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The soft glow of the television painted shifting patterns across the darkened living room. Jensen Ackles, stretched out comfortably on the oversized couch, felt the familiar warmth of his four-year-old son, Zeppelin, curled against his left side. On his right, Zeppelin’s preschool friend, Sammy, a shy boy with messy brown hair, nestled close, both boys utterly absorbed by the animated movie flickering on the screen. Jensen’s strong arm draped protectively around both small shoulders, a picture of paternal contentment. Beneath the thick, fleece blanket covering them from the waist down, however, a very different scene unfolded.
Zeppelin’s tiny hand, hidden by the folds of the blanket, was busy. With practiced ease that spoke of routine intimacy, the little boy was gently stroking and caressing his father’s immense cock. Jensen’s Aryan heritage wasn’t just in his chiseled jawline, dark blond hair, and striking green eyes; it manifested most prominently in the thick, veined pole of flesh resting heavily against Zeppelin’s thigh. Twelve inches long and thick as a man’s wrist, it was almost perpetually hard, a constant presence in their lives. Zeppelin knew its contours intimately – the broad, mushroom-like head slick with pre-cum, the thick shaft pulsing with heat, the heavy balls nestled beneath. His small fingers traced the prominent veins, squeezed the girth experimentally, and pulled the foreskin back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm that kept Jensen fully erect. Jensen shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips as pleasure radiated from his groin. He squeezed Zeppelin’s shoulder affectionately, careful not to disturb Sammy, who remained blissfully unaware of the secret activity beside him.
"More juice, Daddy?" Zeppelin piped up, his bright eyes wide and innocent as he looked up at Jensen.
"Yeah, juice!" Sammy echoed, tearing his gaze away from the screen for a moment.
Jensen chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly. "Sure thing, buddies. Just a little bit though, it’s getting late." He still had some in his glass so he left it on the coffee table to go get more for the boys. He carefully extricated himself, ensuring the blanket stayed strategically placed over his lap, hiding his monumental erection. He padded to the kitchen, poured two small cups of the bright red fruit punch Zeppelin loved, and returned. "Here you go, monsters. Sip slowly."
The boys gulped eagerly. Jensen took a long drink from his own glass, the sweet-tart liquid cool and refreshing. He settled back, Zeppelin immediately resuming his ministrations under the blanket. The rhythmic tugging, combined with the warmth of the boys, the dim light, and the soothing drone of the movie, began to weave a spell of drowsiness over Jensen. His eyelids grew heavy. The last thing he registered before slipping into unconsciousness was Zeppelin’s small hand still firmly wrapped around his base, and Sammy leaning his head sleepily against Jensen’s bicep.
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Consciousness returned slowly, wrapped in thick, disorienting cotton wool. Jensen’s first sensation wasn’t sight or sound, but profound restriction. He couldn’t move his arms or legs. Panic flared, sharp and primal, but it was instantly drowned out by an overwhelming wave of intense, exquisite pleasure radiating from his groin. Something incredibly tight, impossibly hot, and slick was enveloping his cock, sliding up and down its entire, massive length with desperate, eager bounces.
What the fuck? His mind screamed, struggling against the fog. He tried to lift his hands, to push himself up, to see – but his wrists were bound securely to the bedposts above his head. He kicked out instinctively, only to find his ankles similarly fastened to the footboard. Panic surged again, colder this time. Blindfolded. Rough fabric covered his eyes, plunging him into utter darkness. The only reality was the bed beneath him, the restraints digging slightly into his skin, and the incredible, rhythmic pressure on his cock.
"Who…?" he gasped, his voice thick and slurred. The drug – it had to be a drug – still clouded his thoughts. The juice. Zeppelin’s juice. Oh god, Zeppelin! Sammy! Terror for the boys momentarily eclipsed the pleasure. "Where are the boys? Are they hurt?!" He strained against the ropes, his powerful muscles bulging, but the knots held firm.
The only response was a soft, high-pitched whimper directly above him, followed by a renewed, frantic bouncing motion. The tight hole clenched down hard, milking his cock with astonishing strength for something so small. The friction was unbelievable. Hot, wet silk gripping his throbbing girth. Whoever was riding him was small – he could feel the slight weight shifting on his pelvis, hear the shallow, panting breaths close to his face. They were taking him deep, hilting him entirely with each downward plunge, the broad head of his cock stretching whatever tiny entrance was accommodating him to its absolute limit.
