Kasyn, the Spunk-Prince

Over the next few days, my new young husband became very familiar with his other stepsons...

Shy Phobos was the next to take the paddle against his ass—and Kasyn’s cock inside it. Kasyn let me know that he felt that Phobos had perpetrated an offense that required a paddling, but he asked me to adjudicate the matter since Phobos, in an unusually strident defense of himself, insisted that he’d done nothing improper. So I listened.

Kasyn informed me that he had asked Phobos to give Kasyn his first morning load of cum. “I told him that I wanted it for breakfast, but when I went to his room, he was clearly startled and embarrassed I immediately saw why: his belly was still spattered with his own jizz. He had just jacked himself all the way off seconds before I arrived! Of course I licked his belly clean of his sperm, but I had wanted it fresh, directly from his balls, and he deliberately defied me. I relieved some of my own frustration inside his cunt immediately, but I think his disobedience requires the paddle.”

“But, Father!” cried Phobos. “You have taught us all our lives that the most healthy and decent thing a boy can do is to jack off. Surely I cannot be expected to deny myself forever. Kasyn—Daddy—was quite late for our morning meeting!” I did not mention that Kasyn’s tardiness was probably caused in part by me, by the fact that I’d decided to fuck a second load into my husband this morning before sending him off to see Phobos. Of the many reasons that boys are not considered in our land to be “men” until their thirtieth birthdays, perhaps foremost among them is that they tend to be next to worthless for anything but sexual pleasure— for themselves and for other men and boys. My son’s smooth pretty face, his big dark eyes so earnest in his pleading, rather melted my heart. But I said, “Six strikes will be in order!”

“Father!” Phobos gasped. “Is that not a bit much for simply doing what is most natural to me in my own bed in the early morning?”

“I’ll add a seventh if you continue to talk back to me, boy!” I said. Kasyn grinned and hefted the paddle. “I understand,” I said, softening my tone a bit, “that it is unusual for you to have a new stepfather, and one that is only about a year older than you are, but you will respect his station in the household. If he asks you for your morning cum, you can certainly keep your hands off your cock and hold your juice inside for just a few more minutes until he takes it.” I ordered the boy to strip.

Forlornly, Phobos obeyed, shedding first his tight waistcoat and then his skirt and then his black jockstrap. Naked, the youth took his position, hands against the bar, leaning forward, the bulges of his ass tightened against the coming blows. 

Phobos has always made the most possible drama of these punishments, and he did so this time perhaps even more stridently, howling at the crack of the first strike, wailing and sobbing throughout. I did not think that Kasyn was actually hitting Phobos’s ass any harder than I would have, and I think he may even have used a lighter touch than he had with Daemon, but Phobos—perhaps the most sensitive of my five sons—cried as if every paddle-strike were killing him. 

“That was six,” Kasyn said, after the final blow. “All done now, sweetheart.” And I was touched at how tenderly he embraced the lad, how he kissed his lips and pawed away his tears with his fingers. “Come now,” Kasyn said. “Let us be friends again and let me show that you I do love you very much.” He took Phobos by the hand and led him to my bed. “Lie here with Daddy, pretty boy.”

“Ow!” Phobos yelped as he dropped his ass to the sheet. “It still hurts, Daddy!”

Kasyn grinned and shucked off his harness and his briefs. His long thick prick stood upright, and I imagined that his giant nuts looked even more swollen than usual in their tight hairless sack. “It won’t for long, baby boy,” and Kasyn hopped onto the bed. He pressed Phobos down onto his back and encouraged him spread his legs and to raise his knees. He inspected as if with great concern the livid redness of Phobos’s rump. “I’ll kiss it,” he purred, “and make it better.”

I shed my clothes and stood next to the bed, watching them play, and I masturbated while Kasyn spread Phobos’s stinging cheeks and pressed his lips against the boy’s pucker, and probed into it with his tongue. Phobos gasped and moaned and said, “That does feel better!”

The rimjob went on for some time, which did not surprise me: Kasyn loves licking assholes. He’d had his mouth on mine last night for longer than anyone else ever had before. At one point he rose his head and turned toward me and said, “I think I can still taste myself inside him, from earlier. My cum is still inside his slot.” He waved me closer. “You want a taste, Kyler?”

I bent forward and Kasyn held Phobos’s peach-cleft open for me and I pressed my mouth against his hole, and I tasted first Kasyn’s spit and my son’s funk, but then I did detect a faint note of that strange sweetness of my new husband’s seed. An urge to fuck them both swamped through my body, but I withdrew and let Kasyn continue his play.

