Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little
country boy, the prettiest little creature who was ever seen.
His mother was excessively fond of him; and his grandmother doted on
him even more. This good old lady even had a little red riding hood made
just for him. It was a crimson hooded shirt that ended just above
his navel. The velveteen material was soft and sheer, and the
garment hung delicately over the child's slender frame.
This look suited the boy so extremely well that everybody named him
"Little Red Riding Hood".
And they called him "Little Red" for short.
There was much reason for the boy to be proud of his
garb. The fabric was sheer and well-fitted; it left just
enough room against his body for the wind to send
tingles across the tender skin it covered.
One may say that it was quite the nefarious apparel, for
it was these tingles which first awakened Little Red's
more lustful desires.
From even the most innocuous breeze, the rustling fabric
caused the child's soft nipples to twitch and harden and
grow achy with desire. It was also inconvenient that the
stylish embroidery on the chest hid a series of knots
and braids that rested precariously over his nipples;
they were placed in such a way that even the smallest
disturbance would mimic the tease of a gentle lover.
The result was no surprise. Little Red never failed to
sport an innocent erection to match his daily garb - an
erection that the bashful boy could never hide while
wearing those rosy-pink, thin revealing shorts.
However, there was never anything mentioned of these
innocent erections, for everybody
agreed that they added quite a charming look.
As a naive and growing boy, it was common for Little
Red's small cocklet to straight as a nail for entire
days on end, and visibly drooling in sexual frustration.
In such events, Little Red's boyhood made a terrible
mess of the fabric around his waist, but he dared not
touch or fondle it – for he was ever the good little
Of course, it was not as if Little Red even had the
faintest clue of how such fondling would occur in the
first place. His mother was strict, and the Reverend
yes, the Reverend was strict indeed.
Each day, the kind man of God would test Little Red to
ensure he was being good. To do so, the Reverend would
lift that little red riding hood over the boy's belly as
he tugged down those thin red shorts. Little Red would
be quite afraid, but he would obediently stand still
like a good little boy.
Often for hours, the clergyman would faithfully test
poor Little Red – by rubbing him, and teasing him, and
tickling him in his naughty places until the boy would
break his chaste silence with mewling cries of reluctant
The benevolent man would touch just the right spots to
make Little Red feel so much burning, tempestuous sin in
his body that he felt he could simply explode.
But not to worry, for these "explosions" would never
occur. After all, the Reverend was a man of the Holy
Bible. He was there to educate Little Red in the ways of
God and chastity. He was there to guide the boy to
salvation and wholesomeness.
The priest would certainly never let Little Red succumb
to his sinful heat, no matter how many times the boy was
pushed to the breaking point, no matter how much his
luscious thighs buckled with need, and no matter how
many hours upon hours of such
testing the youth was made to endure.
It was only at the end of the day that the strict
clergyman would leave the boy hanging without resolution
at his weakest, horniest, most desperate moment. After
feeding the boy an herbal potion that would prevent what
he called "devilish dreams", the Reverend would simply
lower the little red hood back over the boy's body, and
pull those screaming tight shorts back over those ripe
Then the clergyman would abandon Little Red to fend for
himself against the waves of sin that wracked his
simmering body. If on one day the boy did not seem up to
the task, the good reverend would order the boy to sit
across the statue of the Virgin Mary and pray for an
hour to be forgiven for his lustful flesh.
But oh, how lustful Little Red's tender flesh would be.
The boy was tempted beyond reason by his unearthly
wishes. In his guilt, Little Red sought to act as if his
urges did not exist. He tried to simply will the
temptation out of his body. But the more he tried to
resist them, the more his mountain of need would consume
his every thought.
No matter how hard he tried to be a proper child of the
Lord, there were always cracks in his better willpower.
Little Red's tongue would wet his lips with dormant
longing, his thighs would grind together fruitlessly
behind the pew; his back would arch and his body would
ache for release inside the teasing prison of his little
Although his body trembled with moral frailty, Little
Red always refused to give in like the good little boy
he was. He refused to give in to the throbbing warmth
radiating from his loins, even when it threatened to
devour his body whole.
