Bryce's Unnatural Life Chapter 1
This story details the early sexual experiences of a young boy named Bryce, as told by him. I originally published this series on the now defunct ASSTR. I have had numerous requests to repost since it is no longer available on that site. This is (eventually) a love story between 2 pre-pubescent boys. It is a series with a number of chapters that touch on many topics, including M/b, t/b, b/b, incest, ws, and scat, although not every chapter will include all topics. If you are offended by any of these topics, or if the discussion of sexual acts involving minors is not your bag, please stop reading now. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy my writings. Feedback is welcome at brycewriter@gmail.com
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Bryce's Unnatural Life Chapter 1
Everything about my early sexual experiences was wrong. Wrong in the sense that no little boy should have to be subject to such unnatural wickedness, especially when you are too young to even understand the differences. When being used for other people's obscene pleasure is so prominent in your life that it just seems natural at the time. Only later do you realize how screwed up everything really was.
My mother had left when I was a baby and so it was just my dad and me. We lived in a rather plain house in a middle class neighborhood. Dad was pretty much a con man, living from scheme to scheme. It is a wonder he was never arrested for something, but I guess he was always one step ahead. He's not a bad looking guy, light brown hair, around six foot tall and a medium build. Relatively little body hair and not much in the meat department, about six inches completely stiff and more slender than thick. I guess that was a good thing for me as time would tell. When I was young, my dad didn't date much, just an occasional fling here and there. That didn't mean he wasn't getting any, just not in the normal sense. Unless of course you consider molesting young boys a normal course of sexuality, but I am getting ahead of myself.
I am Bryce. When I was growing up, I had dirty blond hair, with a naturally loose curl to it. Brown eyes, smooth features, cute I guess. As for my other physical attributes, I was pretty "normal". Average build, but slightly smaller than most other kids my age. Not really muscular, but not a weakling either, just average. I wasn't shy per se, but had much more of a passive personality, not aggressive at all.
The best I can recall, it started when I was around four years old. I used to climb into my father's bed at night when I would have a bad dream. He would lift up the sheet and allow me to climb in, then would spoon in behind me. I never associated his rubbing himself against my backside or bottom as anything unusual, just assumed he was snuggling. The rubbing would start out slow, then build up a little at a time until he was thrusting against me, squeezing tight around my chest. The stiff thing poking me in the back, or sometimes in the cleft of my underwear covered bottom, was at first a mystery to me. Of course I later realized it was his excited cock, building up to an orgasm as his thrusts became jerky and his breathing quickened. When he would stiffen, his breathing becoming a ragged series of "oohs" and "ahh's", he would grab me even tighter and mash his groin against me. I would then feel the warm wetness of his orgasm sloshing up onto my back. After a few more jerky thrusts he would wipe me up, then roll over and go to sleep.
Similar occurrences took place a number of times over the next several years. As time went on they became more and more frequent, and he even began seeking me out most nights to join him in his bed. As I got older, he got bolder and he began sliding my underwear down and thrusting himself in between my plump little butt cheeks, getting his nut from the smoothness of the cleft of my behind. It was during this period that he also started using his hand on my little peepee while he rubbed against me. I would get stiff as a nail as his hand rubbed and squeezed my bald little groin. Then he would grunt, get his relief, clean me off and the fun was over.
When I was around eight years old, my father's brother's family moved to town and an older cousin, Bobby, started coming over to babysit during the summer. It became fairly routine for him to stay with us and for a while, practically lived with us, acting as a live-in babysitter and companion for me. He was fun to be with and always treated me nice. It was around this time that the nighttime sessions with dad stopped. He stopped coming to get me at night and I assumed at the time that he didn't want Bobby to see us doing those things, never imagining, at the time anyway, that dad had found someone else to use for his relief.
Bobby would have been almost twelve at the time, had a slight build, short, thick blond hair and blue eyes and, thinking back, was a pretty handsome lad. When he would spend the night, we would usually sleep together in the same twin bed in my room, and it didn't take long until we were play-grabbing at each others peepee's at bedtime. Bobby initiated the play the second or third night we were together. Laying on our backs in the dark, I could see Bobby's hand was stuffed down the front of his underwear and he was moving it back and forth. I asked him what he was doing and he stopped suddenly and pulled his hand out. Very gently he grabbed my hand and dragged it across his chest and thrust it into his undies. Instinctively, I grabbed onto his very stiff peepee.
