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After the Rain

Summary:

A man finds a six year old boy in a bathroom stall, unconscious, naked, bound, and freshly raped. He can't resist doing the same to him.

Notes:

Alright, my readers know the drill already, but to be clear: do not engage with angry trolls in the comments. Many of them are genuinely so mentally ill that they have lost the capacity to distinguish fiction from reality, and believe depiction is synonymous with endorsement. And what you need to remember is that that hurts like Hell. They're in a lot of pain, have a lot of anxiety and a lot of panic. You don't know what that's like. As tempting as it is to be snarky or rude to these commenters, I want you to pause and remember your very worst mental health episode. Now I want you to ask yourself how you would have liked to have been treated during that time. Apply that same level of courtesy to these people. Being hurtful to someone who's already hurting will not solve anything. You have to remember that on the other side of that keyboard is a person who is going through a lot, not an NPC.

Comments by people who are too unwell not to avoid reading clearly marked Dead Dove will be deleted. On AO3, authors are allowed to moderate comments on their work. While this may upset some of you, this is done for two reasons. The first is to discourage you from continuing to read things you know will trigger you, as that is digital self-harm, and I am not here to support your self-harm. The second is that, as I know fiction is not reality, I am not going to be swayed or impacted by your expressions of your distress. Your distress being real does not mean it is my job to tend to it and address it. I would suggest instead of wasting both your time and mine, you try engaging in something that does not distress you. (Ideally, I would hope you engage with something that makes you happy.)

Reading is a consensual experience. You can revoke your consent at any time by clicking the back button or by putting down the text. If you are not capable of disengaging with written media that disturbs you, it is your responsibility to only engage with media that has been appropriately tagged or curated for your triggers.

You either have a healthy relationship with fiction and an understanding of the difference between thought or intent, which is the default assumption until proven otherwise, or you are one of the people going so far out of their way to prove otherwise that you are willing to make yourself miserable in an attempt to force your views on others.

If you need genuinely creators to spoon feed you everything, including which actions fictional or otherwise are obviously bad and wrong and shouldn't be replicated irl, then that speaks more to your own morality than it does anybody else's.

Work Text:

It was a rainy summer night when Flint found the boy at a rest stop.

The rest stop was a newer one, with individual stalls with floor-to-ceiling doors and sides. Flint understood that sort of thing was common in Europe, but he'd never really considered the idea of how those things could conceal something until he opened a stall door and found himself staring down at a naked black boy no more than five or six years old. The boy was on the ground, gagged and blindfolded, his arms tied behind his back with duct tape. His rich umber skin was coated in cold sweat. Though he breathed, he was obviously unconscious, or he would've reacted to the door opening.

Flint stepped into the stall and locked the door behind him. In front of him, the boy on the floor didn't move, completely spent. His dick was small and adorable, as all little boys' dicks were, but the more interesting component of the night lay behind him. Carefully, Flint stepped over the child to survey the damages. The six year old boy's asshole was gaping, fucked wide open long before Flint arrived here, and it was oozing cum. There was so much cum in a puddle underneath the boy that Flint had no doubt that at least two men had fucked the child's ass, if not three.

Though he'd tried not to perv on any kids in person, it was impossible not to be turned on by that knowledge. This small, tender boy, his hair in two braids, skin visibly soft and smooth, had been raped repeatedly. It was written in the way the boy's asshole gaped, in the cum puddle underneath him, in the way his little cock was still half-hard. Flint felt his cock come to life as he imagined two men brutalizing this thin, prepubescent boy, stretching his tight, dark brown hole wider and wider until it was like this. He stepped closer, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the slack, sticky ring of the boy's anus, feeling the warmth of his insides. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The sight of his pale finger against the place that dark skin met pink flesh had him getting hard despite his best efforts.

He wished he could've been here to see it happen, to see two grown men subdue and use this delicate creature for their own twisted pleasure. Oh, if only he could've been there to hear the pained sounds the boy made as his ass was first penetrated, to watch those tight little cheeks clench and struggle, only to be fucked into submission. Underneath a man, having his ass used - that was where a pretty boy like this belonged, he felt, even if another part of him felt horrified. Flint felt his heart racing, his breathing shallow, as he took in the full view of the child's destroyed anus, the way it pulsed and quivered slightly with every beat of the boy's heart. 

It was a grim sight, but oh so beautiful in its obscenity. This boy was maybe six, if that, and two men had shot their loads deep inside his once virgin ass. Flint touched the semen briefly, unsurprised to find that it was cooled off by now. They had used that ass, came inside it, then left him behind, like a dirty napkin. He wondered if they had used any lube. It didn't look like it from the rawness around the hole, the way it was red and swollen. The boy's tight, tiny anus was a stark contrast to the thick, white paste of the men's cum, which had little swirls of rusty red in it. They'd made him bleed as they raped him. The thought of the child's suffering only made his cock throb harder.

