Drabbles

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Words: 383

::What Mommy DoesKnowKnow::


‘What mommy doesn’t know won’t hurt her,’ Daddy says to me. I know this to be true. Daddies don’t lie.

Daddy usually says this while pulling up his pants or tying his bathrobe. I watch him from my bed with my aching legs and back and burning bottom. His fluid trickles down my thighs and dampens the bed along with my own.

‘If mommy knew, she would cry,’ Daddy says to me. I know this to be true. Daddies don’t lie.

This is something only between Daddy and me. Mommy isn’t supposed to know. This is man stuff, not mommy stuff. Daddy is teaching me to be a man. He’s teaching me to be grown up. Mommy wants me to be a little boy. Mommy would cry if she knew I wasn’t anymore.

‘Don’t tell anyone else; they wouldn’t understand,’ Daddy says to me. I know this to be true. Daddies don’t lie.

Daddy doesn’t want me to leave him. He wants me to be with him forever. When he holds me down on my bed and kisses my too-small mouth, he’s making I’l I’ll always love him the best. When he kisses and sucks on my hardness like a lollipop, he’s telling me that he loves me best. If I told anyone how much he loves me, they would want to love me too.

‘You can’t tell anyone. This is our secret,’ Daddy says to me. I know this to be true. Daddies don’t lie.

I promise him that I’ll never tell anyone as he spreads my legs, hand gripping my ankles. I’ll never tell anyone how much it hurts when he pushes his hardness into me. I’ller ter tell anyone how good it feels when he hits this one spot. I’ll never tell anyone how loudly I moan and squeak and he groans and grunts as he thrusts in and out. I’ll never tell anyone how I pour forth my liquid while screaming his name, and he does the same inside of me screaming my name. And we soak my sheets and he has to take them off the bed and bring down to the laundry room. And then I tell mommy the next morning that I wet the bed again.

This is between Daddy and me.

I love my Daddy.


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Words: 330

::Because He Loves You::


It is because you love him that you’re on your knees between his long legs sucking his thick, long length in your mouth. Just like a lollipop, he told you the first time. So you sucked and licked, but never got to the sweet cherry flavor. All it did was stretch and stretch and stretch your bruised lips and then suffocate you before it broke spilspilled salty, slimy fluid down your convulsing throat.

But he liked that very much. He told how good you were, even as you cried and sniffled and tried to throw up. The taste lasted for a week. You felt ill for much longer.

But you love him, so you’re back in his study, where you’re not allowed to go normally, letting him pet and stroke your head while you struggle not to choke. His hips are moving, forcing his hardness so far down your throat that you cabreabreathe. Tears, hot and sticky, leak down your cheeks as your small mouth stretches around his girth.

He still tastes nothing like a sucker. He tastes of salt and something earthy and bitter.

‘So good…Oh!’ he moans and his hands grip your head harder. No longer are you controlling the pace. He’s ramming into you and you scream in pain and confusion. He shudders strongly as your cry vibrates around him. He’s never been like this before! He usually is more gentle!

‘Oh! Yeod…Hod…Harry!’ Suddenly he shoves you off. Crying and gagging, you fall on your bottom. You stare up at him, wide-eyed and shaking. With a final groan—you wonder if he’s dying—his hips arch up from the chair.

His salty, slimy fluid spatters your face. Thick and hot, it slides into your eyes, nose and mouth. It mixes with your tears and runs down your neck.

You sit and cry while his bitter essence drips down your face.

You do this because you love him.

Hes ths this because he loves you.