Closet Stash  (M+b,nepi,infant,inc,full-intercourse,rape)

by Nate


STORY INTRO: Byron thinks his son stole his lighter. Looking through his 
             closet to find it, he discovers his son’s stash of hardcore 
             child porn and evidence that his other infant son is being 
             molested. There’s both shock and excitement as this stirs 
             dark thoughts inside of Byron.




“I love you too.” I mumbled past my comprehension of the flashing lights 
on the television. 

She walked out the door with the jingle of her purse and the waft of 
Chanel Number Five. 

God! After twenty years, my wife still managed to annoy the shit out of 
me! 

Baxter gurgled some playful baby sound on my knee. 

I bounced him on it. 

He was a cute little guy - the apple of my eye — if that’s what you call 
an infant you’re raping.

My feelings for children were always tense. I presumed it was a general 
disliking for them, but I know it now to have been a deep frustration 
from my subconscious sexual attraction to them. 

Babies were hot. 

Fucking a baby was hot! 

Today, I know this and live by it. But there were many years before I 
realized the utter bliss of the pedophile life. Those were cramped and 
aggravated years that I finally burst from when I was introduced to the 
world of baby sex through a few cutout porn pictures. 

It was on a regular day. 

My wife left for work. I watched television and stayed with the baby. 

At the time, he was just a week old - constantly needing help for 
literally everything. 

But he was a good little guy. 

If I had liked kids back then, he’d be the perfect kind. 

He was always happy, vocal, and smiling. And he almost never woke me 
up at night.

My name is Byron. I am a father to two boys - week-old Baxter and 
eight year old Carsten. 

Carsten had been a vicious toddler and a real trouble maker. Even at 
the age of eight, he was still a problem child. 

One night he had taken a bottle of vodka from the freezer and thrown it 
all up onto the carpet. 

If ever something went missing, he could be the presumed culprit. And 
that’s just what I thought when I went out onto the porch to smoke that 
day - only to realize my lighter was missing from the counter beside 
the grill. 

Carsten would probably burn the whole house down with it if I didn't 
find it before he got home from school.

I went into his room with toys scattered all over the floor. 

Looking among them, I didn't find the lighter. 

He was more of a malicious hider anyway. So I looked through his 
drawers and under things. I then went over to the closet and opened 
the door. Stuffed through it were dirty clothes and clean clothes 
mixed together in a pile on the floor. 

I dug into it and, sure enough, found the lighter underneath it all. 

Beside it was an envelope taken from my desk. 

Why did he need an envelope? 

I picked it up and gave its tattered sides a good stare.

Suddenly, I heard Baxter laughing to himself down the hall. I had put 
him in his crib hoping he’d nap, but the sun was too bright through 
his curtains. I yelled down the hall of the house...

“Just a minute buddy!”

I slid my index finger along the flap of the envelope and opened it. 

Oh my God!

Carsten was only eight years old. I thought of him as naive and 
childish - not someone who had any familiarity with the darker parts 
of the world. 

He was eight...my eight year old son!

Inside the envelope were a smash of scattered glossy pages: ripped-out 
magazine bits and Polaroid pictures from his birthday - gifted camera, 
and some black-and-white computer print outs on construction paper.

I picked up one of the paper scraps in curiosity. 

And...Oh my God, again?  Like...really — Oh My God! 

It was the picture of a red-skinned, extremely young, baby boy curled 
up in a defensive and crying ball, with white liquid leaking out of his 
anus - which was enormously stretched! 

I picked up another picture... 

A boy (about two years old) had tears running down his eyes as a huge, 
uncut cock was shoved down his throat. 

My child was looking at child porn! 

How did he get something so...!? 

Why did I let him use the computer so much!? 

How could something like this happen!? 

My thoughts were having a seizure.

“Dad. I’m home!” Carsten’s voice said at the front of the house over 
the rush of a departing school bus. 

Why now? 

Why my son? 

Why couldn't he just have pictures of boobs like a normal kid? 

Kiddie porn?!?

My soul dropped dead out of my brain and I couldn't think of 
anything rational to do. 

I just sat back on his bed. I didn't have the parental skills to 
respond to this. 

