---
title: '6'
pp_protect: '0'
---

## Part 6 

I laughed at my nephew's joke in between pants. My head was still spinning
from that orgasm and the site before me--my own sweet little nephew,
covered in buckets of my cum. It was by far the most intense edging session
I'd ever had--how had the boy picked up such mad handjob skills in just a
few days?

I pondered this for a bit as I watched him continue to gently explore my
softening cock. Nothing about the scenario made sense to my post-orgasm
mind. Why was this activity, draining my balls, so natural to him? Why
didn't he find an hour-long session with just my cock between his hands
absurdly boring? This was a kid who could barely sit through a half-hour TV
show. Why was the tube of flesh thrusting out from my pelvis so much more
entertaining to him?

Why wasn't the copious amount of sperm I shot at him alarming, or
terrifying, or at least strange to him? Why was he instead playfully
tracing circles in the pools of jizz on my hairy stomach?

Was it because I had basically brainwashed the kid? Had my words and the
poppers really convinced him that my cock was his God? Was he just that
devout?

Was it because I was his uncle? Because he trusted me and loved me? Because
he looked up to me and liked making me feel good?

Or was it something else? Something natural about the boy... I'd heard
rumours of such things. Of boys just having a natural propensity toward a
life of cock. Could my goodie-two-shoes nephew really boy one of those
types of boy sluts?

I could have pondered that for a long time, but I was starting to feel
uncomfortable. The kid was a natural when it came to edging, but he clearly
didn't yet understand how sensitive a cock was after shooting a load like
that. He was still rubbing it and tugging on it, not as hard as he had been
earlier when teasing me, but with enough gumption to drive me a little
crazy. Not to mention, my hands had been tied behind my back for an
hour. It was still pouring rain outside, but I could at least get up and
clean us both up, maybe start a fire if I could figure out how to put up
the flap on the front of the tent without getting everything wet.

"Ok, kiddo, that's enough. God needs a nap now. Come on and untie me, ok?"

My nephew started to get up, but then I watched as his eyes darted to the
bottle of poppers that lay discarded by my hip.

"I think that's enough," I said, recognizing the hunger in my eyes.

My nephew looked up at me, then back to the bottle, then to my spent,
drooling cock. Then back up to my eyes one last time, but there was
something new in his eyes. A look I didn't recognize--and one I didn't
like. It was almost like a dim, distant fire was in his eyes. A stare that
was part mischevious, and part zoned out.

"Come on, bud," I said, feeling a little weirded out. "Up ya go."

He said nothing, but instead reached for the bottle of poppers.

"Hey!" I admonished him as I watched him ignore me, take a very long hit of
poppers in each nostril, and then turn, silently, back to my cock. He
climbed over my leg so he was back between them again.

I yelped as he grabbed my cock with both hands. The thing was still so
sensitive from the edging session.

"Wh-what are you doing, boy?" I said, trying to sound stern through the
gasps of semi-pain as he began to stroke my cock again. "Stop that. I said
enough. Now come untie me."

My nephew didn't answer, though he did look up at me. He locked eyes with
me and began stroking me harder, faster, with urgency, using both hands.

"I... I can't, buddy. I'm sorry," I said.

Again he said nothing, just stared at me and stroked me.

"It doesn't work like that..." I said, starting to sound a bit panicked. "I
need a rest, ok?"

"No rest..." he said quietly. Then he dragged his eyes away from me and
really began stroking me.

I continued to moan and complain, but it was no use. I struggled against
the ropes, but somehow, he'd done a great job dying me up. I had no choice
- soon enough, my cock reversed motion and went from softening to growing
hard again, still glistening and slippery from the cum.

"Please..." I said... "No more..."

My nephew mumbled something I couldn't hear as he continued to stroke me
with one hand, while his other gooey hand reached for the poppers bottle
and opened it. He took another big hit, and then, still ignoring my
protests, reached up so that the bottle was under my own nose. I had no
choice but to inhale steadily for a while until he pulled the bottle away.

Suddenly, the stroking wasn't quite so bad. Still intense and distressful,
but my cock was getting back into it. It wasn't that crazy, after
all. Sometimes when I edged myself, I found myself ready to jerk off again
a few minutes later. It was like I needed to finish off the load because
I'd worked myself up again.

That's what this situation turned into. The boy continued to stroke me,
moving faster, using my own cum as lube, until finally...

"FUCK!" I shouted out. "HERE IT COMES!"

"Yessss..." I heard him his as my cock exploded again. It was another crazy
load. Not nearly as insane as the edged one, of course, but considering
that it had been under 10 minutes since my last orgasm, the volume and
number of ropes of my white, creamy baby batter was impressive.

I could tell my nephew was, once again, impressed as well. This time, he
sat back, watching me explode from about a foot away. One of his hands
gripped the base of my cock as it exploded. The other was gripping the
bottle tightly as he held it up to his nose, breathing deeply over and over
for at least 20 seconds as I rode out my orgasm.

"Wow, buddy," I said, gasping for air. "Impressive. You got two out of me!"

My nephew again said nothing. He just stared up at me as he moved the
bottle of poppers to the other nostril and inhaled just as deeply.

"Buddy?" I said, quietly. I was starting to get freaked out. The look in
his eyes was so unnatural for him. The sweet little boy I'd brought on this
camping trip with me was gone, replaced with some poppered-up cock
pig. Just looking in his eyes, I knew what would come next.

My heart sank. I wasn't going to be untied. I wasn't going to be
released. I was going to...

"More." My nephew said this word a few more times as he moved up and gave
me another giant hit. I tried to protest, shaking my head, but he was
forceful, and soon enough, I was high as a kite again as the boy moved back
to my swollen, red, floppy cock and began to slap it back to life.