Like a good little boy, he refused to give in to the
ragged and panting rhythm of his breathing. He refused
to give in to half a lifetime of testing and touching
and deprivation. Indeed, Little Red knew how to fight
the good fight. Even at the boiling point, Little Red's
response would be to hold his hands in prayer like the
good little boy he was.
Because good little boys never cum.
After a particularly grueling day of being tested by the
kind priest, Little Red sat at his desk for some
recreational bible reading. Unfortunately, the lingering
breathlessness from the Reverend's testing seemed only
to get worse. Little Red tried to resist the sinful
longing that the day had brought him, but it was truly
hard... as was his throbbing virgin cock.
The boy's hands did not dare touch the virtually
explosive region beneath his shorts, so he instead tried
to occupy himself with an emergency chastity prayer
while his rigid boynail twitched and drooled.
Little Red's dilemma did not slip beyond the knowing
gaze of his mother, however. To (surely) distract his
mind from carnal desires, she decided to give him a
menial task to occupy his time, and perhaps it would
ease her sweet little angel's curious restlessness.
Having made a serving of her sweet milk tea earlier in
the day, she said to Little Red, "Go, my dear, and see
how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been
very lonesome. Bring her this sweet milk drink, and this
little jar of honey."
Little Red was an obedient boy. Upon hearing his
mother's wishes he set out immediately to go to his
grandmother, who lived in another village.
As Little Red passed through the woods that stood in between, he
was met by a Mr. Amison Wolfe.
This stranger was at first drawn to the scent of the erotically
charged youth. There was a light sheen of sweat coating the child's
tender body, and there was a growing stain of precum that rested
atop those thin tented shorts.
And oh my... Mr. Wolfe had a very great mind to eat the boy up, but he
dared not create too much noise, because of some woodcutters nearby
who may be jealous and steal his prize.
Walking over to the boy and wrapping an arm around those slim,
hooded shoulders, Mr. Wolfe asked Little Red where he was going with
a gentle squeeze.
The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and
talk to Mr. Wolfe, said to him, "I am going to see my grandmother
and carry her some sweet milk and this little jar of honey."
By this time, Mr. Wolfe had slipped his roaming hand underneath
Little Red's arm and was now caressing the adorable boy's sensitive
midriff and ribs.
"And how far off from these woods lives she?" inquired Mr. Wolfe.
His fingers danced over Little Red's trembling skin.
"In the village a slight distance away, it's the first house by the
windmill," answered naïve Little Red. With a slight husky tone in
his voice, he added, "There's still a long ways for me to walk."
The stranger picked up on the child's wistful acknowledgment of his
body's need, well evidenced by the still-drooling pricklet inside
Little Red's shorts. It was clear that despite his mother's best
wishes, the furious sexual heat within her son's loins were now
burning as hot as ever.
And this Wolfe was determined to fuel the fire.
The Wolfe slid his fingers underneath the hooded shirt and inched
his way to Little Red's nipples. And in the same way the old
Reverend would tease the boy, Mr. Wolfe ran gentle circles that
spiraled gradually closer to the center of Little Red's tender nub.
And when the devilish stranger would finally touch a nipple
ever-so-gently, the adorable boy would let out a small chirp of
Indeed, this was the day for which the kind priest had prepared
Little Red. It was the day where the boy would be forced to confront the sinful, decadent callings of his base desires. It was,
in every respect, Little Red's moment of reckoning.
In theory, the years of careful "preparation" and grooming should
have yielded a boy immune to even the most artful and precise
stimulation. But in practice, Little Red was not immune
to this expert seduction. Little Red, in fact, was actually more
susceptible than he otherwise would have been.
With merely one
short day of the reverend's rigorous testing, the average boy would
have been a quivering wreck against the Wolfe's sensual
But after so many years upon years of such endless fondling and
stimulation, of desperate boyish need without the mercy of a single
release, it soon became abundantly clear to the Wolfe that this
charming Little Red Riding Hood stood hardly a chance.
With the crushing weight of so much sexual tension bearing down
on his young body, Little Red's lithe body squirmed in erotic
anticipation. His breathing became heavy and irregular.
His prick was leaking faster than he could ever remember, his chest
was barraged by electric touches, and his face was flushed hot pink
from the subtle exertions imposed by the insidious Mr. Wolfe.