The terror for the boys warred violently with the sheer animalistic pleasure coursing through him. His cock, eternally hard, throbbed violently within that incredible tightness. Pre-cum flooded the channel, easing the slide but intensifying the slick, obscene sounds filling the dark room: wet slaps of flesh meeting flesh, desperate little gasps, the creak of the bedsprings under the frantic rhythm.
"Please…" Jensen groaned, unsure if he was begging for it to stop or for it to never end. The pleasure was too intense, too primal to deny. His hips instinctively bucked upwards, meeting the downward thrusts, driving himself even deeper into that impossibly tight heat. A sharp cry answered him – definitely young, definitely male. The sound sent a jolt of confused arousal straight to his core. Small. Young.
The rider’s pace became erratic, desperate. Little hands braced themselves on Jensen’s sweat-slicked abdomen for leverage. The bouncing intensified, the tight hole clenching rhythmically, spasming around his invading length. Jensen felt the telltale flutter deep inside the tiny body riding him, the internal muscles convulsing wildly. The high-pitched cry became a sustained, shuddering wail as the small body went rigid, trembling violently atop him. The sensation of that small, involuntary climax milking him was the final trigger.
With a guttural roar that tore from his chest, Jensen slammed his hips upwards one final time, burying himself to the hilt. His massive cock pulsed violently, thick ropes of scalding cum erupting deep inside the tight, trembling hole. Wave after wave of blinding ecstasy crashed over him, obliterating thought, fear, everything except the raw, explosive release filling that small, convulsing body. He felt the hot seed flooding the passage, overflowing around the base of his cock where it stretched the tiny entrance impossibly wide.
The rider collapsed forward onto Jensen’s chest, small body heaving with ragged sobs, still impaled on Jensen’s softening-but-still-substantial cock. The hot, sticky mess between them was overwhelming. Jensen lay panting, drenched in sweat and cum, utterly spent and profoundly confused. The small weight on his chest shifted, tiny hands pushing weakly against his pectorals.
"So… big… Daddy," a small, tearful voice gasped. Zeppelin.
The word hit Jensen like a physical blow. Zeppelin. His son. His four-year-old son had just ridden him to orgasm. The reality crashed through the lingering haze of the drug and the aftershocks of pleasure. Familiarity mixed with the undeniable echo of ecstasy still humming in his veins. It was certainly not the first time, but the position he found himself in now was certainly new. Before he could process it, before he could even form words, the small weight was lifted off him. He felt his cock, slick with cum, slide wetly out of the tight hole. A soft whimper followed the withdrawal.
He heard hushed whispers near the foot of the bed. Childlike voices, conspiratorial.
"Your turn, Sammy," Zeppelin whispered, his voice shaky but insistent. "He’s all slippery now. It’s easier."
"No… too scary," Sammy whimpered back. "He’s huge. And he roared!"
"But it feels good," Zeppelin insisted, a note of childish persuasion. " And Daddy’s big cock fills you up so much! Just climb on. Like I showed you."
Jensen lay frozen, his mind reeling. Sammy too? They both… drugged me… planned this… The realization deepened, yet beneath it, an undeniable current of arousal stirred again at the thought of another impossibly tight, young hole taking him – a virgin one. His cock, defying logic and fatigue, twitched against his thigh, already swelling back to its full, intimidating hardness.
He felt the mattress dip near his knees. Small, hesitant hands touched his thighs, small hands brushing up against the soft golden fur that covered Jensen’s legs, then his cock, slick with the evidence of Zeppelin’s use. Sammy gasped at the sheer size and heat. Jensen held his breath. He felt the small hands trying to guide the massive head towards an unseen entrance. There was fumbling, a soft cry of effort and discomfort.
"Spread your legs wider, Sammy!" Zeppelin coached quietly. "And push down hard!"
A sharp, pained yelp pierced the darkness as Sammy forced himself down. The resistance was immense. Jensen felt the incredible, tearing tightness engulf just the bulbous head of his cock. It was even tighter than Zeppelin had been, virginally unyielding. Sammy was sobbing openly now, small body trembling violently.
"Stop… Sammy, stop!" Jensen choked out, genuine concern cutting through the haze. "You’ll hurt yourself!"
But Zeppelin was insistent. "Push, Sammy! It gets better! Like it did for me!"
