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An innocent child. Gregory's life will never be the same after this summer.", "count": "6", "submission_right_submission_id": "2858093", "submission_right_file_name": "4344392_ShotaSox_sins_of_the_father_burden_of_the_son_2.rtf", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_huge": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/4344/4344392_ShotaSox_sins_of_the_father_burden_of_the_son_2.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/4344/4344392_ShotaSox_sins_of_the_father_burden_of_the_son_2.jpg", "submission_right_thumbnail_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4344/4344392_ShotaSox_sins_of_the_father_burden_of_the_son_2.jpg", "submission_right_thumb_huge_x": "300", "submission_right_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_right_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_right_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "[b]Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are fictitious and are not related to nor inspired by actual persons. I do not condone child exploitation in real life.[/b]\n\nNeeded an outlet for some more mean-spirited ideas floating around in my head after working on my fluff piece, so here we are.\n\nOther stories are being worked on in the meantime, also.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are fictitious and are not related to nor inspired by actual persons. I do not condone child exploitation in real life.

Needed an outlet for some more mean-spirited ideas floating around in my head after working on my fluff piece, so here we are.

Other stories are being worked on in the meantime, also.", "writing": "[center][b]Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are fictitious and not related to nor inspired by actual persons. I do not condone child exploitation in real life.[/b]\n\nThe characters in this story are anthropomorphic foxes.\n\nIf you enjoyed, please leave a comment! Thank you for reading!\n\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/center]\n\nGregory. My son. My world.\n\nHe was short for his age. A dainty little shrimp. The other kids would pick on him for it, and I always told him to ignore them; that his height was perfectly average and that he was normal. I was lying to him. Lying is one of those things that gets easier every time you do it. I've told my share. To my wife, to Gregory, to myself. \n\nPerhaps the biggest lie I've ever told myself is,\n\n \"I'm not a pedophile.\"\n\nEverything about him was perfect. His blue eyes, those boyish buck teeth. That tight bouncy ass of his. Always there taunting me. Taunting me to slip up and do something I'd regret.\n\nHe was only 7. He wouldn't possibly comprehend the advances of an adult, not especially his own father. I always had to remind myself that his tendency to lounge around with his legs spread wide open was not an invitation. He was just a little boy.\n\nBut, god, did that make it even hotter...\n\nThe more I tried to distance myself from my disgusting thoughts, the more vivid they became. He was the absolute center of my universe. And he was completely, totally oblivious to the fact.\n\n***\n\nThe routine of one's life is a fragile thing. One thing could change and cause everything around it to spiral out of control. My routine was unremarkable. I had a good job, and a nice car thanks to my wife and I both working. We made decent money and we lived comfortably and happily. Every week was the same. Until it wasn't.\n\nMy wife received an offer from a major tech corporation to travel and train new hires. The money was too good to turn down. We would be set for life if we just lived modestly and saved the excess. The discussion was short. It was easy. I agreed that it would be foolish to turn the offer down. We could go long distance for a little while. It was how we met, after all. Just like all the kids these days.\n\nThe kid was naturally upset that his mother was leaving on a long trip. But he understood that we could see her on the phone often, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He even made her a nice going away card.\n\nShe asked if I would be ok with being a stay-at-home dad. I didn't think I could handle being alone with him, but I couldn't refuse. The numbers didn't lie. If we sent Gregory to daycare, the expenses just wouldn't make sense. I quit my job and resigned myself to the fact that every day from then on would be a test of my self-control.