"It is in the stars that you should take a pause from your duties,"
the predator whispered
into the boy's ear. "For we both know that you
can not take even one more step."
Mr. Wolfe planted a soft kiss just below the boy's earlobe, and
Little Red let out a peep of arousal. Weakened, Little Red leaned his
weight against his new lover. A pair of strong, hairy arms wrapped
the child's trembling body, ready to capitalize on this precious sign of weakness.
With a subtle grope with his other hand, Wolfe sized up the young
package and then rubbed it through the sheer fabric. The moist silky
fabric rubbed exquisitely against the horny boy's cock.
The Wolfe used a
finger to lightly trace the length of Little Red's erection, upon
which the boy's hips bucked with involuntary arousal.
Sliding his hand down from the boy's erection to his trembling
svelte legs, the Wolfe made wicked use of his light ginger touch to
make loops along Little Red's highly responsive inner thighs.
It was too much for the lad to endure! The charming tyke moaned
through his soft, pretty pink lips. His addled mind was drenched quite
thoroughly in sex. There was no more hope, no more escape, no more
kind priest to praise his efforts. For the first time in his life,
Little Red was being used by one who actually planned to make him
cum. This was no mere practice, not some tortuously
"I have the relief for which your body screams," he offered. The
hapless boy withered feebly.
Wolfe's mouth drew a seductive, hot breath along the shivering boy's
neck. He gingerly scraped his sharp teeth along the tender skin and
licked it with his tongue.
tremendous results, the Wolfe bent lower and peppered kisses down the boy's chest and stomach.
With a twinkle in his eye, he turned Little Red around
and lightly planted a trail of kisses along the
shivering spine. The child's hips twitched
uncontrollably - Little Red's small tight body crumpled
the soft forest ground.
Practically salivating at the sight
of the feast before him, Wolfe bent further downwards and continued
planting kisses on the boy's overloading body. With a smile, the
Wolfe laid a smooch on the boy's tailbone and then pulled off those
thin little shorts. Now with nothing more in his way, the Wolfe parted
Little Red's soft round cheeks to reveal a winking, quivering
treasure nestled in between.
"You are truly a beautiful
little lad," crooned the Wolfe, licking his lips before
he sucked the sin from Little Red's flesh.
The Wolfe slithered his fiendish
tongue down the crevice of Little Red Riding Hood's parted cheeks.
The boy's erection twitched furiously – the good priest had never
touched him back there!
But Little Red was too consumed by lust to protest, and the Wolfe
was well aware. The predator licked delicate circles of saliva
around the boy's twitching rosebud. The tip of
his tongue searched out the weakest parts of the sensitive winking
pucker. Then, once it seemed the boy could writhe no more
frantically from the
sensations, Mr. Wolfe slithered his long tongue deep into
Little Red's yummy, hungry hole.
Things seemed quite bleak for poor Little Red. With a warm, slimy
tendril worming around inside his sensitive rump, it seemed as
though Wolfe were penetrating him into his very soul.
those years of training, of careful preparation and
delicious suffering had gone to waste. This devilish
animal of a man knew exactly how to undo the civilized
safeguarding of Little Red Riding Hood's steamy aching
As one can imagine, Little Red was particularly naïve in affairs of
the body. His mother and the good Reverend both agreed that it
would be best to ensure his chastity through ignorance. But with
every flicking, darting, swirling motion of the tongue that
penetrated his ass, Little Red learned that he was very
close to coming indeed.
But while his gradual deflowering of Little Red was proving
immensely successful, it was perhaps too successful. The loud
gasps and moans the boy was making rekindled the Wolfe's concern
about somebody else overhearing him.
So, the ever-cautious Wolfe reluctantly pulled his tongue from Little
Red's needy lustful hole. With a frustrated sigh, the addled boy
collapsed pathetically over his basket upon his lover's
What a waste of a
good opportunity - he should have prowled at a safer
part of the forest. But he would have his lovely meal
yet. A pensive grin grew on the Wolfe's face as sinister thoughts raced in his head about a newer,
safer, and even more beautiful plan of attack.
One minute, Little Red was being ravished by new, untold
pleasures in his bumhole. But the next second, he lifted his pretty
little head with great effort and noticed with dismay that, although
his ravished hole was leaking a steady stream saliva, there was
nobody there behind him.
