The Hitchhiker

(Mb) (anal, oral) (nc) (inc)

How the fuck could I let this happen. One moment we are a happy, normal family, and now, just because of one mistake we are not. And I was trying to help someone out, for fuck sake!

Let me start at the beginning:

My six-year-old son, Luke, and I had left his grandparents and were heading back home in our van. There was about three hours ahead of us. My wife and eight-year-old daughter were waiting there. It was a pretty lonely stretch of road, not crowded like the expressways on the seaboard. I could see that there was a storm building ahead. That’s when I saw him—a hitchhiker along the road.

I know what you are thinking, “Keep driving, asshole!” I might have, but (again), it was an almost desolate section of highway with a storm ahead. I couldn’t have left someone in that situation, could I?

So, pulling off to the side, I told Luke, “Why don’t you get in back, sport. You can play with some toys back there.”
I smiled as my blond haired boy unbuckled with an, “Okay! This’ll be fun!”
We only had one set of seats back there, and I was freer than my wife was in letting the kids sit on the floor when the van was moving.
The hitchhiker ran up to the passenger side and pulled it open. Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, he hopped up into the van.
“Oh, thanks, man. I so appreciate this! I was afraid I’d be caught in that storm.”
“Where are you heading?” I asked.
I glanced at the hitchhiker. He couldn’t have been out of his twenties. It didn’t look like he’d done any hard drugs or anything. In fact, while there was some sweatiness, overall he didn’t smell as strong as I might have expected. Although there aren’t as many hitchhikers these days, I used to pick them up occasionally when I was doing a lot of traveling. Never had a problem and this young man looked pretty harmless.
“Eventually, all the way to Chicago, but if you can get me past this storm that would be great.”
“No problem. My name is Mike.”
“Oh, I’m Ryan.”
“In back is my son, Luke.”
Ryan swung around, and if I had read the body language right, I would have known that the young man had immediately fixated on my little boy. His eye contact was fixed, and he worked to control his voice as he extended his hand.
“Hi there, little dude. Good to see you.”
“Hi!” Luke replied cheerfully, taking Ryan’s hand.
If I paid attention, I would have realized that Ryan held my son’s hand just a bit longer than he should have, and ran his thumb over Luke’s soft skin. But I was too occupied pulling back onto the pavement and picking up speed as we hurtled toward the storm.
Luke returned to a toy truck he was playing with on the floor. He made sounds as he ran the toy up on the seat, then back down. Ryan never completely turned back around in his seat.
“Where you from?” I asked, hoping to have an adult conversation.
“Uh, I’ve been hitching rides from back in Seattle,” Ryan answered.
It didn’t actually answer my question, but we kept talking. I found out, vaguely, that Ryan had been in school somewhere. That he had family in Chicago, but his car wasn’t up to the trip, and he enjoyed hitching anyway.
“We added it,” I replied. “It keeps quite a bit of sun out. No one can see in very easily if there are packages. That sort of thing.”
“Yeah, it’s a good idea,” Ryan thought out loud, then added, “In fact, this is a great ride.”
“It takes care of our family. Doesn’t it, Luke,” I said to the back of the vehicle and was pleasantly surprised when I heard his little voice reply, “It’s fun back here.”
“So, you married, any other kids?”
“Yeah, my wife and daughter are back home.”
“It’s a pretty good pace. If you’re good with it, we don’t leave the highway for another two hours.”
“Nice,” Ryan whispered.
He looked back at Luke. I glanced in my mirror. He was on his back with his knees bent and up in the air as he ran the toy truck across his polo shirt, down on his short pants and up his exposed leg. Ryan looked back at me.
After clearing his throat, he said softly, “Sooo, how much do your kids know about the birds and the bees?”
Where did that come from? Sure that I had heard wrong, I asked, “What?”
“You heard me okay. Have you talked to Luke about sex, or better yet, shown him what it’s all about?”
I glanced in the mirror again. Luke had crawled up on the seat, thankfully oblivious to the conversation.
“Look,” I said. “This isn’t appropriate. At all.”
“Sure it is,” Luke smiled. “Hell, I broke my little brother in when he was seven, and I was twelve. I used him regularly until I went to college, and even then used him on breaks. The best damn thing he had going was realizing that he liked cocksucking. You’re telling me you never even fed him your cum when he was sleeping. What a waste, man!”
“Hey,” I said regaining my strength. “This conversation stops now, or you get out of here.”
Ryan was unfazed and even smiled again.
“No. I think it’s important that I be the man and teach that little boy a few things—like to service a real man.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. “And since I have this, I’m pretty sure you’ll do what I say. You’re going to keep both hands on the wheel and keep driving. Whatever you hear, or see in the mirror, you keep driving. Understand?”
I nodded dumbly.
“First, hand your wallet over here slowly,” Ryan ordered.
I obeyed, and he pulled out my driver’s license. Taking his cell phone, he snapped a picture of it before putting the cell back in an inside pocket. He laid the wallet up on the dashboard.
“Just so you remember that I know where you live now. I could look you and your loved ones up if there is a problem.” He paused for a moment and looked back at my son. “Now the fun begins.”
He unlatched his belt and, holding his gun firmly, moved into the back of the van.

