Doctor Lyndon waited somewhat impatiently in his office. Time always seemed to take forever when he was waiting for a 'special' session to start. The office was empty on Saturday mornings, and the quiet pushed his anticipation up to cock leaking levels. With a sigh, he reviewed the case paperwork on his desk.
Four weeks ago, Paul's drugged out, fucked up dad had been arrested for fucking the little seven-year-old and bragging about it within earshot of an undercover drug cop. The dad got twenty to life, and Paul got court-ordered therapy for the abuse. Doctor Lyndon smirked. Since when was it 'abuse' for a boy to take what he was meant for. And the court ordered. What a laugh. The family court judge was an old friend of his, and there was nothing Judge Franklin liked more than a tape of one of the 'special' sessions. The judge would order the boys into therapy and place them where he knew they wouldn't get much attention and no questions. With the judge personally supervising the case, Doctor Lyndon providing intensive therapy and Doctor Jacob doing all the required medical exams the chosen boys could be put to their best possible use for however long the men liked. When they were done with the little fucktoys, there was always a waiting list of producers looking for their next video star. The judge would approve an out-of-area adoption and case closed.
A knock at the door pulled Doctor Lyndon from his thoughts. Thankfully, the hurried foster mom opened the door herself because tailored slacks only hid so much. The graying blonde babbled on about errands and picking the boy up in an hour, and Doctor Lyndon was all smiles, assurances and nodding until she patted the boy on the shoulder and rushed out as quickly as she came in. Finally, the doctor could lock the door and focus solely on his newest client.
Paul was slight for seven years old. Thin legs with knobby knees were sticking out from under the tiny, blue shorts. Slender hands twisted into the hem of the striped t-shirt and the scruffy tennis shoes shifted as the silence continued. Nervous green eyes looked up through the sandy brown bangs. He had a pretty face with soft, pale skin and pouty, pink lips. As the doctor watched, the boy sucked his lower lip in, and it popped out reddened and slightly swollen. Lyndon shifted as his cock pressed firmly against his front zipper. He could already see those lips wrapped around his cock, his hands tangled in that too long hair as he fed his cum down that hot, clutching throat. The little hands would be pushing futilely against his hips, the eyes looking up all panicked and teary. Oh, he could cum just thinking about it, but what fun would that be?
"Welcome to my office, Paul. I'm Doctor Lyndon. You may call me Doctor or Sir. Come sit down."
The doctor led the boy to the chair in front of his desk and then sat back in his own chair. Being behind the desk was best for the first session. Sometimes this was his favorite part. He watched the small boy climb into the oversized leather chair. Even though all his clients were children, Doctor Lyndon never went with the miniature furniture some child therapists liked. A lot of the 'special' boys felt even more vulnerable in the big chairs, and the leather seemed to always be cold. Also, the effect on film was impressive. The doctor never remembered to mention it, hah, but every corner of the office was covered by video. Later, carefully edited for full effect, the tapes would be available to the men who made the special sessions possible and also sold to fund some of the 'special' field trips the group took.
"So, Paul, can you tell me why you're here today?"
Always start with a comforting smile. The boy wiggled uncomfortably, eyes on his hands twisting in his shirt again. His short legs didn't touch the floor even when he sat on the edge of the seat.
"The judge said I need to come here because of what Daddy did, sir."
The soft voice and downcast eyes had Lyndon's cock dribbling in his pants. He leaned on his desk and looked firmly at the boy.
"Paul, look at me."
Big green eyes peeked up at him.
"We'll be talking a lot, just you and me. We're going to talk a lot about you and your father and I know you might not want to, but it's imperative that I know exactly what happened. You're safe here with me, and no one else will know what we talk about, okay?"
There was a little nod, and the kid sat up straighter.
"I'll need to ask you some questions, and you will be completely honest with me, Paul. I'll be right here with you the whole way, but you have to trust me and do what I say. Do you understand?"
Another hesitant nod and a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
The doctor gave a big ‘we’re all friends here smile’ and leaned back a little.