I dropped the picture in my hand down beside me. The closet door was 
still open. 

What now?

“Hey da...dad?” 

I was facing away from him, but I knew when his voice died off his 
eyes had seen the photos on the bed. 

“What’s that daddy?”

“Don’t Carsten. Don't do that. You know what it is.”

A silent second passed like the collapse of an empire. Then he was 
next to me with crocodile tears slipping down him. 

He looked me dead in the eye with his bloodshot gaze. 

“Dad...I’m sorry.” 

“Do you know what you’re sorry for?”

“For looking at bad pictures.”

“It’s not just that Carsten. I know you’re a kid, so it’s kind of 
different. But having pictures of naked children is very, very bad. 
It’s illegal, and you can go to jail for a really long time!”

“Don't send me to jail dad!”

“No son. But you need a lot of help. And we’ll have to talk to your 
mother.”

“No!”

“Carsten, shush! You’ve been very, very bad!” I stood up in a daze 
and rubbed my forehead. 

I walked over to the drawer and sighed. 

“Well...” I reached down to a random Polaroid picture. 

“No dad!” 

It was too late. 

The picture was a clean shot with no glare. 

It was a POV that had a rather small cut dick pressed against the 
split in a baby boy’s legs, poking his butt, threatening to penetrate 
it. The boy was facing the camera — a clear view of his entire body - 
including his bright and smiling head. 

It was my infant son, Baxter! 

“What the fuck is this!?”

“Dad. I just wanted to see what the p..."

“You raped your brother?!?”

“I didn't mean t..."

“You raped your own brother. He’s only a week old!”

“I didn't know it was bad.”

“Yes, you did! That’s why you hid the pictures! When did you do this!?”

“At night.”

“When!?”

“Last week.”

“What? You raped your brother before he was a week old!? A newborn! 
He’s your brother!”

“Daddy...”

“Don't call me daddy! How could you possibly..." I cut myself short to 
re-adjust my pants. Why was I so uncomfortable? 

I looked down... 

I was engorged with a throbbing erection! 

I was getting hard looking at pictures of my own son being molested. 

No! That couldn't be it...it’s just… I’m angry and emotional and... 

I kept lying to myself, but it was useless. I knew I was hard from 
looking at child porn...like a pedophile! 

I didn't want to be. 

The connotation alone was startling, but if I just admitted it...if I 
just gave in... 

Would I do something as drastic as to have sex with a newborn? Maybe 
an eight year old while I’m at it. 

My brain fired off a pop in my forehead and I lost all control of m
yself.

“Your own brother!” I screamed as I began ripping my underage son’s 
pants down and exposing his tight young ass. 

I was going to teach him a lesson! 

That’s the excuse I gave myself as I stood before the gate of the 
most taboo fantasy. 

As I plunged my meat - all thirteen inches in - he screamed like a 
little bitch. 

I began fucking him as aggressively as I could bare without being 
sadistic. I smacked him a couple times in the back of the head as I 
pounded his ass. It tightened his dick holster around me, each 
contraction welcoming another slap. 

He lay there with his head facedown, weeping into his pillow and 
banging his fists up and down into the mattress in a futile tantrum. 

It was invigorating from a dominance perspective — raping a boy I 
had known from the day of his birth. 

He was helpless now. 

But in life, he had been a deviant and far from innocent boy - and 
that didn't make the most erotic pedo fuck. I was just doing to him 
what he himself had done. But I wanted more power  —to give my 
aggression to someone undeserving just because I could. If I was 
going to be a pedophile, then I wanted a helpless, innocent child.

“Stay right there! You’ve been a bad boy.” I scolded him.

I slid off of him and left the room in a rush. I was eager to get 
back to my newfound depraved behavior.

When I returned to Carsten’s room, he had removed his shirt and was 
now completely naked - laying like a dead animal - crying on his bed. 
Little Baxter was giggling softly, stripped nude in my bare arms.

“This is your punishment Carsten. My dad did something similar to 
what I’m going to do when I was a kid. He caught me smoking and made 
me smoke until I was sick. You rape kids, so I’m going to make you 
rape your brother until you’re sick!”

I leaned down and kissed Baxter on the top of the head. 

