____________________________________________________ It's Not Will. It's William. By Ferris Real ferrisreal0@protonmail.com
Please donate to nifty.org. You can donate here: donate.nifty.org
This is fiction. If you would like to be notified when a new story or installment will be released, please email me with the name of the story. I welcome correspondence.
This story is related to Storm Cellar which you can find in the Adult-Youth category on Nifty. Both contain mild spoilers for each. ____________________________________________________
William stopped going by Will last spring when he was a junior. It felt too childish, and he was tired of being a kid. When he was twelve, he'd been the tallest in his grade -- an overgrown boy. He was the first to find a hair under his arm. His voice cracked early. He felt gangly, but he knew was the leader of the pack.
But then it all stopped as quickly as it had started. He stood at five feet and two inches, was disappointed by his small pecker, and had stringy hair under his arms and on his balls. His peers outgrew him over the next few years. He was the runt by 16. His voice still cracked, and he could still count the hairs under his arms. He'd watched enviously as his peers developed over those four years. His development, however, was completely arrested.
It felt unfair, but it was also unexpected. His dad was a big man at six feet and three inches, big arms, a broad chest. Large and handsome. His sister -- two years his junior -- was a woman by 14. They each had the hallmarks of good development. His father had a hairy chest and a big cock -- thick and long. It was so big and well defined that you could make out the foreskin that covered its bulbous head through a layer of underwear and jeans. His sister had high, firm breasts. She was taller than William and had a wider social circle. Both his father and sister resisted calling him William. It felt infantilizing.
He was sexually frustrated. He wanted to be like his father: a stud who could have anything he wanted. But he never got to be the pursuer. He was always pursued. And not by anyone he was interested in. The girls with weird vibes. The boys who were almost men and liked his softer, smaller frame. The men who liked boys. Occasionally, he'd allow the pursuit, or he'd even be caught. He'd make out with a girl. Show off his pert ass in the locker room to a curious guy a foot taller than him. And he'd had some luck here or there. He wasn't entirely pitiful. But he wanted to be the stud. He wanted to take what he liked.
That's what he was thinking about at the end of junior year when he corrected his friend Tara, saying, "I'm going to go by William now."
She'd looked at him blankly, parroting, "William it is." She was a good friend.
William felt good that day, and he kept correcting people. Teachers, friends, enemies, jocks, nerds, his dad and sister: "It's William, not Will." In the two weeks of school remaining, he'd pretty much done it. Almost everyone who'd signed his yearbook the last couple of days of school started their message with William.
And the first day of summer, he'd gotten a job at the garage in town. Last year, the owner had said, "You're too little for this, kid. I can't employ anyone under 14." He hadn't believed William when he said he was 15.
"Even if you are, you're too small. There's a lot of lifting here."
But the man -- Mr. Petersen -- hired William on the spot this year. William looked in the mirror when he got home. Did he need to shave? He'd usually only shave when his baby fuzz got too noticeable. But this looked like real stubble.
He grabbed a pencil and went to the kitchen pantry where the kids' heights were recorded on the doorjamb. He sat the pencil flat on his head, made a mark, and turned around. His new line sat a solid inch above a thick series of lines that had been traced and retraced hundreds of times over four years. He took off his shirt and went to the upstairs bathroom to observe himself. His pink, puffy boy nipples seemed more taught. His baby fat seemed thinner on his stomach. Lifting his arm, he noted that his pit hair seemed darker and more numerous. He counted, which he could still do, and confirmed that they indeed were.
He sat on the toilet seat, surprised and happy.
Over the course of the summer, his body changed quickly. He marked his height lightly on the doorjamb once a week. A quarter inch here. A half inch there. Nothing. An inch. An eighth. His pits and bush filled in. His voice deepened. His hands grew larger and rougher from his work at the garage. His chest grew broad and coarse, dark blond hair sprouted from nipple to nipple. His cock grew and his balls filled and sagged. He was perpetually in pants too short or shorts too tight, his thickening thighs stretching out each new pair within weeks.
Mrs. Petersen came into the garage only on Fridays to write checks, and each week, she wouldn't recognize William.
"I'm glad you have a nametag on, honey," she'd say sweetly, filling out his check. "You need a new uniform?"
He turned 17 in June, and he'd started getting attention from new kinds of admirers. Women who would've been his dad's type. Boys who wanted a man. Men who wanted a boy that could lay them out. He knew he was up for the task.