With a desperate, shuddering cry, Sammy bore down with all his tiny might. Jensen felt the agonizingly tight ring of muscle stretch impossibly wide and then suddenly give way. Sammy screamed – a high-pitched sound of pain mixed with overwhelming sensation – as he sank down, sheathing Jensen’s monstrous cock to the root in one excruciating plunge. The feeling was indescribable. Blinding tightness, searing heat, and the visceral sensation of tearing innocence. Sammy collapsed forward, his small body draped over Jensen’s legs, sobbing uncontrollably, impaled and stretched beyond comprehension.
"See?" Zeppelin whispered, sounding satisfied. "Now bounce!"
Sammy didn’t bounce. He lay there trembling, crying softly, his small hole spasming violently around the intrusive, pulsing girth buried deep inside him. The pain was palpable, radiating through his tense little body pressed against Jensen’s legs. Yet, Jensen’s traitorous cock throbbed within that excruciating tightness, stimulated by the raw, clenching heat and the sheer taboo of it. Pre-cum mixed with the blood he could not see but now feel slicking the joining.
Zeppelin, impatient, climbed onto the bed beside Sammy. "Here, like this," he said. Jensen felt small hands grab Sammy’s hips. With surprising strength for a four-year-old, Zeppelin started lifting Sammy up and then pushing him back down onto Jensen’s cock.
"Ah! No! Stop! Zeppelin!" Sammy wailed, but Zeppelin persisted.
Slowly, agonizingly, Sammy was moved. Each small lift was a whimper; each descent forced Jensen’s cock deeper, drawing out ragged cries. Gradually, the cries shifted. The raw edge of pain began to blur with something else – a dawning, overwhelming sensation. Sammy’s sobs became interspersed with shaky gasps. His hole, still impossibly tight, began to clench rhythmically, not just in pain, but in nascent, confused pleasure. The slick sounds returned, wetter now, mingling spent cum on Jensen’s shaft and fresh pre-cum.
"Yeah… see?" Zeppelin panted, still helping to move his friend. "Feels tingly now, huh?"
"Uh-huh…" Sammy gasped, a shudder running through him. "D-Daddy Jensen’s big thing… it’s… hot inside." He tentatively started moving his own hips, a tiny, experimental rock. A soft moan escaped him, surprising even himself. "Oh!"
Encouraged, Sammy began to move more deliberately, finding a slow, grinding rhythm. The tightness was still brutal, but the pain was receding, replaced by a deep, internal friction that sparked strange, intense tingles through his small body. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on Jensen’s thighs, lifting himself up slightly before sinking back down, taking more of the massive cock each time. His moans grew louder, less pained, more wanton.
Jensen was lost. The dual sensations – the reality of what was happening and the utterly intoxicating pleasure of being ridden by one impossibly tight, young hole after another – held him captive. His cock surged within Sammy’s clenching passage, harder than ever. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling upwards, meeting Sammy’s tentative thrusts, driving deeper into that hot, bloody tightness.
"Fuck… yes…" Jensen groaned, the profanity ripped from him by sheer sensation. He was met by Sammy’s answering whimper, a sound now purely of overwhelmed pleasure. The boy’s pace quickened, driven by the burgeoning, unfamiliar ecstasy. He bounced with increasing abandon, small ass slapping against Jensen’s thighs, his cries rising in pitch and desperation.
"Feel funny…" Sammy gasped, his movements becoming frantic, erratic.
He ground down hard, burying Jensen to the hilt, and screamed. His small body locked rigid, his hole clamping down on Jensen’s cock with incredible, vice-like force as his own tiny orgasm ripped through him. The intense milking pressure triggered Jensen instantly. With another guttural roar, he erupted, pumping torrents of thick cum deep into Sammy’s convulsing, violated passage.
Sammy collapsed forward, spent and trembling, his small body slick with sweat and fluids. Jensen lay panting, his cock still semi-hard inside the boy, the room thick with the scent of sex, sweat, blood, and childhood innocence obliterated.
Silence descended, broken only by ragged breathing. Then, the sound of small feet padding on the floor. Zeppelin’s voice, close to Jensen’s ear, was startlingly clear.
"Did it feel good, Daddy?"
Jensen swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Zeppelin… Sammy… untie me. Now." His voice was low, strained, carrying an authority that cut through the post-coital haze.
