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## Video Tape 2

What is it about Halloween that makes me so evil? Okay, so maybe I am kind of an evil guy all around. I mean, I do enjoy putting my young son into dangerous situations and watching him work his way out of it. That is not good fatherly behavior any time of year, but why am I so much worse on Halloween—maybe it is the darkness of the holiday itself. It is a pretty fucked up day when you think about it. Perhaps it is because all day I see little cuties dressed up in costumes, and I cannot do anything about it, so I make it worse on my son.
 
Those are likely contributing factors, but I think I know the real reason I get extra mean on Halloween. It is because ever since he was old enough to remember what Halloween is about, the holiday is his favorite day of the year. He even loves it more than Christmas. Starting in September, he starts blabbing on about it, telling his mom and me what he would dress up as and asking us how much candy we would allow him to eat. The boy has a real sweet tooth, and I use to get mad at my wife for letting him gorge on candy. I do not want my son to become some fat-ass.
 
But now that my wife is dead, I definitely do not have to worry about my son gaining weight. I keep him on a rigorous, high-protein diet. Most of his meals consist of my jizz, a handful of vitamins and maybe some veggies. He whines about being hungry a great deal, but it keeps him in fantastic shape, and I know he likes to look good for his daddy.
 
So yeah, his excitement about this holiday gets me worked up, and I know it makes me sound cruel, but I definitely contribute to getting him excited. In addition to letting him pick out three costumes, I am also talking up his candy all the time. I kept telling him how much he was going to get and that I am going to let him eat it all on Halloween night, just like he always wanted. Of course, he would have to go through the wringer first, but I did not feel like sharing that bit with him until Halloween night.
 
Speaking of which, I guess it is not Halloween anymore. It is nearly two thirty in the morning, and I have only watched one of the four tapes of my son performing disgusting, perverted acts with men.
 
As I wait for the next video to start, I thought I heard something. It is like a spooky moan—like a ghost or witch or something. I suppose the Halloween spirit is just getting to me because the second time I hear it, it is clear that it is coming from upstairs. My little boy is trying to call me.
 
“You’re supposed to be resting!” I holler at my boy.
 
I climb up the stairs, my rock hard cock flopping in front of me. It has green zombie paint all over it. What a messy holiday this is turning into. I turn the corner into my son’s room to find him lying there on his bed in the fetal position. He is shivering. Apparently, he was too lazy to even lift up the covers and get under them. He looked cold all naked there on his bed, but if he is too dumb to cover himself up, I am not going to help him.
 
“What is it, boy?” I said.
 
Slowly my boy rolls over to face me. His face is so pale it is a little scary, but that is what Halloween is all about. The whole reason I put my son through these dangerous situations is that I want him to have a good Halloween scare. And I want him to be frightened out of his wits.
 
Judging by his wide, shocked eyes, it is clear he is still terrified from his night. I cannot believe he is still awake, but that is what sluts are like, you know. They cannot sleep if they are still obsessing over the sex they have had. And by the looks of him, my boy has had a lot of sex tonight.
 
My boy mumbles something, but I cannot hear it. I walk over to him.
 
“What’d you say, son?”
 
He repeats it, but he is still too weak, so I press my ear right to his lips.
 
“One more time, boy.”
 
“Please...one...candy…please, Daddy,” he hoarsely stutters.
 
Aw! The boy wants one piece of candy! Well, after giving me such a show, I decide that he deserves a little token of appreciation. I run downstairs, reach into the bag and grab the first piece that I can get my hands on, and then run back upstairs.
 
His eyes widen when he sees the candy in my hand—a sweet tart. It is not much, but he looks pretty goddamn happy to see it. I guess, after the darkness he has been through tonight, a little pink piece of sugar is pretty much the most hopeful thing in the world.
 
“Here ya go, kiddo,” I say as I walk over to him.
 
Just as he had for the stranger that destroyed his face, he opened his mouth wide to accept the gift. What a trained little slut I have—and all this in only six months! I start to put the candy in his mouth, but then I look in his mouth, and I cannot believe what I’m seeing.
 