Bobby was not really big (must be a family trait) and my fingers easily went completely around the throbbing prong. I noticed right away that it was a little damp and, not really sticky, but just slightly moist. Bobby spoke in a hushed tone "Rub it up and down, it feels good" and as he finished speaking, his slid his underpants down to his thighs. Flashbacks of my own experiences with dad when he would rub me gave me a sense of what I needed to do. So I tightened my grip and began jerking the stiff peepee, imitating my father's past manipulations of my own stiffness. It was no more than four or five yanks before Bobby cried out, his hips jerking straight up and three powerful squirts of clear liquid shot out the end of his peepee like a jet, landing clear up by his neck and chest. A few more dribbles of the liquid ran over my pumping fist.
When his hips collapsed back on the bed, I looked at the runny mess and asked Bobby what the heck that was all about. Within a few minutes, he had explained about "cum", where it came from, what it was for and when I would eventually be able to make some. Bingo! The light bulb went on and I now realized what the warm, wet mess that my dad made on my back and between my butt cheeks was about.
As Bobby cleaned his chest with a napkin, I stared at the stuff on my hand. "Taste it" Bobby encouraged, taking a finger full off his chest and popping it into his mouth. Although a little hesitant, I licked at some of the stuff on my hand. It had a sweet flavor to it (again, not realizing at the time that Bobby was just at the beginning of his cum producing capabilities when most of what he was producing was just the liquid discharge, not the thicker, saltier version that would come later) and was not at all offensive, so I finished cleaning myself with my hand.
After that first experience, Bobby and I would practice repeat sessions each time he stayed over. He did gain some staying power though and would take much longer on subsequent nights before he would squirt his juice. Afterwards, while Bobby wiped up, I would lick the gooey mess from my hand and we were done. I never mentioned how dad used to rub my peepee and Bobby never took the initiative of returning the favor, so things were pretty much one sided.
About two weeks after he started staying with us, I awoke up in the middle of the night and realized Bobby was missing from my bed. Toddling down the hall I went looking for him. I was surprised that he was in my dad's bed, the two of then cuddled up and sleeping soundly. I was a bit jealous when I made this discovery and asked Bobby about it the next day. He shrugged and told me that he was keeping my dad company.
Well a couple nights later, I was awakened by the sound of my father's voice. I could hear him whispering to Bobby, who was laying next to me, to "come on" and then felt Bobby sliding out of the bed. I peeked just long enough to see Bobby and my dad walking from the room and down the hall. Now I was really jealous and after steaming on my bed for five minutes or so, decided to sneak down to see what they were doing. Tip toeing down the hallway, I came upon the open door of my father's room. The relative darkness of the hallway afforded me protection from discovery as I stared, wide eyed, at the sight before me.
My father was naked, laying on his back on the bed, his upper body propped against the headboard. Bobby was laying on the bed also, face down between my father's legs. My dads eyes were closed, a dreamy look on his face, as his hands were running through the blond hair on Bobby's head, which was bobbing up and down between dads spread legs. Bobby's own skinny legs were bent at the knees and were dancing back and forth in the air and there was a loud slurping sound coming from my father's groin.
"Oh yes, oh yes" I heard my father proclaim and his grip on Bobby's head seemed to tighten. Dad's legs started shaking a little and I heard a "mmph" sound coming from Bobby, whose own legs now lay flat on the bed behind him. "Get ready to swallow baby" I heard my father mutter just as his hips started to rise from the bed and he pushed Bobby's head tighter against his groin. Just then Bobby's head turned just enough that I could see that my father's peepee was in his mouth. Bobby was sucking on my father's peepee and it did look like he was swallowing something, his throat muscles bobbing up and down. His eyes were really wide and it looked like he was struggling against the hands that were holding his head in place.
It's kinda weird, but, aside from the wild look in Bobby's eyes, which were now staring straight into mine, I can strangely recall his legs and butt as they shifted back and forth on the bed, squirming almost. I noticed two things that even today stand out in my mind. The first was the bottoms of Bobby's feet. He had cute feet, but I noticed that the soles were dirty. Not filthy dirty, but for some reason I remember thinking, as I watched his toes curling and uncurling, that his feet were dirty. The second thing was his underwear. As he twisted his head to the side, presumably to get some air as the peepee in his mouth was lodged pretty deep, his own hips raised from the bed, causing his butt to push tight against his white underwear. That was when I saw a round, brown stain, right in the bottom of his undies. Now I knew what skid marks were, I was eight years old and had experienced plenty of them myself. What was intriguing to me was that this didn't look like a normal, "whoops" I didn't wipe well enough skid mark. It was, well, bigger than that, more round than straight and different somehow and it was made very prominent by the fact that, as I said, Bobby's butt was raised up and pushed back tight against the underpants.