He heard fumbling near his wrists. Small fingers, surprisingly deft, picked at the knots. After a moment, the rope binding his right hand loosened and fell away. Then the left. He ripped the blindfold off.
The sight that greeted him was seared into his brain. He was in his own bed. Zeppelin stood beside him, naked, his small body smeared with drying cum. His eyes were wide, a mix of apprehension and childish pride. Sammy lay half on the him, half off, still impaled on Jensen’s softening cock. He was also naked; his small buttocks streaked with semen. He was crying softly, his face buried in the rumpled sheets.
Jensen sat up, wincing slightly as his cock finally slipped wetly out of Sammy, leaving the boy’s tiny hole gaping and dripping. He quickly untied his ankles. His mind raced – worry, guilt, a crushing sense of responsibility… and beneath it all, the undeniable ember of the most intense pleasure he’d ever known. He looked at Zeppelin, then at the sobbing Sammy.
"Zeppelin," Jensen said, his voice surprisingly calm despite the storm inside. "What did you put in my juice?"
Zeppelin looked down, scuffing his foot on the carpet. "The white pills from the bathroom. The sleepy ones you take sometimes. We crushed them up." He looked up, his green eyes meeting Jensen’s — the practically identical hue of their eyes another sign of their familial lineage. "We wanted to play with your big cock all night, Daddy. Like I do sometimes. Sammy wanted to try too. He said it looked fun under the blanket."
Jensen closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the childish yet determined simplicity of it. He looked at Sammy, who flinched under his gaze. "Sammy? Are you hurt bad?" His voice softened.
Sammy shook his head, still crying. "It… it hurt a lot at first," he hiccuped. "But then… it felt… buzzy. And then… the funny feeling came." He looked utterly bewildered and exhausted.
Jensen stood, his massive frame towering over the small boys. He felt his cock, sticky and thick, brush against his thigh. It was already stirring again, responding to the sight of them – his son and his son’s friend, naked, used, marked by him. He pushed the thought down. Practicality took over. They needed cleaning up. And this… this couldn’t get out.
He scooped Sammy up gently, ignoring the boy’s whimper as his sore bottom touched Jensen’s arm. He picked Zeppelin up with the other. "Okay, buddies," he said, his voice carefully neutral, almost gentle. "Bath time. We need to get cleaned up."
He carried them to the large master bathroom, setting them down on the plush rug. He started the shower, adjusting the water to a warm spray. As he knelt to help them, his eyes couldn’t help but linger on Zeppelin’s pert buttcheeks, on Sammy’s swollen, bruised entrance still leaking his cum. The pride he felt joined with a dark, possessive thrill. They wanted this. They drugged me for it.
He washed them meticulously, his large hands gentle on their small, bruised bodies. He cleaned the bit of pink and semen from between Sammy’s legs as carefully as he could, the boy flinching but not crying out. Zeppelin watched, seemingly unperturbed, playing with the soap bubbles.
"Daddy?" Zeppelin asked as Jensen toweled him dry. "Did you like it? When Sammy rode you? And me?"
Jensen paused, the towel hovering over Zeppelin’s damp hair. He looked into his son’s expectant eyes.
"Yeah, buddy," Jensen murmured, bringing a small smile onto his lips. He ruffled Zeppelin’s hair. "Daddy liked it a lot." He glanced at Sammy, who was watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. "Both of you." He pulled Sammy into a hug, feeling the small body tense, then relax slightly against him. "You both did… really good."
He dressed them in clean pajamas, the silence heavy with unspoken things. He carried them back to Zeppelin’s room, tucking them both into the bed. Sammy closed his eyes almost instantly, exhausted, but not sleeping. Zeppelin snuggled close to his friend, his eyes drooping.
Jensen stood frozen in the doorway, the dim nightlight casting long shadows. The implication hung in the air. He looked at the two boys, innocent faces belying the depravity they’d enacted. His cock throbbed insistently against his sweatpants. The memory of their tight heat, their desperate cries, the flood of his seed deep inside them… it was intoxicating.
He watched them for a long moment. The soft, rhythmic breathing of Zeppelin filled the small bedroom rather quickly, a stark contrast to the heat raging inside Jensen as he stood in the doorway. Sammy lay beside Zeppelin, his eyes hadn’t remained closed for very long; they were wide open again, staring at the ceiling. Even in the dim glow of the nightlight, Jensen could see the lingering confusion etched on the little boy’s face. He looked impossibly small in Zeppelin’s race car bed.