What should I have done? Swerved and knocked Ryan off his feet? That wouldn’t mean he would let go of the gun. I kept driving, glancing in the mirror to see him begin to molest Luke.
“Hey, Luke, we’re gonna play some games,” he told the boy. “We’re gonna have lots of fun.”
“Why do you have a gun?” Luke asked his voice tinged with concern.
“Because I’m in charge and what I say, goes. Okay?”
Luke didn’t respond. There was only the sound of rain and thunder. A glance in the mirror and I saw Ryan slip his coat off and lay it in the seat. He put the gun on top and sat down in the center of the seats. Reaching down, he pulled Ryan off the floor and onto his lap. I could see Luke struggle.
“Shhh...stop...” Ryan whispered. “If you aren’t a good boy with me, I may hurt your daddy.”
I felt, rather than saw, Luke’s fear.
“Will you be a good boy with me?”
“Y...yes,” I barely heard Luke respond.
I could see Ryan pull Luke’s shirt off, then he pulled off his t-shirt and threw both on the floor. The little boy squirmed uncomfortably as this man held him by the neck with one hand and swept his hand over the boy’s soft skin with the other hand.
“Fuckin’ beautiful. I knew you were made for this when I first saw you,” Ryan muttered.
I saw him as he ran Luke’s hair through his fingers, then paused to look at him, and then pressed his lips against my six-year-old son’s mouth, tasting him. Luke moaned against Ryan, pushed on his arms, but the man wouldn’t let up until he was ready. Then he kissed down on Luke’s neck, and then further down, pausing at his little boy nipples.
“Sooo fuckin’ good!” Ryan said breathlessly. He worked his way back up and kissed Luke on the mouth again before pushing the child’s head down toward his adult nipples. “Suck on it!” he ordered. I imagined Luke’s mouth opening and his little tongue lapping at the man’s nip. Ryan continued muttering, “Gotta baby boy to play with.”
“Mmmffff,” I heard Luke respond.
My guess was he didn’t like being called baby. As if that were the only thing he would have to deal with. When I glanced again in the mirror, Ryan had pulled Luke upright and was running his hands over my son’s upper body and face again. I heard him tell my six-year-old son, “Let’s see what else you got.”
He was started to paw at the boy’s short pants. Unsnapping them. Unzipping them.
I started to speak, “Stop—”
But holding Luke tightly against him, Ryan picked up the gun, out of my son’s line of sight, and simply said, “Shut the fuck up,” reminding me that he had the power, the control over the situation. I continued to drive through the storm.
Laying the gun back down, Ryan yanked off Luke’s shoes, and then began pulling on his pants.
“Nooo!” the child moaned.
I think he was trying to hold onto the waist of the pants, but I heard a slap. Not hard, but enough to get the attention of a little boy. Glancing back in the mirror, I saw Luke hold his cheek. He scrunched his face up as if he might cry.
Ryan pointed his finger at him and hissed, “You fuckin’ do what I say!”
Then he pulled off Luke’s short pants and threw them down. My little six-year-old boy, the product of my loins was sitting in his white briefs. It was his last holdout against this monster. Ryan cupped and touched my son’s covered dicklet.
“Beautiful...” he whispered, then said to Luke, “You know what this is for, dude?”
“I...it’s for...peeing,” Luke said softly not wanting this conversation.
Ryan told him, “Oh, it’s so much more than that!” For a second, I thought he was talking about learning a new, normal, sport. “Luke, what you have here is gonna make a lot of people happy. When you get older, it’ll bust a lot of cunts. For now, you’ll make guys like your daddy and me very happy.”
I was stunned. Why was Ryan including me in this? Ryan must have known what I thought because he added, “Yeah, even your daddy will want to use you after this afternoon.”
Luke didn’t understand any of this and simply replied, “He will?”
“Uh, uh,” Ryan nodded as he pulled off the underwear. “Fuck that's sweet. Fuck! Any time any guy wants to play with you, you let them. Not just your daddy. Anyone. It might be your babysitter, an older boy in high school, or a man you see in the restroom at a mall. Always let them.”
I realized all of a sudden that Ryan was masturbating Luke. I heard my six-year-old son breathe heavily, and a moan escaped his lips. Was that because he was uncomfortable, that he was feeling some-thing he’d never felt before. Something he might enjoy.
Ryan kept talking dirty to the boy, “Yeah, this little cocklet of yours is going to be a lot of fun. So’s your tight little butt.”
“Nooo...don’t touch...don’t touch!” Luke raised his voice.
Fuck, Ryan was slipping his finger under my son’s immature nut sack and trying to finger his hole.
