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Damn right you will.”

I sat down on the straw next to him and brushed the straw and cobwebs out of his dirty blond hair. Damn he was hot. I leaned in and kissed him. He opened his mouth, and the little whore gave me some tongue. What the fuck!

I pulled away and stared into those blue eyes.

“So it was you all along,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“There was never no Sherri. I knew it!”

“Sure you did,” I said.

“You didn’t sound like no girl I ever met. They’re never that easy.”

“Yeah, right. And you rode your bike all the way out here anyway?”

“I was lonely and horny. Like you, I reckon,” he said quietly. “And from what you wrote it seemed like you’d be nice.”

This kid was really fucking with my head.

“We’ll see about that.”

His jeans were open and I stuck my hand in and rubbed his crotch. He was getting a big hard on.

“Looks like somebody’s hankerin’ for attention.”

I gripped my hands around his jeans and shorts and pulled downward. The boy lifted his ass up to help me get them around his ankles. When I saw what was between his legs, my jaw dropped. Not only was he fully erect, but his circumcised cock was a hell of a lot bigger than I expected from his photo. It had to be well over 8 inches, and it was thick.

“You don’t look like your picture,” I said.

“Well, you don’t look like your picture, neither.”

He had me there.

“Sometimes when they see it, girls act like it’s too big, so I figured if I send a picture of a more normal-like cock, they won’t get scared off.”

“Maybe you should quit trying to rape little girls then.”

“I never raped no little girls! Never, nohow! Whoever told you that is a liar!”

I gripped my hand around the base of his monster dick and couldn’t touch my fingers together. In truth, it was hard to see how he could get it into a little girl, even if he wanted to. I was becoming less interested in his history with girls, anyway. “Whatever,” I said. I stroked my hand up the length of him and squeezed a drop of precum out of the tip. “Damn, this is one fine piece of meat you got here, boy.”

“You really like it? I always wished I had a smaller one. You don’t think it’s too big?”

“Hell, no. It’s just fine the way it is.”

I ran my other hand down his left leg, which was disfigured by a ragged, six inch long scar above the knee. “What happened here? Did you fall off your bike?”

“I was in a car accident when I was four. My ma and pa was killed, but I was strapped into a car seat in the back and just got a broken leg out of it. Anyways, that’s why I live with my grandma.”

I was beginning to get the picture: an elderly woman who couldn’t begin to control her horny teenaged grandson, who was left to run wild in the streets, and into my clutches. Thank you, grandma!

I was fondling the young hunk with both hands now, and he was encouraging me with soft moans. “So tell me, Jesse. Have you ever had sex with a grown man?”

I could see it was a sensitive subject for him. He turned away and said, “Kind of.” Then he looked me in the eyes and said. “I never told nobody about this before, but when I was 10 years old one of my uncles stayed with grandma and me over the summer. He slept in the same room as me, and he made me do things...”

“What kind of things?”

Now that he had started, it came out of him in a flood.

“At first it was fun stuff. He showed me how to jack off, and even though I was too young to squirt or anything it felt real good. But then he would make me suck his dick, and he would never do me back neither. He said I was pretty as a girl, and I had a cock sucking mouth. But I really started to hate it when he would come home drunk on weekends, and he would—”

“Did he rape you?”

“Well, he was always gentle about it. He never rammed it in me or nothing. But yeah, he fucked me.”

“And you never told nobody?”

“That was the worst thing about it. He said if I ever told anybody about what we did, he would cut my balls off. That made me feel real scared.”

I was holding his balls in my hand while he was talking. They were so nice and his sack was smooth and loose. “That would have been a real shame, if he did that,” I said.

“Yeah, he was a real jerk about it. And he could only get at me because I was little. He wasn’t big and strong like you.”

Now I was really feeling mixed emotions about this kid. I asked, a little anxiously, “Does it bother you that I’m doing this?”

“Nah, it feels real good. I feel safe with you. You’re not like that asshole.”

I was relieved. I wanted to make him feel even better. “I’ll bet you’ve never had a decent blowjob.”

“Not really, no. Girls might lick on it a little, but they always say it’s too big.”

I took a deep breath, leaned down and engulfed him with my mouth. Slowly, inch by inch, I took his python down my throat until my nose was buried in his pubes. Then I gradually came back up, flicking my tongue the whole way.

I looked up and smiled. “How was that?”

“Amazing!” he said. I didn’t think anybody could do that!”

“I could do this all day long,” I said. I kissed him on the mouth, and then I nibbled his earlobes and pulled up his white muscle shirt to work on his pert nipples.

“I don’t even know your name,” he said.