Now. Do it now.
Jensen took a silent step into the room, the floorboard creaking softly under his weight. Sammy turned, his wide eyes darting towards the door like a startled fawn. Jensen crouched beside the bed, his massive frame dwarfing the small mattress. He kept his voice a low, soothing murmur, pitched just above a whisper.
"Sammy," he breathed, gently brushing a stray lock of brown hair from the boy’s forehead. "You awake, buddy?"
Sammy nodded mutely, mesmerized by Jensen’s handsome face and deep voice instantly.
"It's okay," Jensen said, projecting calm reassurance. "Zeppelin’s sound asleep. Listen to him snore." A soft puff escaped Zeppelin’s lips on cue. "I need to check on you, little man. Make sure everything’s alright." His green eyes held Sammy’s gaze, radiating paternal concern.
Sammy looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. "M-my bum hurts," he whispered, a tremor in his voice.
"I know, kiddo," Jensen murmured sympathetically, his large hand resting gently on Sammy’s pajama-clad knee. "That’s exactly why I need to check. Zeppelin… he’s used to Daddy’s big cock. He takes it all the time, like tonight. But you…" Jensen leaned closer, his tone dropping conspiratorially. "...that was your first time. I need to make sure my big cock didn’t hurt your little hole too bad on the inside. Make sure it’s healing okay."
Sammy’s eyes widened further, filled with a child’s naive trust. "You can do that?"
"Absolutely, buddy," Jensen nodded, his thumb rubbing small, comforting circles on Sammy’s knee. The innocent question sent a fresh surge of blood straight to his groin, making his already semi-hard cock twitch and thicken noticeably against the fabric of his sweatpants. "Daddy knows how to fix things. We need to go to my room, though. It’s easier there, and we won’t wake Zep."
Sammy nodded again. Jensen scooped the small boy up, cradling him protectively against his broad chest. Sammy felt incredibly light, his small body warm and trusting in Jensen’s arms. Jensen carried him swiftly and silently down the hall to his master bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them with a soft thud.
The room still held the heavy, musky scent of their previous encounter – sweat and sex. Jensen carefully placed Sammy down on the large, rumpled bed, the evidence of their actions earlier still staining the sheets beneath him. Sammy looked around sheepishly, pulling his knees up to his chest.
"Alright, buddy," Jensen said, his voice deepening slightly as he stood over the small boy. "To check you properly, I need you to get on your hands and knees. Like a little puppy dog at the vet. Can you do that for me?"
Sammy blinked, processing the request. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, his small bottom facing Jensen. The flannel pajama pants hid the view, but Jensen could already picture the tender, bruised hole beneath, still gaping slightly from his earlier intrusion. The sight sent a jolt of raw lust through him.
"Good boy, Sammy," Jensen praised, his voice thick with anticipation. He knelt behind the small form, his massive presence enveloping the child. His large hands gently gripped the waistband of Sammy’s pajama pants and underwear. "I need to take these off now. So I can see clearly."
Sammy whimpered softly but didn’t resist as Jensen slowly peeled the layers down his thin legs, exposing his small, pale buttocks. The puckered pink entrance was indeed swollen, reddish-purple bruising radiating from its edges. A faint stickiness, a mixture of dried semen, and natural lubrication, glistened around the stretched opening. Jensen’s breath hitched. It was, to his depraved eye, impossibly erotic.
"Oh, little man," Jensen murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of the bruising, making Sammy flinch. "It looks sore, all right. Tender. I need to check the inside. Make sure it’s not torn badly in there. That means…" He paused, letting the implication hang. "...I need to put my big cock in you again, Sammy. Just for a little bit. To feel around."
Sammy gasped, twisting his head to look back, eyes wide with renewed worry. "N-no! It hurt! Last time!"
"I know it did, buddy," Jensen soothed, his hand now stroking Sammy’s trembling flank. "It hurt last time because you were scared, and because my cock was stretching your little hole for the very first time. Like breaking in new shoes. But this time…" His voice dropped to a deeper, hypnotic register. "...this time, I’ll go slow. And I promise, it won’t hurt like before. It might feel… strange. But not bad. Trust Daddy Jensen?"