\n\nThe day of her departure was also the day the realization actually set in. It was a weekend. Gregory and I would be together all day long. Alone.\n\nWe watched cartoons, ate breakfast, and he played with his toys for most of the morning. Midway through the afternoon, he fell asleep in the living room and I carried him to his bed. My breath was shaky the whole time.\n\nGregory slept with his socks on. I always found it endearing. Just like how he occasionally snorted in his sleep. And the way his toes twitched ever so slightly when he's dreaming. I watched him as he slept, every night and every day. He was too precious to not be seen in such a state.\n\nEvery morning, I would masturbate before going to wake Gregory. I had to. If there was even a little bit of sexual stamina left in me, it was a risk to his safety. I knew what I wanted, and I knew what I needed to do to keep from acting on my desires.\n\nBut the longer my wife was gone, the more my fantasies escalated. They were worse than any I had imagined previously. Being around him all the time triggered something deep within me. Something dark.\n\nOne evening, I went to Gregory's bedroom to check on him. He was sleeping peacefully, so I sat down in the chair next to his bed and watched him for a few minutes. Fuck. He was only wearing a pair of tight white briefs and a pair of socks; sleeping with no blanket over him, his exposed body was laid bare for me to devour with my eyes. I felt my cock begin to grow.\n\nIt was wrong. It was so, so wrong. But I couldn't stop looking at him. At his perfect little face, his soft belly, his little feet. My erection kept growing, and eventually it was too painful. I started stroking myself right in front of him and I prayed that he would stay asleep for his own sake.\n\nI imagined us together. In bed having sex, or making out with our tongues. Each image flashing though my mind brought me closer to climax. Then, an extreme idea entered my mind. I would cum on him. I would shoot the same seed that made him all over his little undies. My stomach fluttered thinking about it but I just kept on stroking at the thought.\n\nWhat the fuck was I doing? I couldn't do this, I thought. But I did. I finally reached the point where I couldn't hold back anymore, and I blasted my cum all over the front of his underwear. It was the most intense orgasm of my entire life up to that point. Even better than sex with my own wife.\n\nAfterward, I looked at my handiwork. A huge sticky glob of semen coated the fabric of his underwear and dripped onto the sheets. Surely he would awaken in the morning, confused as to the wet spot, but oblivious to what really happened. I slid my pants back on and made my exit.\n\nOnce the post-orgasm high had worn off, I couldn't believe what I had done. How could I be so careless? He could've woken up and seen me at any moment. My heart raced and I tried to put the thought out of my mind, but it haunted me for the rest of the night.\n\nWhen Gregory woke up the next morning, things went about as expected. His innocent expression when he told me that he wet the bed was enough for me to know that he hadn't peeked at me through half-closed eyes last night. I had gotten away with it.\n\nThat night, I couldn't help but imagine what might happen if I were to do it again. What if I shot my load onto his feet this time? Or right in his face? I couldn't get the images out of my head. Listening to my better judgement, however, I decided to jerk off while looking through his cracked bedroom door rather than risk him seeing me. Another explosive orgasm.\n\nAt that point it seemed like my most intense climaxes came whenever I was thinking about him. The next morning while he was at school, I raided his bedroom and his discarded underwear and socks were my goal. Anything that carried his stench would be mine. Once I had collected my prizes I collapsed onto his bed and began edging myself to the thought of him while sniffing and worshiping his odors.\n\nSeveral hours had passed before I finished, and the resulting load spurted all over Gregory's bedding. In my lust, I even considered leaving it there to soak in. To let him bask in the scent of my musky cum as he slept. It was such a hot idea, but I couldn't risk him catching on that it was me making these messes. I washed his bedding and decided to keep a couple of his worn socks as souvenirs.