His throat and mouth are still absolutely destroyed even though it has been hours since the encounter with the soldier that fucked his face. With the hand that is not holding the candy, I reach forward and grab his lower jaw, hooking my fingers over his bottom teeth. I yank open his mouth further than any dentist would recommend getting a good look. Apparently, children’s throats do not play well with massive adult cocks. It is really ripped up. His uvula is the size of a peach pit, and I cannot imagine what is going on down in the recesses of my son’s gullet.
 
And once I have that thought, I realize I need to know, so while my little champ whimpers, I start reaching back, thrusting aside that swollen uvula to see what it is like down in the deeps. Despite his skills, my son still has somewhat of a gag reflex, and I can feel it going into overdrive as my thick fingers turn the corner down into his throat.
 
“Oh shit,” I say as I feel it down there.
 
His throat is squeezing on my fingers tight as fuck, almost cutting off the circulation. His body is producing saliva at a rapid-fire rate, no doubt trying to cleanse the wounds from a brutal face fucking. It is like a hot, wet pussy.
 
“No way, no candy for you,” I say as I withdraw my fingers. As I do, I pull a big string of cummy spit out of his throat, and I wipe it on his lips. “No candy! Candy isn’t good for sore throats. You need some cough medicine, sweetie.”
 
I leave him there, tossing the sweet tart in the toilet as I head to his room. He cannot have candy at a time like this. I fish around in the medicine cabinet and find the medicine. Dayquil, hmmm, this stuff will probably keep him up, but it seems he does not want to sleep anyway. And besides, I like the way Dayquil fucks with his head.
 
I head back to his room and start to measure out a portion of the orange stuff for him, but then a terrible idea comes over me. Maybe it’s the orange color of the medicine—so reminiscent of Halloween, but I feel that I need to do it, even if it is especially evil. I pour the Dayquil out and over my cock and then fist my dick to lube it up real good.
 
“Open wide,” I say to my boy, “time for your medicine!”
 
Before my son can protest, I am in his mouth and pushing forward. I have to know how that bruised and beaten throat feels on my cock, so I push and push without stopping, ignoring his moans as I go deep.
 
Now, my son hates Dayquil, so it is no wonder he starts gagging like a motherfucker once I get back in his throat. He’s flailing and thrashing as I push, but it’s only because he hates his medicine so much. And boys need their medication, right? So you understand why I had to keep pushing and pushing and pushing.
 
Unfortunately, his velvety gullet is too much for me, and after about fifteen minutes or so of this, I have to pull out because I am afraid I will cum. I do not want to cum yet because there are still three movies waiting for me downstairs. And then, once I have edged to all of them, I will come back up and unload my sperm. I start to walk away from him, but through his gasps and coughs, I hear him say his favorite phrase.
 
“Candy, Daddy, please.”
 
“Oh, all right,” I say
 
I am annoyed that he is distracting me from my movie viewing. I head down to the bathroom, bend over, and pluck the little round candy from the water. There’s some piss in there from earlier, but that’s nothing new to my boy.
 
I walk back to his room and flick the candy in his direction. I linger for a moment, seeing what he will do. He looks up at the candy, which is stuck to his headboard. He reaches for it with his hand, but his trembling little arm is too weak and falls back to the bed. So instead, he cranes his neck, sticks out that pink tongue that makes him so popular and licks off the candy. It dissolves on his tongue, and I know it must taste more like piss than sugar, but he seems content with it and falls back onto his pillow to resume his recovery.
 
I head back downstairs and flop down on the couch. All this talk about candy has made me hungry, so I pull my son’s pillowcase full of candy up onto the couch and dig in. The kid got so much candy this year that he will not miss a few pieces if I have a little snack. I grab the remote as I pop a full-sized Snicker into my mouth and turn on the TV.
 
The second videotape begins.

   VIDEO TAPE 2

 My son is not the brightest bulb in the box, which is why it does not surprise me that he starts this video out by carrying the camera backward. He may be dumb, but this time it works out because it gives me a full view of his second costume.
 