Years ago, before he had his own phone and computer to help with his sexual curiosity, he'd seen what he wanted in real life. He'd secretly peeped on his father's escapades. Often. His huge dad liked them like William liked them: small, pert, tight, whining. William had spent years being the boy people wanted to make whine or wanted to caress gently. And he was finally the man who could take on the other role, the role he wanted. He was going to find the tightest holes for his now enormous member. He was going to find the guys that wanted to be used. He was going to tease women and let them chase after his enormous cock and excellent body.
The last week of summer, William took off from work, agreeing that he'd work weekends and a few afternoons a week if Mr. Petersen wanted him in the fall. He took the time to polish his transformation into a young man.
On Monday, William offered Mr. Petersen $1200 for a '96 Toyota Forerunner that'd been abandoned at the garage all summer and asked if he could spend his own time fixing it up a bit more. He worked on it Monday and Tuesday and drove it two towns over on Wednesday to get a wardrobe that fit his newly large frame. He got his hair cut and a carwash. And some sunglasses. On his way home, he stopped to get gas. He went in to pay and to see if he could buy beer. He wasn't carded.
He sat in his car, snapped a few selfies on his phone, and downloaded a few dating apps. He left his picture blank but filled out the rest. On the apps for men, he filled in the profile info: 21 (the only lie), 6'1'', Top, Jock.
He saw a familiar face and resisted clicking on the profile. He didn't click on anyone, in fact. He just wanted to see if the apps worked. His town was too small to have much activity, but he was in a bigger town to shop. He left it open for a couple minutes, closed it without much activity, and headed home.
On Thursday, he hung out with Tara. He brought to the river to swim, but they didn't have to ride their bikes -- he drove them. Tara was impressed and joked that he better not turn into the pushy little snot he'd been when he was 12 and the biggest kid in class. "No promises," William responded.
Friday, he took for himself. He cleaned his car for the third time that week and got some school supplies and a new basketball -- he'd finally get court time this year, he thought happily. He hadn't been played much the last few years. He was good, but he'd been too short.
Friday night, his sister and dad both had dates, so he practiced free throws in the alley. As the sun got low, he checked his phone.
A message from a 40-year-old man, 6'2'', 195lbs, Top. No picture. Nope.
A message from a 20-year-old guy, 5'11'', 175lbs, Jock. A torso picture. Better, but no.
A message from a 19-year-old guy, 5'3''. No weight, no picture. William responded: "Pic?" But the guy was offline.
He checked the straight apps and then scrolled through a few more messages on the gay one. They were all from profiles from the bigger town. As he was closing the app, he got a reply. A torso pic from the 19-year-old shorty. He looked small, slim, and soft. Like William had looked at the beginning of the summer. William sent his selfie back and snapped a pic in the alley. He was sweating and shirtless with his basketball under his arm, casually showing off his bicep.
"William here."
"Tan," the guy replied. William was confused.
"Thanks, but I'm pretty pasty actually."
"I'm Tan."
William felt stupid.
"Oh! Hey, Tan. Sorry. What are you into?"
"Oral. I bottom and top some."
William got hard but played it cool. He didn't say he was 17. Tan sent a face pic but wouldn't send any nudes. William wasn't as shy. He went inside, pulled out his monster cock from his basketball shorts, and sent it along. He already had a plan. He closed the app to let the guy spend some time thinking about William's huge cock and texted his sister and dad asking when they'd be home. It was thirty minutes to Tan's town, and it was 7:30PM now.
"Not anytime soon. I'll text so you can stop fapping," his sister replied. She was such a bitch.
He knew his dad wouldn't be home early. He was probably having sex. But his dad replied shortly, too: "12."
He re-opened the app. Tan had sent six messages:
"Wow!"
"That's bigger than I think I could handle."
"I could suck you off."
"I'm not a good bottom."
"...?"
And a picture of his butt in a pair of tighty whities.
This is what William had waited for -- to be the hot guy that got what he wanted and didn't even need to try.
William: Here or there
Tan: Oh you want to right now???
William: Yea
Tan: Can you pick me up?
William: Yea
Tan: I live with my parents
William: They won't mind you're gone?
Tan: No
William: You don't have a car?
Tan: I'm 15.
William's erection throbbed. He played it cool.
William: I don't want to get you in trouble
Tan: Please?
William: Ok. What's the address?
William put it in his phone. It was a park.