“It’s Carl,” I murmured between mouthfuls. “But you can call me daddy.”

“Daddy. I like that. I don’t remember my real daddy.”

I slathered my tongue around his smooth pecs and rippled abs and eventually worked down to his balls, sucking each of them. Then I licked my way up his shaft, and settled in to give him some serious head, playing with his big balls and tweaking his nipples the whole while. “Oh Carl...oh daddy,” he moaned.

I was fingering his ass when he exploded into my mouth with a cataclysm of ejaculations.

His flat stomach heaved up and down. It took him several moments to catch his breath enough to gasp, “Oh. My. Gawd!”

I lay down next to him in the straw and gave him a taste of his own delicious extract with our post-orgasmic kiss. “Did you like that?”

“Man,” he sighed. “I didn’t know what I was missing out on.”

We lay together silently for a few minutes. He had his eyes closed with a smile on his lips while I rubbed my hand over his abs and circled his belly button with my forefinger.

“Oh, my sweet Jesse,” I said. His thick eyelashes fluttered open. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

He frowned. “Right now? I mean, my grandma’s gonna be wondering where I’m at pretty soon. Can’t I come back tomorrow?”

“Please?” I begged. I’m so horny for you, it won’t take very long. Just one quick fuck is all I ask, then you can go. Please, baby?”

I held my breath as he pondered my proposal. Finally, he said, “Well, I guess I owe you one, after what you done for me. You’ll be gentle, right? You got lube and stuff?”

“Yeah, it’s over by the bench. I’ll get it, but first let’s make you more comfortable.”

Jesse had been lying there the whole while with his arms tied behind his back and his ankles bound together. I pulled out a pocketknife and cut the twine around his wrists. Then I lifted him by his armpits so that he sat up against the wooden crossbars of the stall. I lifted up his shirt and pulled it over his head.

“Might as well get this out of the way.”

I started to retie his left wrist to a crossbar.

“You don’t have to do that,” he objected. “I said I’d let you fuck me.”

“Oh, I trust you,” I lied. “It’s just my little kink.” I was so hot for his teen ass I wasn’t taking any chances.

After I had his arms secured I cut the twine binding his ankles. Then I removed his white Nike cross-trainers, his socks, and his jeans and underwear, so he was completely naked at last. I practically came in my shorts just looking at his lean, smooth, tied-up body. It was all I could do to keep from skipping like a schoolgirl as I scurried over to my new work bench, where I had strategically placed the lube and condoms. I slipped two of them into my pocket and scrambled back to my waiting sweetheart.

Standing in front of Jesse, I opened my jeans and pulled out my throbbing dick. He looked up at me.

“Come on baby, show daddy how you suck cock.”

He sighed. “I ain’t done this for a long time, so take it slow.”

He stuck out his tongue to give the leaking head a delicate swipe. I guess it didn’t taste too bad, because he opened wide to let me in. His uncle was right; the boy had cocksucking lips. It was like being sucked by an angel. He was going at it so enthusiastically I had to pull him off me. “Whoa, that’s enough there, partner. Let’s save some for the main event.”

I knelt down in the straw between his legs. I lifted them up, wiped off the straw that was sticking to his smooth round ass, and laid his jeans and shirt under him. I had his legs up in the air, and was about to start licking his rosebud, when I heard a sharp whisper.

“Carl!”

I looked up. “Yes, sweetie.”

Jesse jutted his jaw forward. “There’s somebody out there!”

I looked behind me, but didn’t see anything. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Something was moving by the window.”

“Son of a bitch!”

Reluctantly, I stood up, pulled up my pants, and pulled myself together for whatever was outside.

I walked out the door, turned the corner and saw none other than my nosy neighbor Fred lurking alongside the barn wall.

“Hello, Fred. I didn’t hear your truck this time.”

“It’s parked down the road a piece, below the hill.”

“Did you forget something?”

“No, can’t say that I did.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard the hollering earlier, and seen the bike, and then the belt laying in the straw, and a feller gets curious, is all. So I looked through the window, and—”

“Now, Fred, I don’t what you think you just saw, but I can explain...”

I was completely at a loss for words at this point, but before I could continue, Fred waved his hand in the air and shook his head.

“Don’t need to hear it,” he said. “Live and let live, far as I’m concerned. I ain’t one to judge a man. That’s between him and his Maker.”

He lowered his voice and continued: “Fact is, I was hoping you’d let me join in for a spell.”

What! Did I just hear that? A three-way? With Fred? You gotta be kidding me! I didn’t even want to picture the image. The contrast between the beautiful Jesse and the grizzled old goat in bib overalls was too gross for words.