It is probably very familiar to you—it may be the most popular costume of all time for little boys—Spiderman. I picked out one that was a size too small for him, so it looks like it is painted on. From where I can see him, I can just see a close up of red and blue, but I know how the costume looks on him. I let him wear it whenever he wants. It’s so tight in all the right places. There is not a full mask, just a hat piece that comes over his eyes. It makes it a bit hard for him to see, but it is absolutely adorable.
 
My son figures out that the camera is backward and flips the camera around. Now I can see the house I’m sending him to. Unlike the first house, which was on a residential street, this one seems to be tucked back in the woods a bit. I didn’t visit any of these houses or meet any of these men, mind you. They were all guys who I just found online. I had no idea what was in store for my son. If the first video was any indication, I was in for a significant shock.
 
The house was old and rickety, not neat and new like the first one. The porch creaked under him as he took up the steps. There was no doorbell, so my son just rapped his little fist on the door. I hear him clear his throat, and I remember that at this point in the night, his throat must have been on fire. When the door opens, my son lets out a little scream, and I give out a gasp. The figure in the doorway truly is terrifying. He is bigger than the last guy and coal black except for a scary white spider painted on his chest. He’s dressed as Venom, one of the archenemies of Spiderman. It is truly frightening—he even has the scary mask with the insanely sharp and large teeth and the grotesquely long tongue. It looks so real!
 
Then I realize that the long, pointy tongue is real as it starts to waggle at the boy, licking the teeth of the mask. The camera begins to shake, and I realize my little boy is paralyzed in fear. I am really giving him a good scare this Halloween!
 
Suddenly the camera turns, and I realize my son is running away. That little shit! So rude! Was this tape going to be a bust? However, I soon hear big footsteps behind him, and then the camera jerks and falls to the ground. It drops to the ground facing the house, and through the leaves on the ground, I can see that Spiderman’s super speed did nothing to save him from Venom. My little boy has been picked up, tossed over Venom’s shoulder, and is now being thrown into the house. Venom follows him in and shuts the door. I curse, realizing that I’m going to miss out on video number two because my shit-for-brains kid dropped the camera. I start to shut the video off when I hear the door to the dilapidated shack open up. Venom is back without my son, and he’s walking toward the camera. He picks it up and stares into it, and the sight is genuinely frightening. His big, long tongue is just waggling at the camera, and his teeth are terrifying. He’s letting out a low, creepy laugh.
 
My son must be scared shitless.
 
Then, thankfully, Venom brings the camera inside. I see the interior of his house—which is sparse and messy—but eventually, he opens a door that leads down into the basement. It is lit in dim red light, which gives it a really slutty quality. Wow, this was going to be good.
 
He situates the camera on a flat surface, then swivels it so that it’s facing my son. And that’s when my mouth drops open in shock. Along the back wall of his dingy basement is a giant web. It’s made out of black rope and has cuffs and cranks attached to it. It is definitely a spider web, but it looks like it was plucked out of an S&M freak’s wet dream.
 
And in the middle of that spider web is you know whom. My son is tied in an X formation with his little arms stretched above his head and his legs spread wide. He is up right now, and he is wiggling and struggling like a little fly caught in a web. It is clearly useless.
 
My heart skips a beat when Venom appears on camera with a long, scary knife in his hand. What is he going to do with that? I don’t have to wait long to find out.
 
“Stop struggling,” the man says in that scary Venom voice of his.
 
Once again, my boy is paralyzed in fear. Venom moves forward and traces the knife down from my boy’s neck to his groin. I can see my boy trembling, and I realize that this move has not cut my boy, thankfully, but instead sliced my son’s favorite costume in two. No wonder my boy is so upset!
 
I watch as Venom slowly removes every stick of clothing on my boys’ body, except for the red mask cover the boy’s eyes. I know it must be almost impossible for my little guy to see, what with the mask and the dark lighting. That must make it all the spookier!
 