\n\nI was losing my fucking mind trying to maintain the facade. I fantasized about Gregory all day, sometimes even considering if I should spy on him at school through the windows. Any sane person would ignore such a thought outright, but not me. I agonized about every detail. The logistics, the risks, the potential consequences, my excuse if I was caught. In the end I just consigned myself to masturbating in his bed again. It made me feel closer to him when he was gone.\n\nAll I had to do was wait. Wait one more week until summer vacation and then I had 3 months of uninterrupted time with him. My Gregory.\n\n***\n\nThe time had come. After one final, agonizing, week of school, he hopped in the rear passenger seat and buckled up.\n\n\"Hi daddy!\" He sang.\n\nMusic for my soul. His bouncy demeanor marked him as quite excited for the coming break from school. We even stopped to get fast food on the way home and I bought him a meal with a toy. He was ecstatic. He deserved every kindness and gift given to him. He deserved everything I gave him.\n\nThe house was quiet when we arrived. I kicked off my shoes at the door and he did the same. Those sweaty striped socks of his padded along the carpet of the living room and into the kitchen, where his footfalls left sweat marks on the cold tile floor. I followed close behind.\n\nHe reached up into the fridge on his tippy toes to grab a post-meal snack. I had given him free run of the fridge while his mother was gone. It was our little secret. Over the weeks his lithe frame began to bulge outward ever so slightly; especially around his belly and thighs. His pants got tighter and his shirts would ride up over his tummy when he reclined back. It made me hard every time.\n\nHe made his way back to the living room to slouch on the sofa while he ate his snack. There was the tummy peeking. I sat near him and turned the TV on to the cartoon channel. Asinine drivel, fit for a special ed class, but he loved it. I turned the volume up for his enjoyment and began my own feast for the eyes.\n\nHis hot feet were up on the coffee table. Another one of our little secrets while mom wasn't around. I stared at them for a while, taking in their softness and shape, imagining myself shoving his smelly socks in his face and listening to his soft whimpers as he tried desperately to avoid sniffing his own stink. My dick was rock hard, and I started to stroke it through my pants while staring at him.\n\nHe was so engrossed in his show that he didn't notice a single thing I was doing. My movements were slow and deliberate, like a lion stalking its prey. I would slowly move my gaze to look at his face, then follow his eyes to the screen, and then back to his feet again. I was watching him closely, waiting for any signs of recognition or suspicion, but all that escaped his lips were sweet little giggles at the excuse for humor on the screen.\n\nLater, after dinner that evening, he finished off the pint of ice cream we had picked up the day before. Watching him regain his baby fat over the past weeks made me realize just how much I loved watching him eat. Every mouthful he scarfed down I imagined covered in my hot musky cum. His mouth was my property, and he was addicted to greedily gulping my spunk.\n\nI was pulled back to reality by his waddling back to the kitchen for another glass of chocolate milk; another purchase which had been gone through in a couple days. No doubt I would need to pick up more the next day. His pudgy tummy demanded it of me, and I was all too happy to provide.\n\n***\n\nThe first week of summer vacation was much the same as the weeks prior. We would watch TV or play games in our free time, and eat good food for every meal. Sure, the wife would video call, but it was few and far between. Sometimes not even once a week. Gregory didn't seem to care much, though; our little secrets and indulgences far outweighed any sorrow for her absence in his mind. He was daddy's boy now, through and through.\n\nHe was all mine. \n\nHe was mine...", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are fictitious and not related to nor inspired by actual persons. I do not condone child exploitation in real life.