Flint knew that fucking kids in real life was dangerous. People went to prison for that. It would be the wisest thing to simply leave, to turn away and let someone else deal with this kid. But fuck, this kid, with his half-hard, petite cock, his gaping hole and his small, pert ass, fuck. Who could pass up an opportunity like this? Could anyone? He reached over and pushed two fingers into the little boy's ass, experimentally, just to see if he could. They slipped in without a fight, the little boy loosened by multiple rounds of hard fucking by two grown men's thick pedo cocks. Flint could just imagine them plowing the boy, their hands wrapped around the small waist, pulling him back onto them, forcing their dicks deep into that tight, clenching heat. He had to hold his breath to keep from making a sound.

He knew he shouldn't, but he had to try that ass out for himself. Flint had always wanted to fuck a little boy. At age forty, he was afraid his time was running out. Now he was alone with a sexy, prefucked, prestretched six year old with a half-erect dick, and a sphincter that was begging for more abuse. His own cock was fully erect now, throbbing with excitement at the prospect. He pulled out his cock, a thick, nine inches of rock-hard flesh that was already leaking precum. He'd always had a thing for kids, boys especially, but never an opportunity to be alone with one until today. The boy lay motionless as Flint stroked his dick, preparing to take advantage of the situation.

Even with how stretched the child was, as he pushed his cock into that cum-filled hole, Flint could feel the boy's body trying to resist. It was a tight fit, the boy's asshole gripping him like a vice, but the years of fantasizing had made him determined. He didn't bother to prep the child, didn't bother to get his own dick wet with anything but his saliva. The only sounds were his own heavy breathing and the squelching noise of his cock sliding through the thick mess of semen and blood. As he gazed at the passed out child, Flint bit back a moan, gritting his teeth as he thrust deep down into the six year old's heavily used asshole.

Although he'd always imagined fucking a child would feel good, nothing in his life prepared him for just how good it felt to bury his cock in a little boy's tight, wet ass, even if it was one that had been used by two other men before him. The sensation was so intense, so taboo, that he couldn't help but let out a low groan as he pushed into the child's body, feeling the warm, sticky mess of cum and blood coat him, welcoming his cock deeper and deeper. Flint didn't stop until he'd bottomed out inside the unwilling boyslut, balls-deep in the six year old's asshole. He gazed down at where his massive cock was being clenched onto by the boy's body, and he felt his entire body quiver with the urge to just start pumping away.

"You're so tight, little boy," he murmured, his voice hoarse with lust. "But you're gonna get used to me, aren't you?" 

He didn't expect an answer, but the thought of the boy learning to take his cock was too much for him. Flint began to thrust into that wet hole, his hips moving in slow, deliberate motions that made the child's body jerk and tremble. The boy's tiny asshole was stretched to the limits around his thick cock, the delicate skin shimmering with the slick mixture of fluids. Flint could feel every pulse of the child's heart in the tightness of that hole, the way it was trying to keep him out, but failing. The unconscious black boy's dick was getting harder the longer Flint slowly fucked him from this angle, so he kept going, pushing in and pulling out, his mind racing at the idea of seeing a six year old get hard for him. Just the idea of a little boy with a boner for him had the man's hips moving a little faster.

The unwilling boy got hard as Flint raped his asshole from behind. Flint stopped periodically to check, and was pleased to see it at full attention, despite the traumatic ordeal the child had endured. This was no ordinary kid. This was a rare kind of slut, a boywhore, and he was the luckiest man alive to encounter one like this, pre-subdued and pre-fucked, ready to use. 

"Look at you," Flint murmured, stroking the little cock with a trembling hand. "You're loving it, aren't you?"

He felt the boy first begin to stir, then, but that didn't change anything for him. He kept raping the slutty little boy's asshole, not caring if the kid woke up or not. If he did, well, he was still gagged and blindfolded, his arms still bound behind him. There was nothing the six year old could do except take Flint's big cock right up his tight ass, which was exactly what he was made for. Flint maintained a steady pace as the boy's stirring movements became more regular. The idea of a little boy waking up to find himself being raped by a stranger in a rest stop bathroom was deeply appealing, and the man was eager to see it play out as he violated the cute little thing.

The boy initially panicked, squirming wonderfully, the motions translating to incredible sensations for his rapist's dick. As he tried to kick and twist, the child's tender asshole clenched around Flint's cock, massaging it as he fought. It was like a warm, wet fist trying to milk him, and he was loving it. He tightened his grip on the boy's small hips, holding him still as he began to fuck him harder. The child's whimpers were muffled by the gag, but the desperate sounds turned him on even more. His own cock had never felt this hard or this ready before. It was as if the past forty years of Flint's life were spent daydreaming, and now he was truly living, pounding into this tight, filthy boyhole.