I stumbled through an excuse. “Well, gee Fred, no offense, but it took me a while to set this up and we had kind of a one-on-one thing going on, if you know what I mean...”

“Oh, I understand. Two’s company, three’s a crowd and all. Well, maybe you could let me have a little time alone with him then? Fifteen minutes, is all I ask.”

How could I refuse? He had literally caught me with my pants down about to fuck a 16-year-old boy. He had me over a barrel.

I sighed. “Sure, go ahead.”

Fred eagerly entered the barn. “Thanks Carl! That’s mighty neighborly of you!”

“Fifteen minutes. And don’t be too rough on him.”

I leaned against the wall and lit up a smoke.

What a kick in the head. You just never know about people, I thought. Who’d guess a 64-year-old dairy farmer with six kids had a secret hankering for boy flesh?

And what was happening to me? I felt confused and uneasy. Something about the boy got under my skin. He awakened feelings in me I was sure were long dead and buried. It wasn’t just his gorgeous face, and luscious body, or his big dick, or even the way he submitted to my demands. It ran deeper than that. Something about the way he looked into my eyes with those baby blues, and said my name, and responded to my touch. It was like an iceberg was melting and a dam was bursting. Somehow, he had turned the tables and I became HIS captive. I wanted to hold him and protect him and dare I even think it...love him?

If these thoughts were making me queasy, the idea of the old geezer pawing the tender young boy filled me with disgust.

Not only that, but here I had the kid half convinced he was bi if not gay, and now old Fred comes along to do god know what to him that will probably turn him off mansex forever.

And what would Jesse think of me for letting him do it?

I couldn’t bring myself to look through the window, but I stood at the barn entrance and listened in. There seemed to be an argument going on.

I could hear Jesse saying: “That ain’t so! It wasn’t me...She’s lying!”

The next sounds I heard got me even more agitated. “No, please don’t—Oh God, no!”

What was Fred doing to the boy?

I paced back and forth nervously and then I heard: “Help! HELP! HELP ME, CARL!!”

Whatever was happening, it had gone far enough. I stomped out my cigarette and rushed into the barn.

Before me was a sickening scene: Fred had tied Jesse’s ankles up near his wrists and was kneeling between his naked legs. He had a jackknife in one hand and was stretching the helpless teen’s scrotum with the other.

To the boy’s screams I added my own cry: “Fred, Stop!!! What the hell is going on here?”

“Thanks for holding him for me Carl. This is the devil that raped my little Emmie. Ripped her up so bad we had to take her to the doc to fix her up. She wouldn’t talk to the police about it, but I swore if I seen him again I’d cut his nuts off.”

“It’s a lie!” said Jesse. “It wasn’t me!”

Fred said, “I thought that was his bike up yonder, but I knowed for sure he was here when I seen his hat there on the window.”

I looked up and there was Jesse’s cap with its distinctive purple and black insignia lying on the wide window ledge. I’d forgotten to hide it when I rushed out of the barn earlier. Fred must have spotted it when we hauled out the digger.

By now I was standing next to Fred and Jesse. I glared at the boy. “So it’s true, then.”

“She wanted it, she was begging me for it! She weren’t no virgin, anyways. But I don’t expect no fag to understand about girls...”

“Ya hear that?” said Fred. “He’s proud of it. Let me cut him and I’ll be out of here right quick.”

I looked at Jesse and shook my head in sad disappointment. “Now Fred, let’s not be hotheaded here. If you cut him like this, he’s going to bleed, and then we’ll have to call 911 for a medical emergency. Next we’ll have the cops on our ass. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” Fred conceded. “I don’t want to get you into no trouble over this.”

“If we’re going to castrate this rapist, let’s do him right. Help me get him up on the table over there.”

“What!” cried Jesse. “Let me go you fuckers! This is between me and her, and she ain’t talking.”

“Shut up, girl raper,” I said.

He whined and hollered the whole while Fred and I patiently unfastened him from the stall crossbar and retied his wrists and ankles together. It was quite an effort to get his young squirming body up onto the table. The neck strap I had fastened to the workbench came in real handy. Once that held him down, it was short work to tie his limbs one by one so he was laid out spread-eagled on the table.

The desperate sex criminal made a last pitch while I was snipping off a strip of duck tape. “Please don’t let him cut me Carl...Daddy! I thought you cared about me. I trusted you...I was even gonna let you fuck me...please, Da—”

The tape over the boy’s mouth helped Fred and me concentrate on our tasks.

The old farmer was puzzled at first by the bander I brandished.

“I know how they work,” said Fred. “But you can’t expect a boy to walk around with a band on his sack till it’s dead and drops off.”