As Venom slices at my boy’s clothes, I make a shocking discovery about the Venom costume. He’s wearing tight, black, rubber pants, and his mask is pretty scary and real. But the body of the costume—his torso—is not covered in a stitch of clothing. No, the man is black as night, and it is not body paint.
 
Damn. I have handed over my pale, little white boy to a man whose skin is so dark that it honestly looks like a black costume. He must have painted the white spider on his bare chest. I cannot wait to see what his cock would be like! Finally, my trapped boy is nude. He has stopped struggling and just hangs there, looking defeated. He is figured out that this is not a situation Spiderman can get himself out of.
 
Venom disappears off camera and then comes back with a massive trunk. He puts it down near the web, opens it, and then begins fishing in it. The first thing he pulls out is a short whip. It is one of those that are just a handle with a bunch of pieces of leather all tied together.
 
“Oh shit,” I say.
 
I have never done this with my kid. He does not even know what S&M is. He does not understand that some men enjoy whipping and torturing little boys, putting them through intense pain, but he is about to find out. Part of me wishes I had said no whipping or abusing the boy, but then I look down at my cock and realize that I’m painting myself in pre-cum. I chew on some more candy as I begin to jerk off watching the show.
 
The man teases my whimpering little son for a while, just lightly dragging the leather up and down his body. I even hear my son giggle a little bit because it must be tickling. Then, Venom stops, pulls it away, pauses for a moment, and then—SLAP! SLAP!
 
My son screams out as the whip lands directly on his tiny, flat little tummy.
 
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
 
Three more hits, without even pausing! One more on his tummy, then two more on his little squirming, twiggy little thighs.
 
Fuck, how is it that watching my little boy being tied up and whipped makes me so goddamn horny? What is wrong with me? Apparently, it’s not just I that gets horny from it. As the man beats my son, he also pulls out his giant, black cock.
 
Giant isn’t even the right word. The thing is so thick, and long it’s downright terrifying. It is curved up in a nasty way, but what’s really amazing about it is not its size, it is the color. It is even blacker than the skin on the rest of his body—except for the head, which is bright red. It really looks like some sort of gorilla or donkey cock. Yikes.
 
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
 
The sounds of the whips on my son’s body are joined by the sound of the man jerking off as he tortures my kid. He even whips my kid in the face a few times. Then he stops and leaves my boy panting there, hanging limply, red all over. He disappears off camera, and I realize he’s come around to control the camera’s lens. It zooms in on my boy’s cock and—oh, my god—you would not believe it, but all that whipping has made my boys’ tiny little cocklet rock hard.
 
I leap up from the couch and run to the bottom of the stairs.
 
“You didn’t tell me you were a pain pig, slut!” I yell to my boy and then laugh.
 
I head back to the couch, not wanting to miss the show. By the time I get back to the couch, the man is putting the whip back in the trunk. He then walks behind the web and starts to climb up it. As he does, my boy bounces a bit on the ropes, because he is bound so tightly. Venom climbs up and up until his pulsing cock is right next to my boy’s face, coming through from behind the rope and resting on his cheeks. For a moment, I think I see a tear rolling down from my son’s eye, but then I realize that the cock is just steadily oozing pre-cum on the little cock slut.
 
The man is a contortionist! He bends down, looking like a real black spider so that my boy’s mouth is just above Venom’s cock. He looks right at the camera, sticks out that terrifyingly long tongue. It looks almost fluorescent against his dark skin. He leans over and sticks his tongue right in my little boy’s ear.
 
The look on my son’s face had me laughing and jerking harder than ever. He was staring out the corner of his eye, too afraid to turn his head fully. He was literally trembling, but his cocklet was still rock hard as ever, but at the same time, his face is indicating his disgust. I am guessing because he has about three inches of thick, wet, adult tongue in his ear canal.
 
The scary man withdraws his tongue and begins to speak in a low, growling hiss. To be honest, it makes my heart skip a beat it’s so creepy. This guy is really hamming it up, and my kid is totally falling for it!
 