"More, more," he'd chanted. I could see he'd left the poppers bottle open
now, letting the chemicals mix heavily in the cum-scented air. "More."

"No more, no more," I whined, but I was feeling defeated. The poppers was
overwhelming me, and I could barely do anything but focus on how sensitive
my cock was in his skilled little hands.

It took a while, but soon, once again, he had me hard. This time the
erection was a dull hardness to me--not the throbbing, excited cock from my
edge session, but something much angrier and jaded. As my nephew forced me
along to my third orgasm, my cock took on the demeanor of a grizzled army
veteran forced onto his third tour of duty.

This time, I didn't give him any warning. I was getting angry at him, and
didn't want to make him think I was enjoying this. Sadly, he didn't seem to
mind when my cock started spasming in his hands. This time it was what I
would call a "normal" (for me) load. THis one didn't shoot much past my
already filled navel. After five decent spurts, my cock resigned to just
dribbling.

If the decreased load bothered my nephew at all, he didn't show it. This
time, he didn't even put up a pretense of stopping. He just kept jerking,
even as my orgasm was still going on, not letting up even for a second. He
did skillfully manage to sniff the poppers again, and gave me another big
hit right after.

I, too, gave up my pretense of trying to convince him to stop. It was clear
to me--frighteningly clear--that I had lost control of this situation. The
poppers, the edging, the god talk, all of it had unleashed something
unnamed in the kid, and there was no way to escape it. For all I knew, this
was how I'd die--milked to death by my own nephew in the woods. It truly
began to feel like a horror story.

Of course, it didn't end that way. He did, eventually snap out of it. But
it took three more orgasms, for a total of five. The only breaks I got were
after an orgasm when I was forced by my nephew to huff for my life. Pure
hell.

Orgasm number three was the last one that really could be called
"shooting". By the time he worked it out of me, there were really only two
spurts, and the rest just dribbled from my cock head lazily.

After this, it took a decent effort to get me hard again. My nephew seemed
distressed by this, taking a few extra long hits as he pondered this snare
in his plan. Poppers somehow made him smarter, because soon enough he
figured out that a decent ball-job and a prayer that was mostly filthy talk
would do the trick.

"Please, God" he said around a mouthful of my nutsack. "Don't abandon me, O
God. I need more. More cum. Please, you are my life. Give me that
cock. Give me that cum, PLEASE!"

That fourth orgasm was by far the most pathetic one of my life, but once
again, my nephew didn't seem distressed that my orgasm was just a few drops
of semi-clear cum from my pained cock.

After this one, when he got the poppers bottle again, I simply sighed out,
"No, please." He ignored me entirely, giving me my next giant hit. There
was, somehow, finality to it--perhaps he coudl sense that there was only
one more load possible. Who knows?

The time, though, the ball job didn't do the trick. My cock had given in,
refusing to grow from it's soft, swollen state. My nephew tried a few
tactics, even sucking my dick a bit, but it didn't work.

Finally, he turned his eyes up to mine. "Help," he said.

I shook my head. No way was I going to encourage this. My cock and balls
were beyond sore, and I coudln't feel my own hands anymore. I wanted out of
this hell.

"Please, Uncle," he said. There were actual tears in his bloodshot
eyes. What a ham. "Please, God," he said, still staring at me. Did he think
of me as the God? Or the keeper of the God cock? I doubt even he knew, but
this time, he was definitely praying into my eyes.

"Please, God," he said. "Show me the way. Show me the light. I know you
know, Uncle-God. I know you know the secret to the last load. Please, show
me, and I'll forever be your servant. Please!"

God, the kid had picked up some freaky prayer language from his years at
church. Maybe it really was divine in some way, because I began to feel
almost out of my body as he gave me another hit of poppers. Slowly, I began
to lift up my knees and legs, pulling them back until my ass was there,
right in front of the kid. Then, without even really being conscious of the
words, I said...

"Suck my butthole." Don't ask me where that came from.

I can only imagine what my nephew saw at that moment, but I'm sure it was
shocking. This was truly a part of my anatomy I'm certain he'd never
considered. Hell, he didn't even know about butt sex. Though I'm sure he
knew what functions my hole usual served. Would that turn him off, make him
lose his god? Would the information that he had to suckle on his dear
Uncle's sphincter to get that last load make him lose his faith?

I watched my nephew screw up his face, first in disgust, and then he
swallowed that expression as he reached for the poppers. After his two
longest hits yet, my nephew did t...

It seconds after he screwed on the bottle cap, he was up in my ass like a
fly on shit. There were no tentative little kitten-licks, no
testing-the-water kisses. His poppered up brain was too far gone for
that. He began munching on that hairy hole like his life depended on it.

He was snorting like a pig, and I was moaning like there was no
tomorrow. It felt so good having him tongue-punch my fart box that I barely
noticed as he reached up and began to simultaneously bring my cock back to
life.

I'll admit it, I didn't think it was possible, but I managed to do what any
man would do when his nephew was sucking on his poop-chute. I squeezed out
one final load.

Well, "load" isn't really the right word. What came out of me was little
more than air, as I throbbed my way through my first dry-orgasm since I was
a teenager. I was nearly crying as it rolled through me, until finally, it
stopped.

And just like that, my nephew returned to me. The look in his eyes--the one
that frightened me--was gone, replaced once again by the sweet, innocent
boy I knew. That innocent boy gave my cock one more shake, and then, just
as if he'd been paying with his legos, said, "All done!" in a cheerful
voice.

I lay there unable to speak as I felt him reach behind me and untie me. As
I felt him loosen the ropes, I noticed the rain outside had stopped.