"Could that perhaps have been a dark spirit?" mused the foolish lad.
"And could it be... that I have vanquished it?"
Having completely forgotten the truth of his predicament, Little Red
beamed with thought that he had emerged victorious from his
"I really am a good little boy!" he thought, as he pulled up his
shorts from around his knees.
Little Red moaned with a slight twist of his hips when the soft
fabric rubbed against his straining erection, but the significance
of his excitement was drowned out by his delusions of moral
And even though each step he took still threatened to send the
simmering boy over the edge, his chest beamed with pride at having
resisted the oh-so-luscious urge to cum. He couldn't wait to tell
the Reverend when he got back!
But in the meantime, the scantily clothed boy staggered through the
forest towards his grandmother's home. His shorts were sopping wet
and his red riding hood would tickle his nipples and skin with each
So far in the boy's day, it seemed, there had been much difficulty.
Not only had Little Red woken up with a fierce erection that simply
would not go away, the Reverend also happened to be especially
enthusiastic and severe in his ministrations. The Reverend had said
that he was growing weary of being too soft on the boy, and indeed
it seemed to be true. Little Red had reached the point of sensory
overload only five minutes into the training regimen, and it only
got worse from then on.
Little Red had even fainted four times, but the Reverend wasted no
time in reawakening his pupil and then teasing those soft sensitive
nipples until the boy wanted to scream. And of course, scream he
did, for Little Red was sweating and drooling onto the sacred stone
floor of the church while his tortured pecker throbbed with waves
Just thinking about it was enough to make Little Red weak at the
knees and stumble a total of three times as he finally neared his
Curiously, the door to the cottage was already wide open. Calling
from the doorsteps, he cried, "Grandmother? This is Little Red
Riding Hood here to bring you some tea and honey."
"Little Red Riding Hood, you say," mused his grandmother's voice
from inside the cottage. "Come in, come in."
Little Red walked inside and looked around until he saw his
grandmother waiting for him in her plush bed. For some reason,
thought the child, his grandmother looked... different.
Meanwhile the grandmother, seeing him come in, said to the boy,
"Bring the milk tea and the little jar of honey, and come get into
bed with me."
Little Red brought his items and got into the bed. He was greatly
amazed to see how his grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and
said, "Grandmother, what big arms you have!"
"All the better to hold you with, my dear."
"Grandmother, what big legs you have!"
"All the better to thrust with, my child."
"Grandmother, what big hands you have!"
"All the better to pleasure you with, my child."
But it was the next observation that caught Little Red off-guard: A
huge, thick erection that stood angrily above a pair of
exceptionally hefty sperm-filled testicles. Little Red Riding Hood
unconsciously licked his lips with ambiguous desire.
"Grandmother... what big genitals you have!"
"All the better to fuck you with... my child."
And, with these words, the wicked wolf fell upon Little Red
Riding Hood, and ate him all up.
Lunging onto his prey, the Wolfe grabbed the
horned up, willing boy and kissed him
passionately on the lips. The confused but sexually primed boy
tentatively kissed his lover back.
Little Red, consumed by the warm and surprisingly welcomed embrace, swooned in Mr. Wolfe's
strong arms. His knees gave out fully beneath him, and his body went
limp after a day of untold sexual excitement. All the boy could do
in his ungodly state of arousal was to pant like a bitch in heat and
go along with the ride.
Mr. Wolfe ran his fingers over Little Red's entire body and was
exceptionally satisfied with the boy's responsiveness. He grazed his
hands over the soft milky skin and could only imagine the tingles of
pleasure that wracked the boy's body. Then, the Wolfe decided to
pick up where he left off in the woods and slipped two fingers into
Little Red's hole, which was still wet with his own spit.
Little Red let out an adorable squeak from between his rosy red
cheeks. His lust-addled mind was swimming in ecstasy. Wolfe's long
fingers became a blur as they pistoned in and out of his ravenous
sphincter and made beautiful new feelings course through Little
Red's entire being.
Wolfe turned lad over until he was facedown on the bed. Swiftly the
boy was fondled, tweaked, stroked and fingered, and there was
nothing that Little Red was able to do but wince cutely while his
vulnerable body was exploited for its pretty sexual treasures.