“All right, Spidey,” the man says to my naked child. “Listen up. I’m here to teach you—and your daddy—a little lesson.”
 
Uh, oh, I think. My heart starts to pound harder. What had I gotten my kid into?
 
“Do you know what a boygasm is?” the man hissed.
 
My boy says nothing. He just shakes in his bonds.
 
“Answer me!” the man screams in a sudden, loud voice, and he gave the web a good shake making my kid jostle around like a ragdoll.
 
“N-no!” the boy said. “Does it hurt?”
 
“That depends,” the man said. “There are many ways to have a boygasm, and we’re going to discover a few of them. After I finish my lesson, I’m going to give you a piece of candy and kick you out. So get ready, boy, for the scariest ride of your life starting now.”
 
Suddenly, the man leans forward, grabbing one of the horizontal ropes that make up the web and yanked it up and over my son’s head. He lowers it down until it is running right across my little boy’s neck.
 
“Too tight?” the man said.
 
My boy could only cough in response as his face turns bright red and his eyes bulge out. Apparently, that was enough of a reaction for Venom, who leaps down from the web, circles around front, and picks up the whip again.
 
My little boy struggles, but the rope across his neck is tight, and he is not really able to move much if he wants to breathe. His eyes are practically bugging out of his head as the man approaches him, raises the whip, and begins beating the boy’s hard little cocklet over and over and over.
 
Had there been a smidge more air going to his brain, I am sure my son would have yelled, but he did not. He just took the beating on his junk without making a peep. His little lips turned blue—that is how much he liked it!
 
As Venom beats my son, he leans forward with his big, black foot and presses a pedal on the floor, which begins to shift the web backward. In no time, my son is on his back, and his ankles are high in the air. The man did not miss a beat whipping my boy’s cocklet as he rotated him. I really appreciated how much effort he put into this special spooky night. He must have rigged this up just for my kid. And he obviously put some care into what I would see, too. The camera angles are perfect, and the image is crisp. Like real porn!
 
Once the camera was flipped back, I had a great view of my boy’s little pink button of a butt hole. I had told the guys not to fuck him, and they had promised not to, but to be honest, an e-mail promise sent from a boy-loving stranger on Craigslist isn’t exactly the most honorable vow.
 
However, what I saw on that camera completely changed my mind because right there in front of my eyes I saw my child’s little kiddie cunt winking seductively. With each whip to his hard little cocklet, the boy’s asshole puckered and kissed the air. That small pink rubber band of his was just calling out to me. ‘Please, Daddy,’ it said. ‘Make it hurt.’
 
As if to answer this call, the whipping got harder and faster. It was unbelievable how quickly Venom could move that whip. This man was clearly a skilled sadist. My son just took it. He struggled to breathe while still giving me that cute little sphincter wink. I couldn’t believe his little butthole could keep up. Just when I thought my boy was going to break from the whipping, the man stopped. He stood back for a moment, and then suddenly began to laugh.
 
“Here it comes!” he announced.
 
I don’t know how the man knew, but he was right. Just at that moment, after taking a severe ball beating, my boy began to have his very first dry cum. The little guy was thrashing around like he had the strength of ten men. His minuscule body was wracked with waves of freakish boy pleasure as he experienced his very first orgasm. My mouth hung open, and I had to stop touching my dick as I watched the show. I was too afraid that I would cum.
 
Think about your first orgasm. What was it like? Was it a normal wet dream? Maybe some fun humping something. Well, my little son had a completely different experience for his first cum. Instead of some curious and cute little story, my son would always remember that his first orgasm occurred in the darkened basement of a very deranged, very cruel nigger, who liked to see little boys writhe as they screamed and cried.
 
Speaking of screaming and crying, that’s exactly what my son did as soon as his boygasm subsided because the instant he fell slack against the ropes of his prison, Venom was behind him and removing the rope from his neck, letting the air come rushing back in.
 
