GOOD BOYS DON’T TOUCH THEIR PECKER

WARNING: this story contains rape, incest, physical and mental torture of an underage male character by an adult male character,
This is a work of pure fiction.
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Little Fred was crying himself to sleep in his cage.
Though he couldn't remember a night in his short 5 years that didn't end in tears, it was different now, because he knew it would be his last night.

Daddy had warned him so many times: "Don't touch your pecker". Again and again, all his life.
But lately he had been wondering... Daddy touched his own pecker all the time, or made him touch it, or pushed it in his mouth or butt.
And all the friends father had invited over did the same.
It had hurt him, each and every time, but for them it must've felt nice, why else would they keep doing it?
Eventually his curiosity had taken over. His right hand had moved down to his sheath, careful to avoid the wounds from the whip that were still healing from a few days before.
Almost instantly a little red tip had emerged from the sheath. He had seen it many times with daddy and his friends, often he had been made to move his little tongue around it. Fred had licked the thumb on his left paw and had moved it down as well, rotating it around the tip, to simulate licking.
When the rest of his young penis emerged, Fred had to suppress the memory of 2 years earlier: His cock had popped out when daddy’s hyena friend had put a finger up his butt. Daddy had been very angry, using a cane to hit his young little dick again and again, until it had retreated into its sheath. He had then used the belt on his but for over an hour, and though he had been beaten every day of his life, that one spanking had stayed with him, together with the shame of his sinful pecker getting hard.
But the shame had been washed away by the ecstasy of stimulating his little dick. His right hand was now rubbing the red husky cock, while his left hand had moved down to his balls, gently caressing them. He had been in so much pleasure, he hadn’t noticed he had started moaning, louder and louder, as he felt something building up.
Before the build-up could be released, his father had stormed into the room, turned on the lights to see his son pleasuring himself. He had opened the cage, grabbed the young husky by the neck, and landed a punch right in his face, making him lose consciousness.

When he had woken up, he had been tied up in his cage, his arms and legs uselessly tied to his body, and a gag inside his mouth.
The look of disgust in his father’s eyes was palpable, though his voice sounded neutral.
“You have one rule in your wretched life: ‘obey’, and you can’t even do that. Tomorrow I’ll dispose of you, as I did your brother.”
With that he turned of the lights and left the room.
Fear had washed over him like fire. He had been too young to really know his brother, all he remembered were the screams and the blood when father had killed him.
Fear turned to tears until exhaustion finally took over. Tonight was his last night, and tomorrow he would die.

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When Fred woke up, he was surprised he was no longer in his cage, he had been tied to an x-cross while unconscious. An injection had woken him up.
His father’s angry eyes stared into his soul.
“You are useless”, he said, “useless, pathetic and sinful. You are going to die in absolute agony, but the pain I’m about to unleash isn’t even half of what you really deserve.”
A slap from the back of his hand woke him up completely,
“First things first though, the reason for your execution…”
His father moved his hand to his little balls, as gentle as Fred had caressed them the night before, so ungentle did his father started to squeeze them. It wasn’t the first time they had been tortured, but never to any permanent damage, now the pressure was just increasing, more than ever before. At the same time both his little balls popped between his father’s fingers, sending shocks of pain through his body, which spasmed as much as it could in its restrains. If his tummy hadn’t been empty, he would’ve thrown up.
His father didn’t wait for Fred to stop shuddering to push his cock up his clenched ass.
“I should’ve done this years ago, you haven’t been this tight since you were 2”.
Having been fucked every day of his life, he was no stranger to the feeling of a large canine (or other) cock up his butt, but as his muscles had tightened due to the pain of his crushed balls, a new wave of pain hit him.

Something quite unexpected happened next, while his father was humping his preteen husky tailhole, he started rubbing his sheath, as Fred had done the previous night.
“This is why you deserve to die, this is why you deserve to suffer, this is your sin”.
Fred couldn’t stop his cock from emerging from the sheath, but there was no pleasure now, only shame and pain.
From a nearby table, his father took a thick metal rod with a very rough exterior, like that of a knife sharpener. He also grabbed for a piece of ginger. Fred knew from experience how much ginger could sting, having had a piece up his butt a few times during spankings.
His father rubbed the rod over the piece of ginger, the rough exterior shredding it to pieces.
With the rod still dripping with the ginger juices, he pushed it straight up his peehole. Fred felt the texture cutting the inside of his sinful cock as his father moved it up and down, in the same rhythm as he was fucking his butt. The ginger wasted no time burning into the wounds.
Fred’s eyes lost focus on his father’s angry face, instead trying to look beyond, trying to escape the pain, but their was end to his suffering. By now Fred was just hoping it would be over soon.
He felt his father’s knot swelling, and the warm sensation of cum being shot up his butt. In the past his dad and friends would say he had been a good little cumdump, but not now. His father just pulled out his knot, letting the cum leak from his ruined tailhole, onto the floor.

Fred’s thousand yard stare was interrupted when his left eye was being held open, and he focused his vision on his father’s cock, still dripping with cum, now right in front of his face.
Without warning a stream of dark yellow piss streamed into his eye. Unable to close it to protect from the salty urine, tears formed, but from where, Fred didn’t know, he thought he had already cried all the tears he had left.
With blurry vision and never ending pain, he hadn’t noticed his father had stopped pissing and had instead started stroking his right hand, tied up above at one of the ends of the x-cross.
“Good boys don’t touch their peckers”, he said surprisingly gentle, but his face instantly turned back to hate as he broke his index finger.
“Good boys don’t touch their peckers!”, he said more angrily, and broke his middle finger,
“GOOD BOYS”, he shouted, now breaking his ring finger. “DON’T TOUCH THEIR PECKER!”, and he broke his pinky.
Each new torture opened a new level of agony Fred had never even imagined.
I wanna die, he thought, I deserve to die, just make it stop, just make it stop.
It didn’t even register to him when he fell to the floor after being untied.
His father picked him of the ground by the fur on his head.
A punch in his face made him refocus on the terror his father was inflicting upon him. Normally a hit like that would’ve made him pass out, but the injection that had woken him up must’ve been keeping him conscious.
Another punch hit him, and then another, as Fred could feel bones in his face break. Some teeth came loose, trapped in his mouth by the gag he had been wearing since last night.

His father dropped him back onto the floor. There was no reason to tie him back up for the end, his mind and body both broken.
Fred felt his father’s paw resting on his head.
“Goodbye, you’ve been a worthless son, nobody will miss or mourn you, I wish I would’ve made you suffer more, but I have more important things to do than spend more time on a pathetic whore like you”.
The weight of his father’s paw started crushing the young cub’s skull. Fred’s final thoughts being I deserved this, I am nothing, but it’s finally over.

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Fred suddenly felt wide awake. Had it just been a dream, a horrible dream?
He tried to move but couldn’t. In fact, he couldn’t feel his body at all.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see faint flames in the distance.
A dark figure in red robes approached him.
Fred tried to ask where he was, but couldn’t speak.
The figure spoke to him in a deep voice:
“You have been a sinful dog. Good boys don’t touch their pecker.”
The pain of his slow execution returned to his body, but increased even more. Fred tried to scream, but their were voice nor mouth to scream with.
“Welcome to your eternity of suffering. Your pain has not even begun, and will never ever cease.”
Fred knew he deserved his punishment in Hell for touching himself and being such a disappointment to his father, as endless dimensions of agony opened up to him...