He saw the conflict warring in Sammy’s eyes – the ingrained trust for an adult, the fear of the pain, the lingering echo of that final overwhelming pleasure. Slowly, hesitantly, Sammy nodded his small head. "O-okay," he whispered, burying his face in the sheets.
"That’s my brave boy," Jensen purred, his own control fraying. He quickly shed his sweatpants and boxers. His monstrous cock sprang free, fully erect now, thick veins throbbing, the broad head already glistening with pre-cum. Twelve inches of pulsating Aryan flesh, impossibly huge against the backdrop of Sammy’s tiny, vulnerable form. Jensen spat into his palm, slicking his massive shaft generously. This was as much lube as the kid was going to get; Jensen always kept it raw and natural. He positioned himself behind Sammy, the blunt, heated tip of his cock nudging insistently against the swollen, abused little hole.
"Deep breath, Sammy," Jensen instructed, his voice strained with lust. "Relax as much as you can for Daddy Jensen." He pressed forward with agonizing slowness, applying steady, inescapable pressure. Sammy whimpered into the sheets, his small body tensing.
"I know, buddy, I know," Jensen murmured, his gaze fixated on the point where his immense cockhead was slowly, inexorably stretching the bruised ring of muscle open once more. "Just relax… that’s it… let Daddy in…"
With a soft, wet pop, the broad crown breached the tight entrance. Sammy cried out, a sound muffled by the bedclothes.
"Shhh, shhh," Jensen soothed, though he was panting now, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort of control and the sheer overwhelming tightness enveloping just his tip. "You’re doing so good. Told you it wouldn’t hurt like last time, right?" He pushed forward another inch, feeling the incredible resistance of the torn, swollen inner walls. He paused, letting Sammy adjust, feeling the minute tremors running through the small body beneath him. "Does it feel… different? Less hurts?"
"Uh-huh," Sammy managed, his voice small and shaky. "S-still big. But… not hurt. Burns a little."
"Just a little burn, that’s all," Jensen agreed, his hips pushing forward with another inch. He was perhaps four inches deep now, already buried impossibly far inside the small child. The sensation was unbelievable – the tightness bordering on painful even for him, the slick heat, the visceral knowledge of his transgression. "See? Daddy’s checking. Feeling all around…" He rotated his hips slightly, grinding the broad head inside Sammy. The boy moaned, a sound that started as discomfort but quickly shifted pitch.
"Oh!" Sammy gasped. "That… that tickled. Inside."
"Just my big cock doing its check-up," Jensen breathed, thrusting deeper. Now half his length was sheathed within the impossibly tight passage. He could feel every ridge, every spasm of Sammy’s internal muscles, gripping him like a velvet fist. He began to move, slow, deliberate strokes, pulling back almost entirely before sinking back in. Each inward thrust drew a soft gasp or a shaky moan from Sammy. "See? Not so bad now, is it? Feels… kinda good?"
"Y-yes," Sammy admitted, his voice muffled but surprised. "Tingly. Warm inside. Like… before the jumpy feeling." An apt description by a child who didn't know what he was describing. He was unconsciously pushing back against Jensen now, rocking slightly on his hands and knees.
"That’s right, buddy," Jensen encouraged, his own breathing becoming ragged as pleasure overrode caution. He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts gaining a fraction more power, each one sinking deeper. He was eight inches in now, stretching Sammy to his absolute anatomical limit, the boy’s small belly visibly distended with the sheer girth invading him. "Daddy’s big cock is making sure everything feels just right inside your little hole. Making it all better." He reached forward, gripping Sammy’s tiny hips firmly to guide his movements. The boy mewled, a high-pitched, needy sound.
"Yes, Daddy!" Sammy gasped, his voice losing its fear, filling with the same dazed, pleasure-drunk tone Jensen remembered from his climax earlier. "Feels… good!"
Jensen groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure lust. He abandoned the pretense of gentleness. Gripping Sammy’s hips hard enough to bruise, he began to fuck the small boy in earnest. Powerful, piston-like strokes drove his full length into the tight, yielding channel. The wet slap of Jensen’s hips against Sammy’s small buttocks echoed in the room, mingling with Sammy’s increasingly loud, high-pitched cries of pleasure.
"Oh! Daddy! Oh! Oh!" Sammy squealed, his head thrown back, his small body bouncing with the force of Jensen’s thrusts. "It’s… it’s jumping inside! The tingly!"