After a couple more minutes, Kasyn lifted his face from Phobos’s ass, rose to his knees and spread the boy’s legs a bit more and lifted his ass further. Kasyn’s cock drooled. The pucker of foreskin that overtook his wide head even when his dick was at full erection let loose a glistening strand of juice, not clear like pre-jac but white as semen and I’d wondered if he’d cum already, but then he pressed his knob against Phobos’s hole and in, and in harder, and the boy cooed under Kasyn, thrilling to this penetration by his young stepfather

Kasyn’s clenching asscheeks were finally too much for me and I got onto the bed behind him. I hawked a bunch of spit into my palm and slicked my dong with it and pushed my knob against his hole. He cried out a loud “oh, Kyler!” and he pressed all the way into Phobos and then I jammed Kasyn hard, all the way, balls-deep into his cunt. The three of us rocked together like this for a couple minutes until Kasyn, unable to hold back any longer, screamed that he was going to lose his nut, and then he did, once more creaming out inside Phobos’s gut.

I withdrew from Kasyn’s twat and rolled him over onto his back next to Phobos. I stood on the mattress over them, my feet straddling both boys’ thighs, and I finished myself off with my hand. “Eyes open!” I ordered and the boys obeyed when I rained down jets of cocksnot onto both their faces. 

Kasyn got to his knees and palmed my jizz from Phobos’s face and his own and smeared it over Phobos’s stiff prick. He straddled the boy and slid Phobos’s between his thighs and into his cunt. Phobos, was evidently surprised at this turn: “Daddy! You are letting me inside you!” 

“Of course, you cute dumb fuck!” said Kasyn. “We need to get some more cum out of you somehow, don’t we, baby?” He bounced on Phobos, making the kid gasp and cry. “And I am always happy when I have some stiff meat in my hole. Ask Kyler! He knows!”

“It’s true,” I said. “Mine was inside him twice this morning already.”

Sweet Phobos is usually moved to tears by the intense pleasure of his own cock, by his own wild and powerful orgasms. He usually cries during sex, almost always when he is cumming, and I have even watched him on the aetherglass, jacking off alone and sobbing out his cum, hips bucking wildly and his long slender dick squirting semen two or three meters into the air, and all the while tears stream from his eyes. This time, with his cock embedded in Kasyn’s snatch, was no different. My son’s eyes flowed as his fucked out his spunk into my husband. When he was done, and the full-body spasms of his shuddering sweaty climax had abated, he laughed and thanked Kasyn for such a thrilling fuck. Kasyn bent low and kissed the boy’s mouth, drooling his spit into it. He said, “Any time, baby. Seriously: any time!”

My eldest daughter, Spathe, sent me a message asking that I visit her in her chambers. She said that I need to become aware of something about her pregnancy by Kasyn, and those of her sisters.

“The witch thinks it’s do with Kasyn’s spunk,” Spathe said, passing a hand over the obvious swell in her belly. This is what she meant by “something”: she was only a few days pregnant and was already showing the bulge of the baby forming inside her womb.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you know that it is unusually thick and sweet?” she said. “I’m sure you’ve had it in your mouth by now.” She said this with that typical arrogant sneer that she often takes with me, as if I am not her father but rather an older brother that she does not much respect.

I’d sucked out the boy’s nut in the wedding chapel and first noticed this then, but I did not share that detail with my daughter.

Spathe continued, “The witch thinks it has something to do with this supernatural speed at which our pregnancies proceed. Why, Kyler, did you select him in particular to be our sperm donor?”

I was already feeling exasperated with this inquiry. “The fucking witch herself told me that I needed to do this! To find a father for your children! And when I found Kasyn it somehow felt correct. And it was! He is fucking spectacular!”

“Perhaps.” Spathe reclined on her chaise and sipped from a huge mug of jasoom maté. I wondered how much she’d had already, so glazed were her eyes. “But the witch says she wishes to examine Kasyn’s nuts.”

I laughed. “She’ll do no such fucking thing!”

“Why are you so weirdly possessive of him, Kyler? If the witch had asked to look at any of your sons’ balls, you'd have handed the boys right over to her.”

“She has examined your brothers’ balls, if you must know. It’s part of the reason that you are not carrying one of their pups right now!”