Grunting noises startled me back to the reality of the moment. My father was grunting, much like the sounds that I would hear in my ear as he rubbed himself against my butt. I could see that he had loosened his grip on Bobby's hair and Bobby had twisted his head back towards my father as he continued making slurping, sucking, swallowing sounds. My experiences of rubbing Bobby's peepee the past few days provided enough for me to realize that Bobby was swallowing down my father's "cum", much like I had licked Bobby's "cum" off my own hand after each of our little play sessions.
Turning back towards my room, I returned to my own bed. I lay there for quite a while, trying to sort out what I had just witnessed, and just as I was drifting off to sleep, felt Bobby sliding back into bed with me. He laid there for a few minutes, not making a sound but I could see that his hand was in his underwear, and he was rubbing himself. His whispered voice broke the silence. "I saw you watching" he said. "Huh?" I replied, not really sure what to do or say. "I saw you standing in the hallway watching us. I know you saw what we were doing" he whispered back. I still wasn't sure what to say. I mean I did see what they were doing but it was still kind of foreign to me. Bobby had been sucking on my dad's peepee and apparently had swallowed down his "cum" but it still wasn't all clicking in my eight year old mind.
Not knowing what else to do, I asked, rather timidly, "Would you like for me to rub it for you?" Bobby didn't speak, he just shook his head no as he turned onto his side to face me. He pulled his hand out of his underwear and then slid them straight down, almost to his knees. Reaching over, he grabbed me by the head and pulled me down toward his groin. When my face was flush against his stiffness, he whispered "open your mouth". When I did, fully aware of what was going to happen, he pulled my head tighter and slid his peepee right into my mouth. "Suck it" he demanded in a husky whisper.
Now, this too was still a mystery to me, having just witnessed my first ever blowjob a few minutes earlier. Heck I didn't even know it was called a blowjob at the time. That notwithstanding, and having no other reason not to, I did what I was told and began to suck and I noticed a few things right away. The taste was the first thing. It tasted kind of salty, not really strong, but definitely what I would describe as a "pissy" flavor. I wasn't really surprised, after all, piss did come out of the thing in my mouth. The next thing I noticed was the smoothness of the texture of Bobby's peepee. As I said before, it wasn't very large, especially considering he was just turning twelve years old at the time, and it fit nicely in my mouth. The head and the shaft were both remarkably smooth, much like the groin I was staring at as Bobby's hands continued gripping tightly on my head.
As I was sucking, still acutely aware of how smooth this probe was, Bobby began pulling my head to and fro, sliding my mouth back and forth on his peepee. My lack of experience trying to suck at the same time this probe was sliding back and forth became apparent when Bobby stopped the movements of my head, and, still whispering, said "watch your teeth". I tried to reshape my mouth in more of an "o" pattern to better accommodate the foreign occupant and he resumed the jerks of my head as I resumed the sucking. My inaugural blowjob didn't last too long so I suppose my efforts were sufficient. Bobby's grip on my head tightened as his back and forth motions became a little more frantic and he began a low "ah, ah, ah" chant just before pulling my face tightly to his groin, his body stiffening.
At that same moment, with Bobby's peepee lodged well within my mouth, my nose crushed against his bald pelvic region, he began shooting the now familiar squirts of "cum" directly into my mouth. No need to lick it off my hand or clean his chest with a napkin this time, it was headed right for my throat. Bobby, his "ah, ah, ah" noises starting to die down, uttered one more comment. Mimicking what I had heard my own father demanding just a few minutes earlier, Bobby told me "Swallow baby, swallow it". Since it was shooting back into my throat and there was literally no place else for it to go, I did swallow, the only thing I could think to do at the time.