William: Pick you up at the park?
Tan: Yeah, I'm already here
William was already putting his car in gear. He messaged Tan when he arrived, and the boy hopped in the passenger seat of his SUV, having to climb in. He looked nervous.
"Have you done this before?"
"Yes, have you?"
"Yes," William said, opening his fly and pulling out his semi-hard cock. "It's thirty minutes back."
William drove back as the boy gently touched his rising erection. William looked down periodically, seeing his small hand barely wrapping around his thick uncut cock. It looked familiar, like the small guys he'd seen his dad seduce who would be dwarfed by his huge body and heavy member. They were silent in the car. At a traffic light while stopped, William grabbed Tan's black hair and pulled his head to his cock.
"I thought you said you could suck me off," he asserted, pushing the boy down on his man-sized cock. With Tan bent over in the seat, William could see into the back of his shorts. He couldn't wait to pull them off. He reached behind Tan and slid his rough hand into the boy's tighty whities, grabbing a handful of his young bubble butt and gliding a finger over his pucker.
They rode this way back, and William pulled the slobbering boy off his cock a few minutes before they arrived, stuffing his manhood back in his fly.
Tan sat up, a wet puddle of precum staining the front of his shorts.
"Your dick is so big," he said.
Tan wasn't a stranger to sucking and taking cock in his little pussy. A lot of guys seemed to be into his slight frame. Some fetishized his race -- his parents had immigrated from Vietnam. But William's was the biggest cock he'd ever seen. It was beautiful and heavy. He could feel its weight on his tongue when he tried to swallow it.
William pulled up outside of the house, parking in the front on the street: 447 Wheelock. Tan got out and walked to the front door. Turning, he saw William motion to follow him. Apparently, they weren't going in that way. They went through the front gate and into a door that led to a cellar under the house. Tan followed a little reluctantly. Tan could stand up easily in the cellar, but William stooped as he followed the boy down, closing the door behind him.
The sun was down now, and William pulled a chain that lit a single bulb at the corner of the cellar. There was an old bed with a mattress on it that had only a fitted sheet covering it. No pillows, no comforter. William grabbed Tan by the back of his neck, pushed him along as they approached the bed. William quickly undressed Tan and pulled off his own clothes deftly. He pushed Tan down on the bed which creaked as the boy fell into it. William wrapped a single hand around the boy's ankles and lifted them both high above his head. He pressed his face into Tan's sweet cheeks and ate his hole.
Tan seized with pleasure and moaned. Still holding both his ankles, William pushed Tan's knees to his chest, reached around with his other hand, and covered the boy's mouth. He looked up over Tan's hole, saying, "Shhhh! Shut up."
Tan thought maybe they weren't alone in the house, but they were. William just wanted to use the boy's cunt in peace. He wanted only to hear the squishy sounds of his tongue wetting the boy's pussy, the creaking of the mattress, the inevitable pop of the boy's little sphincter around his cock, and the boy's nervous breaths.
Tan sweated from concern. He worried that he wouldn't have much say in what was going to happen next. He wished they had discussed what they wanted a little longer. But he was so turned on. His cock leaked and his hole throbbed as William's hand moved from his mouth to his throat.
At first, William gently pulled Tan up and down on his mighty tongue, using Tan's throat as his body's handle. Tan took deep breaths between undulations on William's wet probe. He was in ecstasy. William handed Tan his own ankles, and Tan held them back while William used his now free hand to lift the boy's cunt higher off the bed. William's knees were on each side of Tan while he drove his tongue in the boy, fucking him deeply and wetting his inner rings.
Tan came.
It was sudden and accidental.
William didn't flinch. He kept going, briefly releasing the boy's throat as he slapped him solidly on the face, letting Tan know he was displeased with his pathetic, premature load and replacing his hand on Tan's throat, much tighter this time. Tan thought, "Oh fuck that was so good. He's so fucking mad now."
William continued devouring Tan's little cunt, keeping him silent. He was furious the boy had came. He thought of this encounter as pleasure for himself -- not a treat for this sad little creature he was using. He was intent on punishing him.
William completely released Tan just as his load was beginning to dry on his small, flat tummy.
"Wipe your load on my cock, faggot," William barked. "And choke on my cock."
Tan, shaking, complied. He smeared his load on William's enormous cock. It was a big load for Tan, but it only covered William's head. It was like trying to paint an elephant's trunk with a bottle of nail polish. Tan then began to lick his load from William's monster cock. William slapped him again.