I explained that the point of the band was just to keep the boy from bleeding too badly when we cut him. After I had his balls banded, I turned my attention to his cock.

“You don’t have to watch this, but I want him to be hard when we cut him.”

Fred pretended to look away while I went down on the boy. With my skillful attentions the young prick quickly sprang up again to its full glory. I snapped two bands around it near the base.

Fred looked at the rampant phallus with a mixture of anger and awe. “My poor little baby,” he said. “We should be cuttin’ that off, too.”

“Now, let’s not go overboard,” I said. “You’re gettin’ your revenge, just like you wanted.”

I lit the acetylene torch and asked Fred to hand me his knife. “The heat’ll sterilize the blade, so he don’t get infected, and it’ll cauterize the wound so he won’t bleed too bad.”

When it was glowing white hot, I handed the knife back to Fred. “Just make sure you cut below the band.”

I turned to face Jesse and stealthily unzipped, pulled out my dick, and slowly jacked myself with my left hand while stroking the boy’s blond hair with my right. His glistening blue eyes seemed to plead with me. “It’ll be over before you know it,” I said. In a few moments his eye’s clenched and a muffled scream sounded through his taped mouth. I turned to see Fred sawing through the last bit of the teen’s scrotum.

“There, I done it,” he said. “He got what was coming to him.” He held up the detached sack.

“Just lay it on the table, there,” I said.

After setting down the ball bag, Fred pulled a red handkerchief out of his back pocket and began to wipe off his blade. “I don’t know how to thank you, Carl. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “That’s all I ask. I mean it, don’t tell nobody. You never seen the kid, you never heard of him, you don’t know nothing about him.”

Fred folded up the knife and put it in his pocket along with the handkerchief. “That’s a deal, neighbor.”

As he turned to walk out he said, “Don’t bother yourself about coming over tomorrow. I reckon you’ll be busy for a day or two.”

When I was sure Fred was gone, I took off my boots, then my shirt, and then my jeans and underwear. Except for my socks, I was naked like Jesse, and I had a boner like his, but not as big. He moaned and cried. I inspected his wound. Fred did a real nice job, cutting close to the band. The seared flesh hardly bled at all.

I picked up the sack of balls. They were still warm. It was so strange to handle them apart from their former owner. When I was a little kid we had pigs on the farm, and my dad would call neighbors over to help him cut the boars. Come to think of it, Fred might have even been one of them. I was too young then to know what was going on. They locked themselves in the pig pen and I could hear the godawful squealing but it was years before I figured out just what was happening in there. I rubbed the sack over and around my stiff cock.

I picked up the syringe and approached my gelding. He wept inconsolably. I said, “Don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be all right.”

I peeled the tape off his mouth. “I hate you, you evil fucker,” he said through his sobs. You set me up for this. I hate you!”

I didn’t even try to set him straight. It all seemed so inevitable now, it was almost like I had willed it. “I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“God damn you to hell!”

I wouldn’t be surprised, I thought, as I poked the syringe into his arm and sent the boy off to a dreamless sleep. In repose, he looked positively angelic. I picked up the sack, stuffed it into his mouth, and closed his jaw to hold it there. I freed him from his restraints, and pulled him down toward the end of the table so that his legs dangled at the knees. I was glad I had taken the effort to sand the surface so he wouldn’t get any splinters. I carefully brushed away all the bits of straw and dust that were sticking to him. He was so, so beautiful.

There was one thing left to do to make him perfect.

As I heated my shiny, well-honed blade with the torch, I reassured myself that innocent girls like my dear little imaginary daughter Sherri would never be safe as long as the ball-less stud still carried that weapon between his legs. Yes, it had to be done.

I stood before him with my glowing knife in hand. Though listing slightly, Jesse’s big cock had remained surprisingly stiff through his ordeal. For the last time I leaned down to take him into my mouth. Slowly and carefully I sawed between the bands at the base of his dick, while gripping his glans with my teeth and tugging.

With one final slice Jesse’s fat manhood dangled freely from my lips.

I straightened up to survey the damage. Jesse with his mouthful of balls slept on, blissfully unaware that he was no longer a man, nor a boy, but a completely sexless eunuch. The half-inch stump that remained of his mighty pole was hardly visible in the bloody tangle of his pubic hair.

I pushed more of the amputated penis into my face, until I had a comfortable mouthful of the warm meat, and clenched my teeth to hold it there as I flipped Jesse over onto his stomach.

Then I pulled his ass down off the bench, held him by his hips, and thrust deep inside my sweet, unconscious, castrated, and now dickless angel. I fucked him long and hard, while a sprinkling of red droplets from his severed cock fell softly like tears onto his naked back.