After three or four spurts had jettisoned into my mouth and I swallowed them down, Bobby's grip on my head was completely released and I lay there gently sucking as the last few dribbles of his juice squirted onto my tongue. His peepee was softening in my mouth and so I lifted my head and looked at Bobby, who had his head back, his eyes closed and a look of pure contentment on his face. After a moment or two, still somewhat shell shocked by all of what was happening, I looked down at Bobby's now shriveled peepee, shiny with saliva, my saliva, and swallowed again, this time fully aware of the foreign flavors that lingered in my mouth. This hadn't been a few dribbles from my hand, it had been the full discharge and it left an aftertaste Not unpleasant mind you, but still a very distinct taste that remained in my mouth.
I looked back at Bobby, who had by now opened his eyes and was looking at me. "Would you please lick my balls for me?" he asked as a smile broke out on his face. I thought about it for a moment, then figured it couldn't be any worse than sucking his peepee, so I leaned down and began licking, literally, the smooth, wrinkled sack between his legs. After a few seconds, he stopped me, then shifted a little, allowing his underwear to slide further down his legs and then kicked them aside. As he did so, I again noticed that brown mark in the seat of his undies. I still cannot explain why, but it really intrigued me. I had a funny feeling that it was a sign of something unnatural, but at that point wasn't able to connect it to anything other than an unusual oddity.
After he lost the underpants, Bobby was able to shift his legs open and I resumed the licking of his ballsack. It wasn't very large, and after a few more swipes of the tongue, I decided to try sucking instead and pulled the sack, along with both balls, into my mouth. More of those "pissy" flavors were now in my mouth, although they did little to wash away the aftertaste of "cum" that was still present. Bobby had laid his head back again and was moaning a little as I sucked the sack, then used my tongue to lick down beneath and around the sides of his groin area.
The next thing I remember, literally, is waking up that next morning, Bobby still asleep in the bed next to me and daylight shining into the room. I walked down the hall and saw that dad was already up and gone for the day. After hitting the bathroom, I went back to my bed as Bobby was getting up. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but wasn't really sure how to do it or what to say to get things started. I didn't need to worry. Bobby was in a very talkative mood.
Everything Bobby said that day makes perfect sense now. Thinking back though, it was horribly confusing for my very immature eight year old brain. Although I was "learning" quickly about these very unnatural practices, it still made little sense to me until, as time went on, I was exposed to more and more. Bobby rattled on for the next half hour or so, explaining about his first experiences when he was even younger than me.
His brother, older than him by two years, began using Bobby's mouth for oral pleasures when Bobby was still in diapers. Still in diapers! So young that he was still pissing and crapping himself for crying out loud. Bobby's own father, Uncle John, had been using Bobby and Bobby's brother's mouth for at least as long, if not longer (in the case of the older brother, Jason, anyway). Bobby explained about sucking peepee's like it was the most natural thing in the world. And apparently, when he had started spending time at my house, his dad had divulged to my dad about the carrying on so my father decided to help himself to Bobby's oral services. Nothing like keeping it in the family I guess.
Well, my introduction into the world of oral sex had been like a home run for Bobby, who, being the younger brother at his house didn't have anyone at home to turn to for his own release. It was the "unnatural" pecking order. Jason used Bobby and now Bobby had Bryce. Of course Bobby also had to provide for my father and my uncle, which didn't really play out in my mind at the time, just the realization that, by virtue of my being the youngest, I was now Bobby's outlet.
Bobby, it turns out, really needed an outlet. I'm not sure if he was just a naturally horny kid or if being on the brink of puberty turned him into a raging sex monster or if all the years of sucking other people's peepee's created a need for revenge or what. But from first thing in the morning until late at night, I felt like my face was glued between Bobby's legs. He woke up stiff and needed service even before we got out of bed. After breakfast, we would sit on the couch watching tv and he was ready again. Since we seldom wore anything more than our underwear around the house, it provided easy access.
He would sit on the couch, slide his undershorts down (there were those brown stains again, present in almost all his underwear) and pull my face into his lap. After sucking a few minutes, he would raise his hips, slide himself deep in my mouth and squirt his juice. Sometimes afterwards he would let me sit up and watch tv until he was ready for another go, but most times he kept my head in his lap, asking me to "suck his balls". I would lick and suck at his groin and ballsack until his peepee started to inflate again, stiffening it's way to another trip to the back of my mouth, with a fresh volley of "cum" splashing against my throat, finding it's new home in my stomach.