The characters in this story are anthropomorphic foxes.

If you enjoyed, please leave a comment! Thank you for reading!


-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Gregory. My son. My world.

He was short for his age. A dainty little shrimp. The other kids would pick on him for it, and I always told him to ignore them; that his height was perfectly average and that he was normal. I was lying to him. Lying is one of those things that gets easier every time you do it. I've told my share. To my wife, to Gregory, to myself.

Perhaps the biggest lie I've ever told myself is,

 "I'm not a pedophile."

Everything about him was perfect. His blue eyes, those boyish buck teeth. That tight bouncy ass of his. Always there taunting me. Taunting me to slip up and do something I'd regret.

He was only 7. He wouldn't possibly comprehend the advances of an adult, not especially his own father. I always had to remind myself that his tendency to lounge around with his legs spread wide open was not an invitation. He was just a little boy.

But, god, did that make it even hotter...

The more I tried to distance myself from my disgusting thoughts, the more vivid they became. He was the absolute center of my universe. And he was completely, totally oblivious to the fact.

***

The routine of one's life is a fragile thing. One thing could change and cause everything around it to spiral out of control. My routine was unremarkable. I had a good job, and a nice car thanks to my wife and I both working. We made decent money and we lived comfortably and happily. Every week was the same. Until it wasn't.

My wife received an offer from a major tech corporation to travel and train new hires. The money was too good to turn down. We would be set for life if we just lived modestly and saved the excess. The discussion was short. It was easy. I agreed that it would be foolish to turn the offer down. We could go long distance for a little while. It was how we met, after all. Just like all the kids these days.

The kid was naturally upset that his mother was leaving on a long trip. But he understood that we could see her on the phone often, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He even made her a nice going away card.

She asked if I would be ok with being a stay-at-home dad. I didn't think I could handle being alone with him, but I couldn't refuse. The numbers didn't lie. If we sent Gregory to daycare, the expenses just wouldn't make sense. I quit my job and resigned myself to the fact that every day from then on would be a test of my self-control.

The day of her departure was also the day the realization actually set in. It was a weekend. Gregory and I would be together all day long. Alone.

We watched cartoons, ate breakfast, and he played with his toys for most of the morning. Midway through the afternoon, he fell asleep in the living room and I carried him to his bed. My breath was shaky the whole time.

Gregory slept with his socks on. I always found it endearing. Just like how he occasionally snorted in his sleep. And the way his toes twitched ever so slightly when he's dreaming. I watched him as he slept, every night and every day. He was too precious to not be seen in such a state.

Every morning, I would masturbate before going to wake Gregory. I had to. If there was even a little bit of sexual stamina left in me, it was a risk to his safety. I knew what I wanted, and I knew what I needed to do to keep from acting on my desires.

But the longer my wife was gone, the more my fantasies escalated. They were worse than any I had imagined previously. Being around him all the time triggered something deep within me. Something dark.

One evening, I went to Gregory's bedroom to check on him. He was sleeping peacefully, so I sat down in the chair next to his bed and watched him for a few minutes. Fuck. He was only wearing a pair of tight white briefs and a pair of socks; sleeping with no blanket over him, his exposed body was laid bare for me to devour with my eyes. I felt my cock begin to grow.

It was wrong. It was so, so wrong. But I couldn't stop looking at him. At his perfect little face, his soft belly, his little feet. My erection kept growing, and eventually it was too painful. I started stroking myself right in front of him and I prayed that he would stay asleep for his own sake.

I imagined us together. In bed having sex, or making out with our tongues. Each image flashing though my mind brought me closer to climax. Then, an extreme idea entered my mind. I would cum on him. I would shoot the same seed that made him all over his little undies. My stomach fluttered thinking about it but I just kept on stroking at the thought.

What the fuck was I doing? I couldn't do this, I thought. But I did. I finally reached the point where I couldn't hold back anymore, and I blasted my cum all over the front of his underwear. It was the most intense orgasm of my entire life up to that point. Even better than sex with my own wife.

Afterward, I looked at my handiwork. A huge sticky glob of semen coated the fabric of his underwear and dripped onto the sheets. Surely he would awaken in the morning, confused as to the wet spot, but oblivious to what really happened. I slid my pants back on and made my exit.

Once the post-orgasm high had worn off, I couldn't believe what I had done. How could I be so careless? He could've woken up and seen me at any moment. My heart raced and I tried to put the thought out of my mind, but it haunted me for the rest of the night.

When Gregory woke up the next morning, things went about as expected. His innocent expression when he told me that he wet the bed was enough for me to know that he hadn't peeked at me through half-closed eyes last night. I had gotten away with it.

That night, I couldn't help but imagine what might happen if I were to do it again. What if I shot my load onto his feet this time? Or right in his face? I couldn't get the images out of my head. Listening to my better judgement, however, I decided to jerk off while looking through his cracked bedroom door rather than risk him seeing me. Another explosive orgasm.