Flint held onto the unwilling child, feeling his cock throb as the boy's body continued to resist. The sound of the gag muffling his cries was so hot that instead of deterring him in the slightest, only made his need to claim that tight little asshole more urgent. If anything, Flint wished he were younger so he could fuck the boyslut harder and more brutally, for longer. There was nowhere he'd rather be than inside this terrified six year old. He could feel the boy's ass muscles spasming around him, trying to push him out, but his grip was too firm, his cock too deep, and the child was too weak from his previous encounters to fight back effectively. He watched in perverse fascination as the boy's body reacted to his touch, betrayed by his own cute boycock.

Groaning, the man fucked down into that spot that made the boy's dick twitch, feeling the warmth of his insides, feeling the tightness of that hole clinging to him, begging for more, even as the child's body fought against the intrusion. It was a delicious struggle, one that had Flint's pedophilia kicked into overdrive. This sexy black boy with his hairless body and babyish face was hard for him, the kid was a natural, he wanted it, he needed it, and now he was going to get it, right from a pedophile's big, hard cock. Flint picked up his pace, driving into the child with a passion that had been building for decades.

Knowing the boy was such a whore that two men raping him before hadn't been enough to satisfy him, Flint did his best to be rough and deep with it, making sure to hit that sweet spot inside the tight, abused asshole that would make any little slut squirm. He could feel the boy's prostate swollen and bruised, knew he'd make it worse, yet the way it made his cock jerk and throb was worth it. The six year old's cries grew louder, more frantic, but all Flint could focus on was the incredible sensation of his cock sliding in and out of that tight, wet, used hole. The warmth, the pressure, the way it felt like it was made just for him. He'd never felt anything so perfect. Fucking this six year old was like a revelation, like Flint finally understood his place in the world: here, raping this boy, hard.

He pounded him with a ruthlessness borne of knowing he only had one chance to rape the boywhore. Grunting, he battered the abused boy's prostate, watching the cute little cock pulse and twitch with every thrust. The child's asshole was tightening around his dick, trying to keep him out, but it was too late for that. The boy had been raped hard by two others, two men who understood what Flint did, that this precious piece of ass needed to be fucked. This six year old was made to take cock, to take pedo cock and let the men shoot their thick loads into him. He existed to serve their sexual needs, and Flint felt no regret as he continued to thrust deep into that warm, clinging hole.

The boy was sobbing now, pained, violated sounds tearing out of him as he was raped. Every single sound was the hottest thing Flint had ever heard, and he loved each one. They spurred him on to be even rougher, to show this little boyslut just what it meant to be used by a real man. He leaned down, whispering filthy words into the child's ear, feeling his own orgasm building as the whore's cries grew more desperate.

"Every man you'll ever meet is going to want to rape you, everywhere you go," he told the fuckhole, grinning. "Your teachers, your friends' dads, even your own dad, deep down, wants to rape you. They want to fuck," the man smacked the boy's ass for emphasis, "this tight, slutty," he slapped the other ass cheek, "ass! You're a fucktoy! You're a living fucktoy! I'm going to fill you up with my cum! Take my cum right in your whorehole, you bitch! Fucking boyslut! Fuck! Fuck!"

His orgasm hit like a tornado, violent and devastating for the poor soul trapped under him, yet heavenly for the monster claiming the boy's asshole as his own. Flint's cock erupted deep inside the six year old, filling the abused cavity with his hot, sticky cum. He groaned in ecstasy, feeling his load mix with that of the other men who had used the boyslut, marking him as a sex toy. The little boy's body tensed and jerked with the brutal intrusion, the gag stifling any sound that might have been heard outside the stall. Flint kept thrusting through the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure to force out every last drop of cum into the unwilling bitch's newly full hole. Even as he caught his breath, every thought obliterated by the best orgasm he'd ever had, he was reveling in having his dick buried balls-deep in a helpless fucktoy boy who couldn't even move, who had to take his pedo cock deep and hard.

Only when he'd caught his breath did he gradually pull out, his cock sliding out of the gaping hole with a wet pop that sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He stepped back, taking in the sight of the black boy's asshole, now leaking his cum and that of his predecessors. The little whore's body was trembling, whether from fear or the overwhelming sensation of having three loads of cum in his bowels, Flint didn't know. He didn't really care. All he knew was that he needed more. He needed to fuck this six year old slut again and again, forever if possible.

After checking to make sure no one else was around to see, Flint put the boy in the trunk of his car. He went back into the bathroom, cleaned up the mess, peed, pooped, and came out to find the rain had stopped. The world smelled fresh, promising a new day, a new life, ahead of him. Feeling truly content with his life for the first time in decades, he got behind the wheel, turned on the radio, and let the beauty of it all wash over him. All his problems were over. He'd never be tempted by other kids, not now that he had his own boyslut to pound whenever he wanted. The six year old would take his pedo cock whenever he wanted, and just the knowledge that he had the option seemed to make the world, even at night, brighter.

As his mother would say, after the rain came the rainbow.