“Ready to teach your bad brother a lesson?” The baby blew a spit 
bubble. 

“Yeah, you are.” Another kiss on his head as I sensually rubbed the 
smooth-skinned infant’s back. 

My dick stirred uncontrollably. I was getting hard. I mean — really, 
really hard.

“Hurry up then. Daddy’s horny.”

“What?”

“Fuck your baby brother’s ass!”

“Yes sir!” Carsten cried and sniffed. 

I couldn't hold back my grin — I couldn't hold back the river of 
precum making a stream down my leg.

Carsten took a split second to consider positioning and then lay 
down on his back, fully spread with his knees bent to expose his 
perineum, his belly bottom shadowed by his young little cock. It 
pointed with deadly aim. Too young to cum, but so perfectly shaped 
and dire to use his balls tight at the base of his shaft...totally 
hairless. 

I set Baxter down on his stomach. 

The baby laid there playfully, eager to see what would happen.

I couldn’t restrain myself. 

A normal man would have taken the time to appreciate the depraved sight
— the healthy and fit frame of my older son and the innocent, playful 
air around the soft, pudgy skin that wrapped my infant. But my brain 
had reverted to just its stem—primal and inexplicable urges. All of my 
synapses fired the same command: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I yanked Carsten’s legs up and exposed the hole I had given a slight 
reprieve. It was clearly in shock from the recent rape. It was engorged 
and blood red (though not bleeding, I can say with a clearer conscious). 
It has the slightest parting, a stretch remnant of its open state - 
like the space between the lips when you blow a kiss.

“I said hurry up!” I commanded my older son.

I grabbed his little boy dick and felt it hardening in my hand. It 
was ready in a matter of second... 

“Here we go!”

I lifted Baxter and dropped him straight onto his young brother's 
cock. It forced itself in with great resistance and filled the air 
with crying.

“Shush, Baxter. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s going to make it all better.” 

I sure was.

I rammed two fingers into Carsten’s boy pussy and twisted them around. 

He screamed and screamed. Baxter was startled by this and began to cry
even louder. 

It was like sweet music to me.

“Shut up and do your job! Fuck your brother!” 

I had forced an eight year old to have faggot sex with a newborn. I 
continued to twist my fingers and bend my knuckles inside of him while 
he begged me to stop. This just made me push them further in.

Finally, I was unable to deny my cock its pleasure. 

I sat on my ass and spread my legs above and around Carsten. I scooted 
up close to him and had my dick pressed against him. It was long and 
hard. Not to brag, but it was so long the tip was well above the 
insertion point on my baby. That’s just what I had hoped.

Leaning my chest forward I loomed over the two fuckers with my penis 
pressed firmly against the stomach of Baxter, the tip against his belly 
button. I could feel a tingling pleasure every time his stomach heaved 
to the rhythm of his wailing.

“Daddy’s here Baxter.” Were the last words I said before I completely 
destroyed my newborn son’s rectum. 

Like an angry animal, I began to buck wildly until the tip of my cock 
was pressed with full force against Carsten’s and at the lips of 
Baxter’s asshole! 

I pushed and I pushed...feeling the soft skin of my son stretch and 
spread until with one blood curdling yelp and a great pop I was inside 
of Baxter. Carsten looked down at his fucking in shock and stopped 
crying. 

Almost in awe, the boy who had a stash of child porn was marveling at a 
depraved sight likely never seen online. My son and I were 
double-penetrating an infant.

I rammed my entirety in with my pubic bush making sweet embraces with 
Baxter’s anus and Carsten’s shaft. 

The orgy was a mix of orgastic sensations. 

I was hooked on kid sex! 

I soaked in the sensation of completely filling the newborn. My one son 
was a slut and the other was a pedophile. It was all incestuous and 
depraved and I had to lift my head up and sigh with joy.

I slowly retracted my dick... 

Pow! I shoved it back in. 

It was so tight, I could hardly believe it. Each move in and out taking 
all my strength. The inside was slightly slick with natural intestinal 
lining and whatever the destroyed hole was secreting. It tickled the 
nerve cells in my penis and made my whole body shiver in erotic delight. 