At that point it seemed like my most intense climaxes came whenever I was thinking about him. The next morning while he was at school, I raided his bedroom and his discarded underwear and socks were my goal. Anything that carried his stench would be mine. Once I had collected my prizes I collapsed onto his bed and began edging myself to the thought of him while sniffing and worshiping his odors.

Several hours had passed before I finished, and the resulting load spurted all over Gregory's bedding. In my lust, I even considered leaving it there to soak in. To let him bask in the scent of my musky cum as he slept. It was such a hot idea, but I couldn't risk him catching on that it was me making these messes. I washed his bedding and decided to keep a couple of his worn socks as souvenirs.

I was losing my fucking mind trying to maintain the facade. I fantasized about Gregory all day, sometimes even considering if I should spy on him at school through the windows. Any sane person would ignore such a thought outright, but not me. I agonized about every detail. The logistics, the risks, the potential consequences, my excuse if I was caught. In the end I just consigned myself to masturbating in his bed again. It made me feel closer to him when he was gone.

All I had to do was wait. Wait one more week until summer vacation and then I had 3 months of uninterrupted time with him. My Gregory.

***

The time had come. After one final, agonizing, week of school, he hopped in the rear passenger seat and buckled up.

"Hi daddy!" He sang.

Music for my soul. His bouncy demeanor marked him as quite excited for the coming break from school. We even stopped to get fast food on the way home and I bought him a meal with a toy. He was ecstatic. He deserved every kindness and gift given to him. He deserved everything I gave him.

The house was quiet when we arrived. I kicked off my shoes at the door and he did the same. Those sweaty striped socks of his padded along the carpet of the living room and into the kitchen, where his footfalls left sweat marks on the cold tile floor. I followed close behind.

He reached up into the fridge on his tippy toes to grab a post-meal snack. I had given him free run of the fridge while his mother was gone. It was our little secret. Over the weeks his lithe frame began to bulge outward ever so slightly; especially around his belly and thighs. His pants got tighter and his shirts would ride up over his tummy when he reclined back. It made me hard every time.

He made his way back to the living room to slouch on the sofa while he ate his snack. There was the tummy peeking. I sat near him and turned the TV on to the cartoon channel. Asinine drivel, fit for a special ed class, but he loved it. I turned the volume up for his enjoyment and began my own feast for the eyes.

His hot feet were up on the coffee table. Another one of our little secrets while mom wasn't around. I stared at them for a while, taking in their softness and shape, imagining myself shoving his smelly socks in his face and listening to his soft whimpers as he tried desperately to avoid sniffing his own stink. My dick was rock hard, and I started to stroke it through my pants while staring at him.

He was so engrossed in his show that he didn't notice a single thing I was doing. My movements were slow and deliberate, like a lion stalking its prey. I would slowly move my gaze to look at his face, then follow his eyes to the screen, and then back to his feet again. I was watching him closely, waiting for any signs of recognition or suspicion, but all that escaped his lips were sweet little giggles at the excuse for humor on the screen.

Later, after dinner that evening, he finished off the pint of ice cream we had picked up the day before. Watching him regain his baby fat over the past weeks made me realize just how much I loved watching him eat. Every mouthful he scarfed down I imagined covered in my hot musky cum. His mouth was my property, and he was addicted to greedily gulping my spunk.

I was pulled back to reality by his waddling back to the kitchen for another glass of chocolate milk; another purchase which had been gone through in a couple days. No doubt I would need to pick up more the next day. His pudgy tummy demanded it of me, and I was all too happy to provide.

***

The first week of summer vacation was much the same as the weeks prior. We would watch TV or play games in our free time, and eat good food for every meal. Sure, the wife would video call, but it was few and far between. Sometimes not even once a week. Gregory didn't seem to care much, though; our little secrets and indulgences far outweighed any sorrow for her absence in his mind. He was daddy's boy now, through and through.

He was all mine.

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