"Okay, Paul. Now, can you tell me what happened with your father?"
The boy scooted back in the big chair until his feet stuck out from the seat.
"Daddy did bad things to me, and the police came and took us both away." He looked up at the doctor and bit his lip. "He used to touch me and stuff."
The therapist solemnly nodded. "Tell me how it all started, Paul. I need to know everything."
The boy pulled his feet up in the chair until he was huddled in on himself. For the moment, the doctor ignored it.
"It was just me and Daddy after Mommy left us. We were okay, but Daddy would come home really late and act really funny. Sometimes he would stay home, though and we would watch TV together."
The story rolled out in that soft, hesitant voice. The green eyes continued to peek up at the doctor every so often. Doctor Lyndon made sure to nod and urge him on when he stopped.
"Daddy started to hold me really close when we sat on the couch, and he was in his underwear. He made me stay only in my underwear, too. He said we didn't need anything else if it was just us. He would rub my legs or my belly and tickle me. I liked being with him, but then he wanted me to sit on his lap all the time. He said I was his special boy and we would do special things together, but he would touch me under my underwear, and he wanted me to touch him, too. His thing went all hard, and he said I made it do that."
"Paul," the doctor interrupted. "When we're talking in here, it's important that we use real words, so we know exactly what's being discussed. You need to be very grown-up about this, and we're going to use grown-up words, okay?"
Paul nodded okay at the doctor, but his eyes were still confused.
"Do you know the real word for a man's thing, Paul?" Doctor Lyndon prompted.
Paul opened and closed his little, cherry mouth a couple of times and almost whispered, "Penis?"
Doctor Lyndon smiled.
"Maybe if we were doing a health class, Paul, but can you think of another word for it? Did your father ever call it anything else?"
Paul nodded, and a red flush rose up in his cheeks.
"What did he call it, Paul?" he encouraged.
There was a soft mumble from the blushing boy and a squirt of pre-cum from the doctor.
"Louder, Paul. You need to speak up for me now and look at me, please, when you talk."
The embarrassed gaze met the doctor’s eyes, and the sweet lips said, "He called it his cock, sir."
"Good, Paul. That is what a man calls his thing. So can you continue with your story, but this time let's use the real words, okay?"
A pink tongue swept out over the tiny lips for a moment.
"Daddy's c…c…cock got hard, and he said it was my fault."
The doctor nodded and made sure to keep eye contact. When the eyes dropped, he prompted the boy to look up. No fun making them walk through the whole thing if they just stared at their laps the entire time. Watching the shame and humiliation was half the fun of the first session.
"Daddy wanted me to touch him and—"
"He wanted you to touch where, Paul? Be specific here and tell me where you touched him."
"He wanted me to touch his...his cock."
Again the eyes dipped. Doctor Lyndon smacked a hand on the desk.
"Paul!" The little face jerked up. "If you can't cooperate enough to look at me when you speak, how can I be sure you're telling me the whole truth? Maybe I need to talk to Judge Franklin about this instead."
"No! Please, I…I'll do better, I…I promise!"
Tears began to well up in the green eyes and the little hands fisted in his lap. The man frowned at him sternly.
"All right, Paul. I'm willing to give you one more chance, but this time you need to sit up straight and look at me while we talk. If you can't do that, then maybe we need to see the Judge again. Do you understand, Paul?"
The boy nodded frantically, sitting up in the big chair.
"I understand, Doctor Lyndon. I can do it, I promise!"
Little fists rubbed fiercely at the stray tears.
"Continue, Paul. Tell me about the touching and be specific."
More nodding and a deep breath.
"Daddy wanted me to touch his…his c…cock."
More blushing, but the eyes stayed up. Delicious.
"He told me to rub it with my hands, and then he wanted me to put it in my mouth. He made me suck on it, and then stuff came out in my mouth, and he made me swallow it."
"Cum, Paul," corrected the doctor, "Your daddy made you swallow his cum."