Spathe laughed and then chugged the rest of her drink. “As if I’d actually let any of my little faggot brothers put their dirty dongs anywhere near me! Surely, Kyler, you never even considered it!”

“I did!” I reached for a glass and a bottle of white wine and poured it to the rim. “But it was not the correct option!”

“Oh my god, Father! The very thought makes my skin crawl, any one of those creepy boys humping me, their sweaty, smelly skin against mine! I’m sure they are nice playthings for you and your new husband. And they are kind young men, but physically I think they are wholly atrocious.”

Ridiculous, I thought. How are they any worse than Kasyn or the kinds of boys that Spathe does like to fuck? I said, “I am sure all five of them would feel similarly about the idea of fucking you, my daughter.” She replied with a rude gesture. “And if it had come to that, we’d have had to give them a drug to force their erections. I was surprised I did not have to do that Kasyn but he is evidently ready and willing to fuck literally anyone.”

Spathe nodded. “He’s an exciting lover.  And a lot more intelligent than my brothers who are little more than walking, talking life support systems for cocks and balls and assholes. At least we can agree on that! But this business with the witch won’t go away, nor will this thing that Kasyn put in my belly. You need to speak with the witch.”

I agreed that I’d do so, but not until I had mulled over this situation more deeply.

On the way back toward my level of the compound, I passed through the kitchen and found working in there that same chef whose extended playtime with Daemon had gotten my son spanked a few days earlier. This lad’s skin—so bronzed as to be almost coppery red—worked at his table clad only in his apron and his sandals and the view of his fat bare bubble-ass stiffened my prong as I approached him from behind. He sensed me and spun around and said, blushing, “Kyler! I must apologize!”

“For what?” I gripped my cock through my shorts.

“I know that it is my fault that Prince Daemon got in trouble the other day and was given the paddle for it!”

I laughed and drew close to the young cook. “He should not have complained to you about it. It was his offense. That he told you may even earn him further whacks with the paddle.”

The lad gaped, wide-eyed, and cried, “Oh please do not punish him again! I am sorry! I spoke out of turn. If more punishment is required, please give it to me instead!”

I almost wished I’d had the paddle with me, so tempting were his smooth bare buttocks. 

“I don’t have the paddle handy,” I said, “but I have this.” I unbuttoned my shorts and let them drop to the floor. I stepped out them, kicked them to the side and pointed my swollen tool at him. “Let me take my pleasure in your slot right now and we will forget all about Daemon’s infractions.”

“Yes, Kyler!” The chef removed his apron and bent forward over his table, inviting me to hump his ass. I selected a fat pink jerkfruit from a bowl on his work table, perfectly ripe, its skin sticky to the touch. With a paring knife, I carved a hole into its blossom end, spilled out some of its purple-black seed-pulp onto the table, and pushed my dick into it. When I  withdrew my rigid meat, it was coated in slick glistening and glittery jerkfruit jelly, a perfect lube to loosen a young fuck’s slot. As I dick-hammered the cook’s cock-chute, I fed him bits of the fruit’s flesh and pulp and he ate hungrily from my sticky fingers. After a few minutes of this vigorous ass-pounding, and after the boy had eaten most of the fruit, I let loose my seed into his gut. I withdrew my prick from his hole, turned him to face me and kissed him for a few moments, licking jerkfruit juice from his lips and tongue. The boy’s purple-headed knob was so stiff it stood upright almost to his navel. Not wanting to leave him with blueballs, I dropped to my knees and sucked his pole into my mouth, all the way into my throat, my nose buried in his sweat-funky pubes, and my wet sucking brought him off in a less than a minute. His cocksnot was the flavor and texture of a normal boy’s, not nearly so sweet and thick and Kasyn’s.

Though she doesn’t look it, Magran, the nektonic witch, is at least a century old, and has been plying her trade among my family for most of that time. She has always looked about like she does now: perhaps forty or fifty years old, dressed in a conservative business suit like one might see on a Banking Guild woman, platinum hair pulled back in a severe bun. “We may be at an important juncture, Kyler,” she says, taking a seat in the high-backed leather-clad chair across the desk from me. 

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” I said, “but first you’ll answer a question or two.”