The sound of my boy’s yell of confusion was so loud I had to turn the TV down. It was a noise of pure animalism, and it was music to my fatherly ears. Eventually, it died down, but my son’s experience with Venom was far from over. He lay there, panting in the ropes while Venom backed off for a bit and let him catch his breath, but only for a moment. Venom was back on screen, smiling at me through that fucking scary mask.
 
My boy tried to lift his head up a few times to see what Venom was doing, but it was useless. His little orgasm rocked him so hard that he could not even keep his head up. It reminded me of when he was a little baby in my arms! Not much has changed!
 
Venom smiled at me once more, and then he stuck out that long, scary tongue. Seriously, it looked like the thing came at least three inches out of his mouth. It was insane. Slowly, Venom dropped to his knees, so his face was between my little boy. He slowly rotated the web, so instead of looking at my sons’ hole straight, on, I had a side view. I could see his little legs in the air, then his little left ass cheek, but not the hole anymore. I could also see the profile of Venom’s face as he lined his mouth up with my son’s little pucker.
 
And then I saw that tongue go out. I knew the instant that it hit my boy’s hole because my son let out a scream and whimper. By the third or fourth lick, those shocked, scared screams were unmistakable moans of pleasure.
 
I watched the stranger lap at my boy’s hole, feeling intensely jealous that I had not had a chance to do much of that with my kid, but also immensely horned up that some man I had never met was tasting my little guy’s pucker.
 
My little Spiderboy started to thrash again. I could tell the slow licks were getting to him, and so could Venom, apparently because soon those licks turned into pokes as he began to flick his tongue in and out of his mouth like a reptile.
 
“Oh!” my boy moaned in surprise as his asshole was penetrated by Venom’s tongue.
 
Venom gave the camera a sick smile as he kept the tip of his long tongue in the boy’s hole. Then he began to push it forward.
 
“OOOOH NOOOO!” my son cried out as his hole was invaded by the long, relentless pink tongue, but those were his final words because as he took more of the stranger’s tongue, he lost his ability to speak or protest. Once again, he was just moaning in pleasure, as he took more and more tongue.
 
Soon my son was getting a good old-fashioned tongue fucking. I’d never seen such a flexible tongue. It was almost like a snake the way it crept in and out of my boy’s hole without stopping. The kid must have had at least four or five inches of pink in him when the next boygasm started.
 
What set my boy off, however, wasn’t just the tongue in his asshole. No, because that boygasm started just as Venom reached up with his hands and tweaked my little boy’s tiny red nipples. Hard. Real titty-twisters. The boy yelped in pain, but he began to boygasm right then and there.
 
That was when I realized I’d raised a real pain pig. As he got his nipples abused, my little hero rode out his second orgasm. Such a young age and he was already having multiple orgasms—though I’d heard somewhere that little boys can have more than one, just as women do.
 
It was a lovely sight. Though I could not see my son’s little asshole puckering, I enjoyed watching his sorry excuse for a dick twitch helplessly. What was going through my son’s mind at that moment? Was he thinking he should be ashamed that before reaching the third grade, that he was experiencing such an adult moment? Or was it pure, unadulterated pleasure that racked his little body on those ropes in that stranger’s basement?
 
These are the kinds of questions a father must ask himself. I started jerking myself again as my little boy came down from his second boygasm. He looked exhausted as he hung there, panting through his mask, his slender tummy rising and falling. He was clearly coated in a thin sheen of sweat, and he apparently could no longer support his own weight, as he was completely slack against the ropes.
 
“Did you know little boys can have many, many orgasms in a row? It is exhausting and somewhat painfully pleasurable, but it’s possible.” The man was speaking to no one in particular—but his words were enough to bring about tears in my son (and a few tears of pre-cum out of my cockhead.)
 
“P-p-please...no more. I just want my candy!” my son said in between pants, but his tiny voice was barely audible. It was so quiet that I had to rewind and listen to it over and over with the audio turned up.
 
His words seemed to have no effect on the stranger I’d sold my son too either. He just started humming as he rummaged through the chest again. I couldn’t wait to see what he was going to pull out next.
 