Paul clenched his tiny fists. Doctor Lyndon leaned closer to look directly into the seven-year-old boy’s eyes.
"Go ahead, Paul, it's better for you if you can say everything the grown-up way. It will help you deal with it better. Try it again."
A tiny shudder worked its way through the boy's body.
"He made me suck on his cock, and his c…cum came out in my mouth, and I swallowed it."
"Swallowed what, Paul? You swallowed your daddy's what?"
"I swallowed my Daddy's cum."
Doctor Lyndon gave a big smile.
"Good job, Paul. You really did great. Don't you feel better for getting all that out?"
The boy blushed under the praise and soaked it all in. Damn, Lyndon loved this job.
"Okay, would you like some soda, before we start again?"
He walked over to the small fridge and pulled a glass from the cabinet. With one this young and anxious it might take a couple of talking sessions to get to anything really good, so a little of the special cocktail and they could combine the next bits. The powder dissolved instantly in the soda and would be just enough to help the kid relax and make him more compliant without losing any of the real humiliation factor. The best part of all was that the kid wouldn't lose any of the memory later so he would remember doing everything willingly. Lyndon settled behind the desk again and watched as the tiny boy drained the glass. He reached over and took it quickly, impatient to start again.
"Okay, Paul" he smiled. "You did really well, before, but now I need you to tell me about how your daddy touched you. Can you do that for me?"
The future fucktoy blushed but remembered to keep his eyes up.
"Daddy would take off my underwear before he would make me suck his thi— cock."
Lyndon nodded in approval and the boy perked up under the unvoiced praise.
"He would rub me and touch my cock, too."
"Good, Paul, but when a boy is as small as you, we call it a baby-cock."
The response was indignant. "I'm not a baby!"
The little spine straightened sharply, and the cheeks flushed.
"I know that, Paul. Of course, you're not a baby, you've been very grown-up in here today, but we have to use the correct words when we talk. Now, try it again", he said firmly.
The sulky voice was soft, "Daddy rubbed my…my baby-cock, and he touched it."
Doctor Lyndon shifted quickly.
"Paul, I think it's hard for you to say these kinds of things. Am I right?"
The eyes flickered down and back up.
"I understand, Paul, and I'm going to try something different that I think will help."
That hopeful, trusting look was soaking his boxers.
"We're going to try more of a show and tell. Do you know what that means, Paul? That means that you're going to show me what you mean as you tell me. That way I can really understand what happened and it's easier because you don't have to say everything. Some things you can just show me, okay?"
The kid nodded doubtfully, but the doctor gave him a big smile as he came around the desk and helped the little second grader to his feet.
"Okay, Paul, to start, let's get you ready. You said before that your Daddy had you watch TV in your underwear, so let's try that first."
Before the boy grasped what was happening the man had pulled his t-shirt over his head.
The squeal was delicious as Doctor Lyndon dropped to his knees and pulled one tiny foot off the ground. The kid grabbed onto the man's shoulders instinctively. The tiny crotch was practically in his face as he pulled off the sneakers and socks and shorts. Finally, the small body was standing only in the little briefs. Doctor Lyndon pulled back to look the boy over. Thin arms wrapped around a pale chest. The cocksucking lips made an alarmed 'O' as he twitched from foot to foot.
"Just stand still, Paul, and let me see you. It's important that I know everything that happened between you and your father, so I need us to be completely open with each other."
Long moments ran on, and the boy began to blush under the silent inspection. Just as he began to speak, the doctor interrupted.
"Good boy, Paul. Okay, now hop into the chair and show me where you were touched."
The boy didn't hesitate in turning and climbing into the big chair. He pulled both bare feet into the seat and sat crossed legged in front of the therapist. Doctor Lyndon moved to kneel in front of the chair, so they were face to face.
"You said your daddy touched your belly and your legs. Can you show me?"
The boy shifted to straighten his legs and pointed to his thighs and stomach.
"Here and here."
The therapist moved closer still.
"When your daddy touched you did you have your legs closed like you do now?"