She smiled, sipped at her wine, said nothing in reply. She wore today that same smug smile that she always wore. I remember her looking exactly like this so many year ago when she and my father decided that I should sire Spathe when I was still a barely-pubescent boy. She’d fed me a mug of sweet nektonic tea and left me alone in my bedroom. She’d not warned me that the tea would make my body loose and pliable, that it would make me slightly drowsy, and that it would force my penis to stay stiff for hours. Another witch—a girl much younger than Magran but still much older than me—came to my room, pulled me into my bed and raped me, twice forcing the seed from my nuts. A couple days later, I learned that I’d impregnated this woman and a few months later my daughter Spathe was born. I felt humiliated and betrayed by the way this had been forced upon me, but my father insisted that I accept my role and to continue to respect the machinations of the witches. Five years later, my father was dead, and Magran again required me to breed, this time plying me with prophetic interpretations of her Cards of Cthugha as they related to my new princedom over our great house. Again I was unwilling but I allowed her to repeat drugging me with the tea and, over two days, I sired upon two witch women two more daughters, Nox and Charon. 

I said, “You have led my daughters to believe that their pregnancies by Kasyn are proceeding abnormally. Why? What’s your game now?”

She sipped her wine and laughed. “They are obviously abnormal! At this rate, they will give birth in a week! We have never seen anything like it.”

“But I suspect that you knew that something strange would happen. Stop with the subterfuge, Magran. What is really happening here?”

“You’ve always been smarter than you look, Kyler.” She rose from her seat, stepped over to the bar and refilled her glass. “It was a gamble, but it may pay off. Your daughters will soon birth sons, who may be what we call ‘trans-aetheric freaks,’ boys with extraordinary abilities of clairvoyance and psychic power.”

I stared at her for a moment, dumfounded by the patent ridiculousness of this notion. And yet a creeping tendril of fear wound through my gut, and I felt as if I would need to take a shit. But I regained control and said, “And if they are, then what happens?”

“It will depend on what path their abilities take. They will either be pliable and trainable…or they will be what we consider to be abominations—very dangerous!”

“In what way!”

“We cannot see in the Cards all of the possible courses yet. In any case, Kasyn should be castrated so that he cannot breed again. A vasectomy won’t suffice as he could one day reverse it. Ball-removal is a fairly simple procedure. I can give you the instructions and you can perform it upon him yourself if you wish.”

She is insane! I thought. If she imagines that I would ever allow Kasyn to be deprived of those huge fantastic nuts, the very organs that make it possible for him to be the best fuck I have ever had in my life—the best of all the literally thousands of males I have boned!—then she is completely crazy. But I decided to keep my reply more moderate: “It would be premature to take such action. We’ll see first what happens when these freak-boys are born.”

“I can’t force you to castrate him—not yet anyway,” she said. “But you must at the very least ensure that he impregnates no one else in the meantime.”

“Of course he won’t!” This would hardly be a difficult restriction to impose. While Kasyn will fuck a female if told to do so, none even live in the compound save for my three already-pregnant daughters, as I purposely staff the place only with young gay males. Between me, my sons, and the household staff, Kasyn will find plenty of sex to keep himself satisfied. And if somehow even that is not enough action for his drippy cock and hungry ass, he can always visit the pleasure grotto where work a few dozen catamites and where there is a steady stream of men in and out it paying for their services. “We’ll let this matter rest for now, Magran.”

“For now,” she agreed.

I decided to call Blue Radical to question him in more detail on the modifications that he’d made to Kasyn’s body before selling him to me. I summoned him by way of the aetherglass. He came into focus and I saw that he was seated in a ratty rattan chaise, and in the background behind him was a low-slung bed in which a naked white-skinned youth appeared to sleep, a stained pillow hugged to his chest. 

“I sent along his records,” Blue Radical said. “It’s all in there.”

“I wonder if it is,” I said. “Kasyn’s report says that you performed an ‘exotic’ modification to his nuts, but you don’t specify what ‘exotic' means.”

“Just a slightly different technique than usual, but I don’t think it really worked.”

“What didn’t work!”

Blue Radical leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if taking care to not disturb the sleeping boy behind him. “I used a new ingredient,” he said, “the seminiferous tubules of a trans-aetheric gay punk poltergeist.”

“A what!” I yelled. “Say that one more time!”

He started saying “a trans-aetheric gay punk poltergeist” again but I cut him short. I said, “There’s no such goddamned fucking thing! It’s a myth! Don’t fuck with me, Blue!”

“Shhh!” hissed Blue Radical, stabbing backward with a thumb toward the sleeping lad. “Hang on a sec. Let me move this call to my office!” He blanked the screen and then, after a moment, reappeared, now seated at his desk. He resumed: “Yes, they do exist! One was captured in an aether bottle by an exorcist at the Academy Dhalgren. That’s an elite all-male boarding school in the City of Cock-Metal.”