My mouth dropped open when I saw what it was. The man had withdrawn a long, slender, metal rod. On the very end was a metal ball just a bit larger than a golf ball. The rest of the rod was about as thick as a bottle of poppers and about thirteen inches long. However, what was really shocking about it was the cord that came from the bottom of it, which was hooked up to a box with a dial on top.
 
My son started to shake as soon as he saw it, but he was still too weak to fight as the man turned a few cranks on the web, spreading the boy’s legs savagely wide. My kid was practically doing a split—good thing I’d worked with him on his flexibility.
 
My flesh and blood started sobbing as the man began to lube up the instrument with what looked to me like Crisco. I don’t think the kid knew what the toy was, but his little slut instinct apparently made it clear that he was in for something intense.
 
“It’s time,” the man said with finality.
 
Then he approached my boy, pulled the toy toward, and started to press the ball end of the metal device up against my boy’s cunt.
 
The noise my son made when that big, rough, metal ball invaded his tight little semi-virginal pussy made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Talk about spooky! My kid sounded like a mixture of a dying raccoon and a female porn star as he started to the metal rod to the hilt. But he only had about an inch of the ball up his ass and twelve inches to go.
 
Needless to say, the rest of the ball and the rod that followed were eye-opening experiences for my boy, quite literally. I hate to admit it, but I truly enjoyed focusing on the fear, pain, and sorrow in his long-ago bright blue eyes as he felt that metal ball rearrange a few internal organs. The man suddenly stopped, and he and my son both looked down at my kid’s stomach in shock. They both had opposite but equally arousing reactions. My kid let out a wail as if he had been shot, while the man started laughing hysterically. He came back over to the camera and zoomed in on my kid’s tummy so I could see what he saw.
 
My kid was still panting, and each time he inhaled, something amazing happened. With each shallow, shuddering inhalation, that magical little ball appeared just above his navel. You could see it clear as day—there’s no way to hide your shame if you’re trolling for dick before you have mastered the alphabet!
 
“Jesus, now that’s slutty!” the man said with glee.
 
Then he did something unexpected, he flicked that little metal ball. Pretty hard, too. The dying raccoon sound was back, but louder this time. Apparently, that had hurt my kid quite a bit, but then do you know what happened?
 
My son spiraled into another spontaneous boygasm. His shriek of pain slowly became a vibrating moan of intense pleasure as he rode out the tidal wave of his biggest boygasm to date. His whole body shook, and his little cocklet was wagging up and down, smacking pubic bone. This earned him a few more whips on his hard, twitching cocklet, but my kid was too in the orgasm to react. In case you lost count, this little whore has now had three full-body orgasms—all within fifteen minutes.
 
“All right, kiddo. One more boygasm, and you can have your candy. Are you listening to me?”
 
My little boy looked up with big, sad, vacant eyes. He looked absolutely exhausted. The ball in his stomach was still visible, but it was clear he was too checked out to listen. So the man did something sure to get his attention. He walked over to my boy and with one shove of his fist, rammed the rest of the rod into my boy’s body. My son was awake then! He stiffened up, his eyes awake and alert as he mouth let forth a great wail of pain.
 
“PLEASE!” he shouted in his high little boy voice. “I can’t do anymore! I’m too tired! I want to get out of here and go get more candy! PLEASE!”
 
The man chuckled at this. “If you had been listening, you would know that you’re almost done. You have to have one more boygasm, and you have to do it yourself.”
 
“Wh…what?” my son wavering voice answered.
 
His eyes went wide, and he looked so scared and confused. Apparently, the man didn’t feel like explaining himself. Instead, he went over and began to untie my son. He undid his arms first, and the boy fell forward like a rag doll. The kind man caught him and held him in one arm, breathing into his face through that scary mask, as he undid the other legs. Then he dropped the kid to the floor.
 
My exhausted little camper lay there in a huddled mess on the floor, too weak to even reach back and try to pull the invading metal rod out of his ass. Luckily the man in charge was kind enough to kick the box with the dial on it toward my son. He then bent down, picked up my son’s tiny, pale hand, and set it on top of that dial. He turned the dial only slightly.
 