“I fuckin’ will touch, you fuckin’ little slut.” I expected Ryan might slap Luke again, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Time to see what your dicklet will grow to be like.”
He almost threw Luke into the corner of the seat on the driver’s side. I couldn’t see much and had to adjust the mirror. But I still couldn’t see much as Ryan half stood and put one knee on the seat as he faced the little boy, leaning over him. I could imagine how intimidating it was for Luke. From what I saw, Ryan could not have looked more like a vampire descending on his prey if he was wearing a cape.
Ryan was opening his jeans and exposing himself to my son. My little six-year-old son was seeing a man-size dick for the first time. I don’t think he’d even seen mine before. I heard him begin to say, “Tha...that’s nasty.”
Ryan cut him off, “Damn right it’s nasty—nasty good! Get your hands up here and feel it.”
Luke must not have reacted quickly enough, because I could tell that Ryan was grabbing his hand and putting it on his cock. Shit, my innocent little tyke had his hand around a thick cock, maybe feeling the pubic bush and balls of a guy that wasn’t me. Shit, where did that come from? Why would I even think of that? Ryan filled in some of the details that I couldn’t see.
“Now, give that a pull there, little dude...oh, yeah...you’re jackin’ me now. Get a feel of my balls there. That’s it. Aren’t they big? Fuck!”
Luke’s soft voice drifted from behind his molester, “Ewww...what’s that?”
Ryan responded, “That’s pre-cum, baby boy. That’s what’s gonna make you grow up strong.”
I was sure that the movement of his arm meant that he just used his finger to scoop up some of that pre-cum to smear it across the boy’s lips. I could hear Luke shift. He was trying to pull away from the man.
“Ow!” Luke said.
Glancing back, I knew that Ryan had grabbed my six-year-old boy’s soft, blond hair.
“Taste it, little bitch!” Ryan ordered him.
Shit! Shit! Shit! He was forcing a finger smeared with pre-cum into Luke’s mouth.
Shit! Why couldn’t I stop this! I slapped the steering wheel as I heard Ryan whisper again, “Remember if you aren’t good for me, daddy gets hurt.”
I could swear I heard my son begin to sniffle, “Nooo, I be good. Don’t hurt daddeee!”
Would this ever end? Then Ryan told Luke what I was dreading, what I knew was going to happen.
“Lick it.”
The boy must have hesitated because he yelled ouched again as Ryan pulled his hair and told him again, “Lick my fuckin’ cock slit!” There was a pause, and then I heard the man tell him, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I don’t like it,” Luke replied emphatically.
“I don’t fuckin’ care what you like. What matters is that you suck like you’re supposed to.”
What happened next was a blur of Ryan’s voice and my six-year-old boy’s sounds as he was turned into a little cocksucker.
“Mmmmfffff. Gaggg”
 “Take that fuckin’ dick”
“Suck on it, fucker”
“Suck, suck, suck...ohhhh, yeahhhhh”
“Fuckin’ a kid’s mouth.”
“Lick that cock head.”
I heard Luke gasp for air. Ryan must have let him up for air.
And then, “Auuukkkk...gag...slurp...
“Suck that cock...suck, suck, suck...oh, yeah.”
Ryan briefly turned his attention to me.
“You gotta good cock slut here, man. He’ll take good care of you tonight.”
And I realized my dick felt heavy. No! I wasn’t responding to the rape of my son. I couldn’t. Glancing back, I saw that Ryan was using both hands on Luke’s head. He was trying to skull fuck him!
“Oh, fuckin’ take it, slut.”
Slurp, suck, slurp, gagggg.
“Boy slut is going to get a nut load.”
Suck, suck, gagggg.
Oh, fuck...oh, fuck...aaauuuggghhh!”
There was a flash of lightning and thunder as I saw Ryan tense up. Did he go balls deep in Luke’s throat? Surely a six-year-old couldn’t do that! I heard Luke gag and saw his hands hammer at his rapist’s body. All of a sudden it was quiet. Ryan seemed to spasm before he pulled out of Luke’s mouth, pivoted and collapsed on the seat beside him. I saw my child’s face. He was so red. Tears were pouring from his eyes. Spit and cum drooled out his mouth and down his chin to drip onto his quivering body.
Adjusting my mirror slightly, I got my first glance at Ryan’s dick. He had thrown his head back and was getting his breath, his jeans were pushed down on his thighs, and his somewhat softening cock flopped on his body. Fuck! It was easily eight inches and was shiny with my son’s spit and his sperm.
“Aw, fuck!” Ryan exclaimed.
He extended his hand and ran a finger through the boy’s hair and down on his cheek. He scooped up some drool and fed it back to Luke. Luke seemed to be in shock and just opened his mouth obediently. Getting his breath, Ryan pulled Luke over, telling him, “Look at this mess you left. Lick it up now.”