“I am aware of it.” I was fast losing patience with this nonsense. 

“Anyway, this punk poltergeist rampaged through the place and somehow in a single night raped every single boy in that school while they slept. There were over a thousand victims, somehow all taken at once!”

“Ridiculous!”

Blue Radical shook his head rapidly. “You’re so wrong, Kyler. Their doctor swabbed from many of these boys’ rectums a substance, a kind of plasma, like a poltergeist semen-analog. The poltergeist fucking jizzed in their holes! So they summoned a Cthulhist exorcist who managed to seduce the thing. The exorcist himself was raped by this being—nearly killed by it!—but he still managed to trick it into the bottle. Later, the specimen was distilled into various kinds of aetheric tissue. I happened to acquire a substance that is best described as the testicular tissue of a poltergeist.”

I wasn’t sure how reasonably to respond any further to this nonsense. I said, “And you somehow implanted this ‘tissue’ into Kasyn’s nuts?” A chill passed through me when I thought of his uncommonly sweet semen.

“I did! But it really didn’t do anything. The end result was about the same as any other nut-enhancement I’ve done. He's horny as fuck all the time, and he can sometimes cum like a knotting wolf, but not really any more so than any other boy I’ve fixed up.” Blue Radical peered at me. “What’s going on, Kyler? Is there, uh, something wrong with Kasyn?”

I wasn’t sure I even wanted to share any of this with Blue Radical, but I decided he could be useful to me later depending on how this situation developed. I said, “He has knocked up my daughters, as per my plan, but these pregnancies are moving along far faster than normal. A nektonic witch thinks that Kasyn’s sperm has caused this acceleration.”

“Oh wow!” Blue Radical sat back in his seat and whistled and lit a cigarette. “That’s some heavy shit, man! But you gotta be careful of these witches! Fucking nektonic witches! They can be bad news!”

“I am well aware of that.”

Said Blue: “Don’t let the witch anywhere near that kid’s balls!”

“That will not happen.”

Blue Radical leaned forward again, blowing smoke at the screen. The aether pulled some it through to me and it smelled like the rankest ditch-weed. Blue Radical said, “But until you see what’s going on with these pregnancies, maybe don’t let him get anyone else pregnant, okay?”

“No,” I said. “There’s no chance of that.”

“And call me back once the pups are born!”

“I will,” I said and ended the call. I wondered what else he knows that he did not share with me. 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, Kasyn and my son Dak have taken a day-trip into the Inner Village to get drunk and cruise for sex among the working-class men and boys of that vibrant yet fetid district…

The boys sit at a table on a street-side patio outside a fag bar, empty lunch plates and a few drained beer glasses on the table between them. A harness-clad server, legs dressed in fish-net stockings drops off two more pints for them. Kasyn slips off his sandal and extends his leg under the table. He presses his bare foot into Dak’s crotch, playing with the lad’s erection through his pants. “Where shall we find some fucks?” he wonders. “What might you be into today?”

Dak grins, reaches under the table and massages Kasyn’s foot and presses his stiff dick against it. He opens his fly, fishes out his dong and rubs its pre-cum-slimy head against the sole of Kasyn’s foot. “Other than you, I think I see something perfect for us right over there!” He points to another cafe across the street where about a dozen strange-looking boys have taken seats around several small tables.

“What are those!” wonders Kasyn. These boys all have nearly lavender skin, almost all of it exposed by their scanty attire. Their hair is thick and lush and dark green and seems to be made of tiny leaves. “They’re beautiful!”

“You’ve never seen any before?” says Dak. “They are orchid boys. They’re from the Moon. They must be here on a spring break or something.”

“Orchid boys! What are they like?”

“Generally, like huge sluts. Or so I hear. I bet they are looking for sex with ‘normal’ boys like us.”

“You think they’ll fuck us?” Kasyn is so thrilled at the idea of boning these weird Moon boys that he rubs on his hard-on and nearly makes himself ejaculate in his shorts.

“I think we should at least find out!” Dak grins and squeezes Kasyn’s foot. “There’s a chance, though, that if they let us stick our dicks in their holes that they might want us to put on rubbers, so we may have to get some at the pharmacia.”

“Rubbers!” Kasyn is baffled. “Why the fuck would they want that?”

“Because,” Dak says, “orchid boys can get pregnant.”

To be continued…