When it became clear to Mr. Wolfe that Little Red was finally ready
to be eaten, he licked his teeth in anticipation. Pulling the shorts
down just enough to expose the boy's trembling rosebud, the wicked
Wolfe plunged his cock into the slick, sexually primed virgin ass
And indeed, it was the unforgettable sensation of a thick, steamy
cock making its first penetration that was enough to finally,
finally push poor Little Red Riding Hood over the edge and into
delicious, boyish orgasm.
And moreover, it was only when the boy finally came, after a
lifetime of wait, that it became clear what the results of the
Reverend's unique regimen truly accomplished.
Far from developing an immunity to horniness, the boy had instead
grown an increased capacity for arousal – which yielded the most
delicious and explosive cums indeed, as the Wolfe savagely pounded
his spear into Little Red's hungry cunt.
The simple fact is, if Mr. Wolfe were to pause his savage
deflowering of the innocent boy below him, Little Red would have
begged and screamed for more, abandoning his pretense of chaste
civility. But instead, Little Red's consent was honored as an
unspoken truth that paved the way for his unbridled sexual deviance.
Indeed, it could only be described as mercy that Wolfe did not stop
and wait for Little Red to beg, for he certainly would have, and
there would then be no doubt at all to his shame.
Little Red's body spasmed again and again while his jaw dropped,
causing his soft lips to form a circle of pleasure. Both had lost
count of how many times the boy came, but there had been at least
one a minute while the Wolfe fucked his new bitch.
tight sheer shorts were now sopping wet with Little Red's
first, second, third, and umpteenth loads of juvenile cream. No
matter how the boy may have misinterpreted the outcome of his first
encounter with this skilled and sensuous spirit, Little Red's
failure was made exceedingly clear by the cummy mess in Little Red's
In a brief recognition of irony, Little Red reminisced that his
mother had chosen the color pink for his shorts so that they would
symbolize his innocence and purity. But now, they only served as a
lewd, pornographic emblem of Little Red's spoilt chastity,
collecting in a small puddle at the tip of his tented fabric while
Little Red's face was planted into the bed by his dominating expert
Sadly, there was no longer anything the poor child could do to
regain his lost honor. Despite his many preceding orgasms, Little
Red was jolted by maddening sparks of sheer pleasure with even the
slightest motion of the Wolfe's thick, veined cock. Although he
would try to push the invader out, this would only intensify his own
pleasure as his disobedient body refused to cooperate. But the worst
of all is that everything that was happening to him felt so, so, so
Little Red piteously let out a pleading whine of denial, hoping to
go back to the better days when his carnal needs had never been
unleashed. "I'm... mmhh... n-not dirtyy... ohhh... mmhh..."
"But you are dirty," replied the
wicked creature. "You are anything but a good boy. Good
girls cum with cocks deep inside them. But good
little boys... good little boys don't cum like girls..."
covering his ears in futility and writhing his ass on a
hot beating cock, the fucked boy came again when the Wolfe
teased his nipples.
"Tell me Little Red, did you just cum like
a boy... or did you just cum like a good little girl?"
Moaning, Little Red tried to shut his eyes
and hide from the shame of his own newfound lust. But
Wolfe was having none of it.
"You... you've been cumming as much as your
little red body can cum. Your breath is husky and
labored, and your scrumptious young body smells of sex."
And then, Mr. Wolfe let Little Red's squeals and squirms of delight
serve to testify against his own deluded words. And as he
instinctively lifted his rump in the air for more attention, Little
Red did not know what to do as the bedrock of his moral identity was
pounded away with every thrust, every squeak of pleasure, and every
gliding thrust of manly cock into his eager hole.
"Cum like a good
girl," whispered the Wolfe.
And Little Red
Riding Hood obeyed. He came, blissfully and repeatedly
and loudly and helplessly. The boy's tight flesh was no
longer his own. It was a slave for the stronger, harder,
and manlier flesh snaking deep inside of him.
Having long ago fallen from grace, Little Red's arousal was
magnified tenfold by his submission and vulnerability, the knowledge
that the Wolfe could do anything he wished to his pretty, slender
"Yess... you feel sooo good, so sexy and hot, don't you," taunted the
Wolfe as he licked Little Red's earlobe. "You just can't get enough
of this big, throbbing meat inside you."