The boy shook his head and shifted his legs slightly open. "Okay, now show me how he touched your baby-cock, Paul."
"He would make me take my underwear off and—"
"Wait, Paul. Let's do this right."
Lyndon scooted back from the chair a little.
The child did.
"Now, take off your underwear."
There was a moment of hesitation, but then the tiny hands caught at the waistband and pushed. The boys head almost brushed against the man's chest when he bent over they were so close. The tiny briefs slid over the skinny knees and dropped down. The boy stepped out of them and stood, blushing. Doctor Lyndon didn't keep him waiting this time.
"Get back in the chair, Paul. Show me what happened. It's okay."
The boy turned and climbed back onto the leather seat. His cute round ass was on display, and the shadowed hole winked in and out of view. The doctor smiled. Patience. This would be sweet. Paul sat upright in the chair, and the doctor nodded.
"Okay, Paul, you're doing great. Now, let's see, where were we. Oh, yes, you had your legs spread and were about to talk about your father playing with your baby-cock."
The pedo doctor grabbed a thin leg in each hand and spread them until one touched each side of the chair. Being such a small boy, this was a significant spread. The boy gasped and his fists clenched, but he didn't pull his legs back. The doctor watched the twitching thigh muscles as the boy sat there with his little cock and balls on display. The shadowy cleft underneath was only a hint of the fun ahead.
"Okay, Paul. Now, show me what happened."
"Well, my daddy rubbed my b…b…baby…baby-cock."
The man shifted closer to the chair, now practically against it.
"Take your hand and show me exactly what happened, Paul," he directed.
One tiny trembling hand eased down to the tiny dicklet and wrapped around it.
"Daddy rubbed it like this."
The seven-year-old began to stoke up and down the shaft.
"I see. Did he do anything else?"
"He touched me here."
The little hand moved down to cup the tiny ball sack.
"Your balls. Did he touch them or squeeze them, Paul?"
"He…he squeezed them and…and…"
"It's okay, Paul. Just show me."
The pedo doctor was reassuring.
"Show me everything. Don't stop until I say. Show me how your father squeezed your balls."
The boy began squeezing the little ball sac and fondling it in his tiny hand.
"Like this, sir. He would do this and touch my baby-cock at the same time, like this."
A second tiny hand came down to grasp the hard little spike pointing straight up. They worked together for a moment.
"Then Daddy would touch me down there."
The boy blushed, and his hands stuttered to a stop.
"And sometimes he would touch me with his mouth."
"I see," said the doctor, "I'm going to help you with this, Paul, because I think we really need to do this properly. When you say he touched you down there, you mean he touched your cunt, Paul. Can you say that?"
"Good, now I need you to be able to touch yourself there, but you won't be able to sit in the chair like that. Oh, I know!"
Doctor Lyndon slid his hands up the trim legs and lifted the slight boy. Ignoring the sudden squeal, he pulled him forward until he was on the very edge of the leather seat. Pushing the small chest back to lie down, the doctor pulled the legs up and out, draping them over each arm of the large chair. The effect was cock hardening. The seven-year-old boy lay back in the chair, his tight round ass on the very front edge of the seat. The thin legs were spread obscenely wide with the hard little cocklet and balls on display. The stretch caused the ass cheeks to spread and reveal the tight boy-cunt waiting to be filled. Apparently, the dope head dad had not tapped this the way it needed to be, but Lyndon and his friends would take care of it. After all, it was their duty and a service to society.
"Okay, Paul, start explaining again, and I'll direct you as I need to, so we get an exact idea."
The little hands fluttered for less than a moment. After all, the kid was already hard. And from this view, he was made for it. The hands started stroking and rubbing at the little cock and balls.
"Daddy would rub my baby-cock and my balls. He would squeeze me, too."
The hands gave a little squeeze.
"Squeeze harder, Paul. I bet your daddy squeezed harder than that."
The boys head came up for a moment and looked at the doctor.
"Yes, sir, but sometimes he squeezed too hard, and it hurt. He would pull on me, and I didn't like it, and it hurt when he did that down there."