I could see him press my boy down to lick up the cum and spit from his shaft and then the huge nut sack. Luke tentatively, but obediently stuck his little tongue out to scoop up the remains.
But if I thought this was over, I was mistaken.
Ryan murmured, “Fuckin’ great little cocksucker.” He turned his attention back to me, and as Luke continued to lap at the big cock shaft, Ryan said, “If you never fed him cum, I sure as hell know you’ve never touched his tight, little boy-cunt.”
Looking straight at me in the mirror, I watched as Ryan’s hand traveled down Luke’s back and to his butt. A long finger extended to the boy’s chute. As he pressed against Luke’s hole, the boy immediately responded, jerking upright.
“No! Don’t touch me there!”
If he realized that the cock that was recently in his mouth was going there, and what that might be like, he would have yelled louder. As it was, Ryan grabbed his jaw with one big hand and slapped him with the other. Stunned, Luke simply started crying. He didn’t even notice that Ryan’s cock was almost instantly hard again. All he knew was that he was being treated like a rag doll. Ryan quickly worked his finger under my six-year-old boy’s baby balls and began to poke at his butt hole again.
“Ow...ow...ow! Peeese stooopppp...” but Ryan fought against Luke’s tension and worked the finger in.
“Sooo fuckin’ tight...gonna loosen that up real quick.”
Reaching back to his jacket pocket, Ryan pulled out a small tube of lubricant. Shit, what all did this guy carry around. He was more prepared than the fucking Boy Scouts of America! Popping off the cap, he simply aimed it at Luke’s anus and squirted. Laying the tube back on his jacket, he began smearing the thick substance around and in Luke’s ass.
“Gonna fuck me a baby boy now,” then to me, “Gonna fuck your baby boy!”
I couldn’t watch as Ryan pulled Luke down to the floor and maneuvered his body around. Not understanding, but truly afraid, my six-year-old son cried openly as his legs were lifted up. I couldn’t bear it. I turned the mirror down and glimpsed Ryan squeezed in between my son’s legs. No, he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—try to get that cock inside a six-year-old.
I could only see my son’s arm and leg as he lay beneath this monster. He was slapping against the man’s arm. I couldn’t see, but I heard very clearly the moment that Ryan’s thick cock head broke through Luke’s tight virgin anus.
The scream almost pierced my eardrums, then descended to a low, “Augh...augh...augh...” Then, what broke my heart, Luke cried out, “Daddeeeee...augh...augh.” And I could do nothing except drive through the rain.
Even Ryan was barely coherent.
“Aw...fuck...ugh...so tight...ohhh...take it...slut...ugh.”
I knew this would last a while and could barely keep from crying myself, as little Luke sobbed, tried to catch his breath, slapped at his rapist and kicked at the air. None of it even slowed Ryan as he began to fuck, thrusting in and out of my little boy. I knew there was no relief for Luke. Being a man, I understood that Ryan’s second cum would be some time off. I don’t even know how long it took before I heard Ryan become more verbal.
“Fuck...gonna...fuckin’ paint...your guts...kid...yeahhh...gonna cummmm...take my wad...take it you fuckin’ slut...auggghhh!
I saw Ryan tense up. He was emptying another cum load deep inside Luke. Once again, the van became quiet. Even Luke’s sobs were subdued as he tried to process what had happened to him mentally. Ryan rolled off of him and got back up on the seat. Reaching down, he used Luke’s polo shirt to wipe himself off. I did notice one thing, though. My son’s six-year-old peener was hard. Shit, is that even possible, did Luke wind up enjoying this rape?
Ryan dressed, put his jacket back on and came back up to the front seat. He put his gun back in his pocket. We didn’t say anything. I mean, how do you start up a conversation with a guy who just raped your six-year-old boy? I noticed the rain was letting up.
Ryan said quietly, “There should be a rest stop on up here in a few miles. Let me off there.”
He took his cell phone and called someone. They must have answered quickly, because Ryan simply said, “Pick me up...it was a good ride,” and hung up. Spinning around in his seat, he took a pic of Luke before putting the cell back in his pocket.
There was the rest stop. I pulled in and stopped at the far side of the park.
“Thanks, man, it was great,” he smirked. He added before he closed the door, “Remember, you don’t want anyone else finding out about this. I have your vitals. Besides, you really will enjoy the little slut now.”
Ryan slammed the door and walked off. Realizing that my dick was rock hard, I stayed in place, fingering my dick mound. No one was close by.
I whispered, “Luke...come up here.”