"Cum like a good
The Wolfe's firm rod thrust deeply again
into the squealing lad's warm hole. Little Red shivered in perverse delight, his own pecker swelling in
the wake of another luscious burst of ecstasy.
However, this time
he was joined by the Wolfe as well in achieving release.
The experienced creature grasped his toy's hips and plunged in
as deep as he could. Little Red, of course, could feel each and
every rope of thick cream that splashed inside of him, and his hips
bucked down against the throbbing man-cock in his own youthful
But most importantly, this snapshot of utmost submission was
a testament to the Wolfe's overpowering sexual energy. It claimed
the boy's body as his own, injecting his thick devilish nectar
straight into the innocent child's helpless soul. Little Red let out
a weak sob of defeat and overwhelmed pleasure.
"I'm not yet finished," barked the Wolfe as he finally withdrew from
the boy's spent body.
Mr. Wolfe reached over beside the bed and retrieved the jar of honey
in Little Red's basket, pouring the thick sweet syrup over his
"Lick it clean," commanded the Wolfe. "It would be a shame to
waste your mother's treat."
Little Red at first hesitated, but the Wolfe simply ran a finger
down the boy's spine and then straight into his hole. Buckling his
knees, Little Red let out a moan, and the Wolfe slipped his
sweetened cock in between the boy's soft pink lips as they parted in
While the boy instinctively swirled and flicked his tongue against
the knob in his mouth, the Wolfe gently eased the boy onto his back
and poured liberal amounts of expensive honey onto Little Red's
rock-hard nail. The glistening, sticky goo formed a potent mixture
with the boy's precum as it dripped over his young sack and flowed
over - and into - his ravished cummy hole. In fact, so much had dribbled between his legs
that the slick crevice of his cheeks would squish audibly from the
cocktail of honey and seeping cream.
"When I raise you
as my own, your story will be famous. But you won't be
famous for being a good little boy," taunted the Wolfe.
He reached over with his long arm and eased two long
fingers into Little Red's soft hole, cupping one of the
pert cheeks with his palm. "They might not even know you
were a boy... all they'll know... is that you cum like a
sound of that phrase hit the helpless boy like a truck.
Shocked into the orgasm his mind had been trained for,
Little Red's body was once again in the climactic
state of arousal it had endured all day. He moaned in defeat as his weakening legs
splayed and parted for more.
The Wolfe tantalizingly dripped the warm honey over the boy's inner
thighs, reveling in the lad's subtle twitches of delight. With a
mouthful of cock, Little Red groaned in pleasure when the Wolfe
covered his cute navel with honey and then dripped
thin threads of the thick condiment over the juvenile's puffy and needy nipples.
It was thus that Mr. Wolfe spent the remainder of the night teasing
his boywhore to new levels of shameful lust. He fed the boy his
honey-covered adult sperm and the boy would slurp every drop into his
belly, all while whimpering in reluctant satisfaction.
Sometimes though, in fleeting moments of clarity, the broken and
distraught Little Red would even whisper in a small voice, "I-I'm...
sup-supposed to be a g-good little b-boy..."
But the Wolfe would just laugh his wicked howling laugh. And then,
all while whispering dirty sayings in the pretty creature's ear, the
Wolfe would fuck the youth's precious ripe little bottom hard and deep in
exactly the right way. And so, it was in this manner that the
Wolfe would always prove Little Red Riding Hood's lifelong
self-image to be wrong.
Because this naughty boy loved to cum.
The next morning, there was no Little Red Riding Hood returning
home, or the next day.
And on the third day of the lad's disappearance, Little Red's mother
and the Reverend made a trip out to the cottage. They could not find
any people in the rooms. After careful inspection, however, the two
adults found the boy's tired and weary grandmother locked up inside
But of the innocent, adorable boy they once knew, there was nothing
that remained except a tattered pair of rose pink, cum-stained
Moral: Children, especially attractive, well bred young
boys, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they
may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say wolf, but there are
various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming,
quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young
boys at home and in the streets and in the woods – wolves such as the one that is
this boy's new father, lover, and master for life.
And it is these gentler, clever wolves who are the most dangerous
ones of all.