I was rubbing Carsten’s cock and urethra raw with my pumping.

My newborn screeched and shook his head back and forth. It looked 
pathetic and epileptic. A cry was a rare sound for such a happy baby.

“Daddy!” yelled Carsten, bucking back into my pounding.

I was cheering for my son as he raped my other kid. 

“Fuck your brother’s cunt!” I smacked Baxter on the back. 

“You sure have a tight ass!” 

I had never felt so good before.

My whole body convulsed and I pulled both my boys into me as both me and 
Carsten sank full pelvis into the hole. Our balls pressed together as 
mine tightened to match his naturally tight sack. I was on the verge of 
an orgasm. 

So I voided myself fully. 

It was thick, mature, middle-aged seed: like a cap on a soda bottle the 
first jet of seed was thick and spread my cum slit wide to deliver the 
rest of the load. It hit hard past the internal sphincter and curved 
down the side alley of his deeper intestines. 

Then the second shot fired. 

It was a long strand that splattered into dozens of smaller droplets - 
coating his rectum and bathing my dick, still buried deep inside my son. 

Another shot...then another! 

The pressure of the shots was dropping but the volume was not. I was 
leaking a river of fertile semen to flow the length of my son’s 
insides. It was the best cum of my life. And as the orgasm dominated my 
thoughts the memories of my son flashed through my mind. I saw myself 
holding him in my arms for the first time when he was born, just last 
week. 

I was overcome with love and care, mixed with the violence and dominance 
of my fuck, and collapsed down where I was, glued to my son by cock and 
ass! 

My other son’s dick was smashed into mine, encased in cum.

I kissed the baby on the head and mumbled loving father things into his ear.

 “Shhh...Shhh. It’s okay, Baxter. Daddy and big brother are here. We love
you, Baxter. We love you.”

I smiled in elation and snuggled into my older son’s side - knowing he was 
making love to his brother. It was beautiful and right. I was astoundingly 
right — my true nature finally free. I was connected to my two sons by the 
very seed that made them.

With reluctance and tiredness, I slid out from the bloody opening and stood 
up off the bed. I walked to my son’s dresser. He watched me with his 
pricklet still buried in ass. I picked up his Polaroid camera and faced the 
bed. 

“Smile for your dad, boys.”

Carsten smiled into the lens and Baxter cried away. 

I snapped the shot and took the picture for myself. 

“How does if feel, Carsten?”

“It...it feels good, daddy. Is that bad?”

“No, son. It’s supposed to feel good.”

He had his entire cock length shoved past where anything should fit in the 
infant’s frail body. He began to pump his little boy hips, smashing against 
the baby’s insides and making himself dizzy. Baxter started a moment of 
silence as his head waved back and forth. The pain was converting to 
numbness and nauseousness. 

I watched the rape of an infant cunt! 

The baby’s hole was bloody, stretched, and completely ruined. 

He kept enduring the dick, in and out, like a little trooper - powerless to 
stop it. 

“Daddy!” Carsten began shuddering. I knew he was experiencing a little boy 
orgasm. 

“Good boy son! I love you son!”

He let out a moan that rumbled in my belly with its deep utterance. It was 
the sound of some ancient lust that had lived inside of him since birth - 
finally free to come to the light. 

The sound held steady as he jutted his entire pelvis up - lifting himself 
off of the bed and making the distinction between where he ended and 
Baxter started unrecognizable. 

I snapped another photo. 

“You two are such wonderful boys.” I complimented them. 

And it had been a wonderful day.

“Do you still have to tell mom?” asked Carsten.

“No. This will be our secret.”

Later that night, I was waiting in bed for my wife to hurry up with the 
forty-five minutes of whatever it is women do before going to bed. 

I slipped a Polaroid picture out from my nightstand and looked at the 
developed photo. 

My two sons, the lights of my life, together in intimacy. 

I put the picture away and sighed in content just as my wife got into bed.

“Honey,” I said.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking about it, and...I think that I want to have another baby.”


THE END

COMMENTS? E-mail:  nateyork51@gmail.com

NOTE: More baby / toddler stories like this can be found in the 
      Nepi Stories Collection located at:  www.asstr.org