"It’s time, Sammy!" Jensen gasped, his own climax coiling tight and hot at the base of his spine, spurred on by the obscene tightness and the boy’s ecstatic cries. "Daddy’s finishing the check! He’s got a special medicine that makes your little hole heal so fast! It’s daddy’s warm cum!" He slammed into Sammy, hilting himself completely, grinding the boy’s small body into the mattress, his monstrous cock buried to the root. "You need to hold it in, buddy! When Daddy cums inside you, you gotta clench your little hole tight! As tight as you can! Squeeze it shut! That keeps the special medicine inside to make you all better! Can you do that?"
"Yes! Yes, Daddy!" Sammy cried, tears of overwhelming sensation streaming down his face. "I’ll squeeze! Promise!"
"Good boy!" Jensen roared. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, brutal thrust that lifted Sammy off the bed, he erupted. Thick, boiling spurts of cum flooded Sammy’s tiny depths, pumping into him with relentless force. Jensen could feel it ballooning inside the confined space, distending the boy’s small belly even further. "Clench, Sammy! CLENCH!" he commanded.
Sammy screamed, his entire body going rigid as his own small orgasm ripped through him simultaneously, triggered by the intense pressure and the relentless stimulation. True to his word, he squeezed down with all his might, his tiny hole clamping like a vice around Jensen’s pulsing cock, locking the torrent of cum inside him. The sensation was exquisite torture for Jensen – the impossibly tight, rhythmic milking combined with the hot flood of his own release confined within that searing heat.
"Yessss!" Jensen hissed, grinding deep, pumping every last drop of his massive load into the small, convulsing boy. "Hold it… hold it all in… your little hole needs it…" He collapsed forward slightly, pinning Sammy beneath him, his cock still twitching and spurting deep within the clenching passage. Sammy whimpered beneath him, trembling violently, his small hole spasming around the intrusive, cum-bloated thickness.
Slowly, the tremors subsided. Jensen remained buried inside Sammy, feeling the incredible pressure of his own cum trapped within the small body. He pulled out gradually, inch by agonizing inch. As the broad head finally popped free, there was a wet, sucking sound. Sammy’s little hole remained puckered and gaping, but no flood of cum escaped. He was clenching with all his might, his small face screwed up in concentration.
"That’s it, buddy," Jensen murmured hoarsely, rolling Sammy gently onto his back. The boy’s small belly was visibly swollen, taut with the sheer volume Jensen had deposited inside him. "You’re doing perfect. Keep clenching. Hold that special medicine inside. It’ll make your hole feel so much better by morning." He stroked Sammy’s hair, his own breathing ragged.
Sammy nodded, eyes wide with effort and residual pleasure. "Holding… Daddy," he gasped. "Is… is it working?"
"Oh, it’s working, sweetheart," Jensen said, his green eyes dark with satisfaction and depraved pleasure. He traced the outline of the swollen belly with a fingertip. "All that warm medicine, deep inside you, fixing everything. My big cock made it feel good and fixed you. Perfect check-up."
He cleaned Sammy gently with a warm washcloth, ignoring the boy’s soft whimpers as he touched the bruised area. He helped him into clean pajamas, the small belly still noticeably distended. Sammy continued to clench, determined to obey.
Jensen carried the drowsy boy back to Zeppelin’s room. Zeppelin was still sound asleep. He tucked Sammy in beside him.
"Remember," Jensen whispered, leaning close to Sammy’s ear. "Keep clenching as much as you can while you sleep. Keep the medicine in. Heal good for the next check-up." He planted a gentle kiss on Sammy’s forehead.
Sammy’s eyes were already closing, exhaustion overwhelming him. "M’kay, Daddy Jensen," he mumbled. "Heal good."
Jensen stood in the doorway again, watching the two boys. Zeppelin, the instigator, slept peacefully. Sammy, the newly initiated, slept with a faint expression of effort on his face, still subconsciously trying to obey his ‘doctor’. Jensen’s cock, still slick with his own cum, twitched against his leg. It was hardening again. Ready. The "check-up" had been more than successful. It had opened a thrilling new avenue. He pictured Sammy waking up, his little hole miraculously feeling better… ready for more "medicine."
He closed the door softly. The scent of sex clung to his skin. He knew, with chilling certainty, that Sammy would be back for another "check-up" very soon. He’d make sure of it.