"Fucking idiot. It's lube, not a treat. Get it slicker! Don't lick it off!" William filled his hand with Tan's hair, wrapped his other hand around the boy's throat, lined himself up, and pushed himself all the way into the boy's throat as Tan coughed and choked, spit and snot running from his nose and mouth and his eyes filling with water. "Like that!" William grinned mischievously as tightened his grip on the boy's throat, massaging his own cock.
William wasn't interested in his throat, though. He wanted his pussy. He just needed to be wet enough. Pushing Tan back on his back and putting his knees to his chest, William dropped his foreskin covered cockhead at the boy's quivering entrance. He aimed and spat a wad onto the boy's hole and on his already glistening shaft. He didn't breathe. He wanted silence so he could hear the boy's pussy break as he entered him.
Tan didn't think it'd fit, but he knew he shouldn't protest. He looked up at the man on top of him, pressing his eyebrows together, trying desperately to communicate that he needed it easy. He put his hands on William's muscular back and dug his fingertips in as William again wrapped his hand around Tan's throat, ready to muffle any sounds of pleasure or pain the boy might release.
William began his journey in. The first ring was no problem. William had tongue fucked the boy to climax, so he was obviously open and eager for a cockhead in the shallowest part of his chute. But the second ring was nearly impossible to penetrate. The boy was nervous, and William's pushy attitude hadn't given Tan any assurances to relax into. William didn't intend to start reassuring the boy now, but he did want in. He looked at Tan's scrunched up cute little face, removed his hand from his throat, and held his cheek as if he might kiss him. The boy's eyes opened, and he briefly relaxed as he prepared for a kiss -- something he hadn't thought William wouldn't give him.
William bit his lower lip and grimaced as he took the opportunity to push past the boy's second ring. In the silence, both William and Tan could hear the boy's tight inner pucker buckle and give way to the invading dick. Tan let out a cry, which William quickly muffled with the palm of his hand. Tan writhed and bucked as William slid the remainder of his pulsing manhood into the boy's tight, taught, aching pussy. He leaned down to the boy's ear.
"Sorry it wasn't a kiss. It was better, though. Don't you agree?"
Tan nodded in agreement, his eyes watering. William let go of his mouth and grabbed his collarbones like handlebars. He pressed his weight into the boy's chest, sinking his shoulders into the mattress and giving William a better position to use his ass. William began to fuck.
Tan felt the cock in him begin to exit and blood rush back into his suffocating bowels. It felt like ages that the long, thick snake slithered out of him and like moments that it attacked him again. He was on fire. He felt his much smaller cock twitch as William repeated his cycle -- in and out. He let his head lay back and his neck go limp as William fucked him like a doll, his fingers digging into his collarbones. Occasionally, William would bottom out mid thrust, stop, and push hard into the end of the boy's bowel, making Tan let out a whine or a yelp or a moan depending on the level of pain or pleasure that thrust brought. William would give the boy a slap to remind him to be silent. Tan could tell William enjoyed disciplining him but ultimately wanted compliance. Tan's cock throbbed and blew a second load, which William smeared on his cock as he continued to mercilessly pound Tan's boycunt.
After what seemed like an hour of this agonizing heaven, William said matter-of-factly, "You're going to take my load, whore."
In a trance, Tan nodded, as eager to have his cunt filled as we was to have a break from his use.
William sweated profusely as he picked up his pace.
"Now clench it," he said.
Tan, who hadn't realized that he'd even relaxed, fought hard against William's repeated intrusions, flexing his abs and trying to choke William's cock with his guts.
"Good boy," William said, the first praise he'd given Tan. He grunted and stopped mid trust as his cock let out gobs of cum in the boy's cunt. William felt it racing from his cock slit, into the boy, down the side of his shaft, and out onto William's balls and the mattress.
His cock still pulsing small spurts of cum like a drying fountain, William pulled himself out of Tan, raised the boy's cunt to his mouth, and ate him, drinking in both their loads and the boy's cunt juices. He dropped Tan's cunt to the bed, bent over, and kissed him deeply.
"I think you earned a kiss," William teased, getting off the boy.
William stood. He picked up the boy's clothes, balled them up, wiped himself clean with them, and tossed them at Tan as he lay shaking on the bed, a puddle of nerves and pleasure.
"Time to go. Get dressed," William commanded as he pulled his own clothes on.