The afternoons were all similar to the mornings. If we weren't watching tv, we were playing in my room, although most games were cut short by Bobby's hands eventually tugging my head towards his groin. Another mouthful of "cum" would follow. The evenings were pretty tame, only because my dad was usually around. Apparently it must be bad form for my dad's cum swallower to be forcing me to swallow his cum right there in the open when everyone was in the room. Whatever. At least I had a reprieve and could spend a little time during the day doing something besides bobbing up and down on Bobby's peepee or licking his balls.
Bedtime was, of course, a trip back between Bobby's legs. He could usually get another nut or two in my mouth before I would fall asleep, although after the first suck job, he had to do the thrusting if he wanted another happy moment because by then I was too tired to do anything but lay there as he pumped my mouth, swallowing down a diminished second load that seemed to take forever to squirt out. Later, he would wake me up after he had returned from his trip down the hall, his own mouth having swallowed down a fresh load of "cum", to squirt one last time before he drifted off to sleep. The following morning we started all over again.
And so it went for most of the summer, me sucking all day long and Bobby making his nightly trek down the hall. Once in a while I would sneak down and watch, getting just a little pleasure watching Bobby be on the receiving end for a change. I would rub my little stiffy through my undershorts as I peeked in at Bobby's head bouncing up and down between my father's spread legs. The slurping and suckling noises coming from Bobby's mouth were now familiar sounds, the very same noises that rang in my ears as I was the one face down between Bobby's legs. Only after my father vocalized his finish, which was immediately followed by Bobby's gulping noises, did I head back to my own room soon to be making slurping and gulping sounds of my own.
That was our usual routine until one night, late in the summer, I was startled awake by a scream. Not a piercing scream, more like a shriek. Bobby was gone from the bed so I assumed he was performing his nightly service. I hopped out of bed and drifted down the hall to watch. The closer I got to dad's room, I noticed that the noises were a little different than the usual moaning and slurping sounds. These were grunting noises, accompanied by a whimpering sound that was distinct, yet muffled.
When I got to the door and peered in (I never really thought much about why my dad never closed the door because Bobby and I always did). There was a new sight inside. At first all I saw was my dad. He was naked (of course) and was face down on the bed. His hips were moving up and down and he was grunting with each downward thrust. As his hips came down, I could hear Bobby make the muffled whimper sounds, but couldn't see him anywhere in the room. Then, as I watched my father's hips raise again, I saw Bobby's legs sticking down between my dad's, laying flat on the bed. Of course! Bobby was underneath and dad was rubbing his peepee against Bobby's butt cheeks like he used to do to me. Only instead of laying on his side, dad was on top and Bobby was underneath. We had never done it that way before but I guess dad figured I was too small to be laid on like that.
As I continued to watch, dad's butt raising and falling, I thought Bobby was being a baby. Heck I had done that plenty of times and never made a peep and here he was making all kinds of whimpering noises. I was younger than him and he was making such a fuss. Pretty soon dad picked up the pace and started rocking up and down pretty fast "Uh, uh, uhing" with each plunge. "Bobby is going to get a wet crack" I thought to myself as I watched one final thrust. Dad's butt cheeks clenched tightly and his hips wiggled around as he let loose with a low moan and Bobby let loose with another shriek, his toes curling and his legs shaking like he was having a seizure. "Silly baby" I thought as I wandered back down the hall.
It took a while before Bobby got back in the room, much longer than normal and I had almost fallen asleep. When the door finally did open, Bobby limped into the room, sniffling and with red eyes that looked like he had been crying. I didn't say anything as he climbed into bed, very gingerly lowering himself in. "What's the matter" I asked rather timidly. Bobby looked at me for a minute, shook his head and muttered, more to himself than me "I shouldn't have told him what Jason does". When I questioned him further, he just shook his head and sniffled.
That night, when he finally got around to pulling his underwear down for his trip into my mouth, I saw a wet patch in the bottom, right where the brown stains were. I assumed dad hadn't wiped Bobby's crack so good when he had finished. The weird part was that although it looked like "cum" to me, it had a strange brown tinge mixed in that I had never seen before. After I finished my sucking and swallowing, I drifted off to sleep, Bobby still sniffling.
Towards the end of the summer Bobby's family very suddenly moved away. Just as quickly as they had arrived on scene, they were gone. I never even had a chance to say goodbye to Bobby. Since I had turned nine over the summer and dad figured I was old enough to fend for myself during the day, there was no new babysitter for me.
End of part 1 To be continued.