The doctor frowned. Sitting up, he put his hands on the taut thighs very close to the crotch.
"Now, Paul, we want to get the truth here. I need to know what happened and if I think you're lying to me, this will not go well. Now, you need to show me just what your Daddy did and tell me what he said to you while he was doing it. If you need help, you can ask me, and I'll help you."
The boy let out a whimper, but lay back down and began stroking his cocklet again.
Doctor Lyndon dropped a hand into his own lap to release his hard cock as it strained against his pants. It sprang out and fuck slop splattered underneath the chair immediately. The other hand he left on the thigh of the trembling boy.
"My Daddy would rub me like this and squeeze me like this."
The little hand began jerking on the tiny cock, and the other started rolling the ball sac roughly, but nowhere near as rough as he was going to get later. Still, Doctor Lyndon had the boy repeat the motions several times while he shifted to get a better view.
"What did your daddy say when he would do this? Don't stop. Just tell me. Show me how he would touch your cunt."
The boy's hands picked up the motions again as he talked.
"He told me I was dirty and I wouldn't get hard if I were a good boy."
The hand on the balls shifted off and trailed down to the tight hole. As the man watched the boy pushed a slender finger over the clenched hole, but didn't enter.
"It looks like you need help with that, Paul, so I'm going to give you a hand. Just keep going and tell me everything. I bet your father had another name for you, too. What was it?"
The man took the small wrist in one hand and gathered some of the leaking pre-cum from his own cock with the other. He smeared it over the tiny fingers and, began working one in and out only to the first knuckle. There was a sob in the boy's voice.
"He would do this, and it hurt, but he wouldn't stop."
"But he used more fingers than this, didn't he, Paul?" the doctor pried another little finger from the tight fist and forced it into the tight hole. The boy groaned and tried to pull his arm away, but to no effect. The two fingers were fucking the tiny hole full length now, and the boy was whining.
"Oh, yes, Paul, you need more than that. We have to really do this correctly, don't we?"
He pried loose another finger and rammed the three fingers their full lengths into the hot, little pussyboy. The boy's other hand came down to tug at the man's wrist.
"Sir, it hurts! I don't want to."
He writhed on the chair. The doctor slapped the reaching hand sharply, never stopping the fucking with the boy’s own fingers.
"Now, you told me you would cooperate. I don't want to hear any whining. If you can't tell me the rest and show me at the same time, I will help you, but I better start hearing more of what your father said right now."
Doctor Lyndon brought his sloppy hand off his own cock and started frigging the tiny cock in front of his face. The boy squealed and bucked. The doctor was quite a bit rougher than the boy had been, but the little spike stayed hard as a rock.
"Start talking, Paul, what did your father call you when he would do this?"
The boy was crying openly, big tears running down the sides of his face.
"He…he called me his p…pussy…his pussy-boy and said he needed to f…fuck me to t…teach me better. Then he…he… Aaaah!"
The doctor watched as the boy shivered through a dry cum right before his eyes. The little boy-cunt clenched tightly around the tiny fingers as he continued to force them in and out. The doctor dropped his hand from the spasming cocklet and pinched his fingers around the tiny balls. A shriek came from the boy even as the little spike above twitched wildly. With his tight hold on the thin wrist, the man crammed the boy's fingers deep in the hot boy-cunt and held them there. His other hand lifted from the boy's balls and gripped a knee to prevent him from pulling his legs down from the chair.
The boys head lifted from the chair and met the doctor's face. Tears ran down the pretty face, and the red lips were swollen as if he'd been chewing on them.
"What did you just do, Paul?" The man demanded. "Did you just have a dry cum?"
The boy sobbed and struggled where he was pinned, spread and exposed.
"Did you? That is filthy! You are a filthy, dirty, little boy, Paul!"
"No," came the pitiful sob. "I didn't mean to."
The doctor took a quick glance at the clock.
"I know, Paul. I know you didn't mean to. It's okay, Paul. I'm sure it was just the one time. I'm sure you didn't have such nasty little dry cums with your father, did you?"