Instantly my child started to spasm on the floor. After watching the boy flop around like a fish for a while, the man turned it back off. It was now clear that the dial was designed to shock my boy’s guts from the inside.
 
“You have five minutes to boygasm, or else you’re staying here forever with me. You’ll never see your daddy again.”
 
My heart started to pound. Was he serious? Obviously, my kid had made it out of there, but I wondered if I had put my son in a situation that might actually end up with him becoming a permanent slave to a black master. Why did that thought make my cock grow harder?
 
Either way, my son clearly believed the man.
 
“No!” he shouted as he looked up at the man with pleading eyes, but all he saw in return was the blank, frightening stare of the Venom mask and the giant, black cock bobbing over him.
 
“Yes. You’re down to four minutes. Use the dial.”
 
Slowly, my child sat up, still impaled fully on that rod, and reached for the little box of doom. It took him another half a minute to work up the courage to turn it even slightly, and once again just the slightest turn made him flop around all over. Eventually, he regained composure and managed to shut it off.
 
“Three minutes!” Venom hissed.
 
“Oh, god,” my son wailed.
 
Then I saw him do something very mature. He sat up, took a deep breath, and made a very adult decision. He really sacrificed himself for the game I’d created for him, and I’m eternally thankful for it because what he did was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
 
With tears in his eyes and fear written all over his face, my son reached forward and turned the dial all the way. If the slight turn of the dial had made him flop like a fish, then the full turn made him look like he’d been grabbed by an invisible ghost and thrown around the room. My kiddie whore lost hold of the dial in his convulsions, which means he just had to take it as the evil instrument my friend gave him cooked about ninety-eight percent of his intestinal tract.
 
He rode electrified rod like a fucking cowboy at a rodeo. I think he may have secretly thrown the dial because he was enjoying the electro-torture so much. In any event, the man let him take it for the full three minutes my boy had left before he had to boygasm.
 
But I’m proud to say he made it. Just as he was approaching the end of the time limit, my new friend grabbed the box and turned the dial off. The sound of the snapping and sizzling was delightful, but to my surprise, my boy didn’t stop flopping around. In fact, he was still screaming. That’s when I realized he was boygasming—HARD.
 
Venom realized it too and quickly bent down to yank the rod out of my boy in one swift and cruel pull. My boy didn’t even notice—once again, he was selfishly wrapped up in his own boygasm.
 
I got a nice view of his gaping little hole. It was hard to miss seeing that the anal ring, as well as the seven inches or so of my boy’s anal canal that I could see, was bright red from the ouchies. Somebody get this kid a Band-Aid!
 
All good things must come to an end, as my son learned on that dungeon floor. Eventually that final and most potent orgasm came to a close, leaving my mess of an offspring lying on the floor, but he perked up only slightly when the man said, “Time for candy.”
 
The guy disappeared off screen for a moment, then returned a bite-size Milky War bar. He unwrapped it and then held it out to my kid.
 
The boy was too weak to lift his head, but he did manage to open his mouth. For just a moment, I saw a glimmer of happiness in his eyes as the candy popped into his mouth. However, that only lasted for about a millisecond, because just after, the boy got something equally brown and tasty—Venom’s cockhead.
 
I genuinely have a lot of respect for Venom. Not only does he know how to put my child through the wringer and give him multiple pain-induced boygasms, but he could also cum in a kid’s mouth without even touching his dick.
 
I don’t think my son got to enjoy the Milky Way much, because his lips were quickly plugged up and his mouth was swiftly filled with cum. He coughed and sputtered as he ingested the evil spider’s cock slop, then embarrassingly spit up both the cum and the chocolate in his mouth.
 
The video ended with a close up of my only child, his burned anus still winking, covered in the cock snot of some total stranger, but he did have chocolate all over his face, so I suppose he was enjoying Halloween as any child would.
 
I enjoyed the video immensely.
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