The green eyes continued to stream tears. The little mouth opened and closed, and the head finally nodded.
"I need you to use your words, Paul. Did you have cums when your father rubbed your baby-cock?"
The boy wiggled uncomfortably and tried to pull his hand free from his ass, but the man pretended to ignore it.
"Yes," came the whisper finally. "I had c…cums then."
"When, Paul," came the demand. "Say it. You had cums when your father rubbed your baby-cock, didn't you?"
"I had c…cums when Daddy rubbed my baby-c…c…cock."
The doctor rubbed a soothing hand up and down the boy's thigh.
"And when else, Paul. Did you have cums when your father was fucking your tight, little cunt? Say it."
The sobbing picked up in volume, and the head fell back to the chair.
"I…I had cums wh…when my Daddy fu…fucked my c…cunt."
"You've been very bad, Paul."
The doctor leaned closer to the sprawled boy and flicked his free hand over the still hard spike before slipping that hand down into his own lap.
"You've been a filthy, little cock-whore."
He stroked hard and fast. They had little time left, but it would be enough.
"You shook your little baby-cock in your father's face, and he had to fuck that tight, little cunt to teach you better, but you didn't learn any better, did you, Paul? You just kept having cums and having cums."
He let go of the boy's wrist to reach back for the glass on the desk. The boy kept shaking and crying but didn't remove the fingers from his hole.
"I'm going to help you learn better, though. I'm going to do everything it takes!"
Doctor Lyndon got the glass down just in time to spray it half full of cock sauce. He couldn't wait to blast one off in that tight ass. He took a moment to squeeze the last of his cum into the glass before refastening his nine inches into his Dockers. He sat back.
"Okay, Paul—. Boy! Sit up and stop playing with your cunt like a whore!"
The boy yanked his hand away and struggled to pull his legs down and sit up. The doctor watched the efforts in amusement. Finally, the boy was again perched on the edge of the chair; hands clenched in his lap and tear tracks drying on his cute face. Doctor Lyndon looked at him thoughtfully.
"Now, I am willing to help you, Paul."
The tiny hands fisted tears from the green eyes.
"Yes, but you will have to work hard in our sessions and do everything I say. It won't be easy, but together we can help you to be a good boy. Is that what you want?"
The fucktoys face brightened.
"Oh, yes, yes, sir. I can be good."
The doctor smiled indulgently.
"I know you can, Paul. We're going to see exactly how good you can be. But first, why don't you get dressed while I get something for you to take home."
The boy jumped down from the chair and began pulling on his clothes. Doctor Lyndon took the glass of cum and walked over to the side cabinet. He poured in some carbonated water and mixed in a little powdered Viagra. Turning back, he offered it to the now fully clothed boy.
"This will help you prepare for our next session, Paul."
The boy drained the glass quickly and looked up for approval. Doctor Lyndon smiled and took the glass just as a knock sounded on the locked door.
"That must be your ride, Paul. Now, remember, you don't have to talk to anyone about our sessions if you don't want to, but if you want others to know you're such a filthy, little boy, you can tell anyone you want."
The boy shook his head vigorously, eyes wide. Doctor Lyndon smiled again and went to his door.
"You're just on time. Paul and I were just finishing up. Just take these." He handed a bottle to Paul’s foster mother.
"One every night before bed. It will help with our sessions. And I'll see Paul again tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock for our next session."With goodbyes, all around Doctor Lyndon shooed the two out the door and settled in to review the camera footage. Paul was extremely photogenic. He would do great in the fuck films after they finished with him here. But tomorrow was another day. And the special cocktail would make sure the kid was ready and raring to go. Sure, it would make him horny as hell and more sensitive than the little pussyboy could ever have imagined, but hey, they were just giving him what he needed. After all, every little pussy craved cock, right? Watching the screen, the Doctor Lyndon leaned back in the chair, stroking his cock and smiled. Tomorrow he would begin again with his pussy-boy in session.