You brain has been picked by nasty sin and dark pleasures, and you fucking love it. You grin wide as you listen to your sac gurgle, finding yourself thinking fucked up thoughts about your son's predicament. 

You think that it it's hot in there, uncomfortably so. You can see sweat running down his soft little baby body, the air so muggy that it's hard to breath. You hope there isn't even any fresh air, just the same dank stink of your cum, the oxygen dwindling thin. 

If you think hard and search your recent memory, you can tell that Chris's screams and struggles are louder and more energetic than they were before. The gurgles are getting deeper and longer. The tingling feeling is getting stronger as well. You stare hard at your squirming scrotum, wishing you could see inside and witness what you hope to be your son's final moments. You settle for imagining it.

Inside your burning sac, Chris is beyond distraught. Your sick little game had long since become unfun for him, but his time in the shallow pool of cum has been his worst time yet. The thick slime stung at his eyes and clogged his nose, trickling down his little throat and making him gag and choke. The two big testes beat into him, hard lumps of flesh that endeavored to push him under the cum's surface and press his arms, legs, and face deeply into the yielding nutflesh. 

And now his body was starting to tingle. Sting. It felt like thousands of little needles sticking into his body. His stomach, too, was feeling the burn. His infant brain had no way of knowing his Father's cum had turned acidic, and was starting to eat away at his supple young body. The pain grew to be unbearable, and Chris thrashed in the pool of cum, sending you into a stratosphere of bliss as you rubbed against his sensitive sacskin faster and harder. Little streaks of pink slip out into the cum around him, soon deepening into red. 

You masturbate yourself furiously to his tortured throes, his mounting screams vibrating your sizzling skin. It starts to fade after a few minutes, the fight leaving your son as more and more of him is dissolved. Your tongue lolls out and drools saliva down your neck as the handprints get less and less distinct, just little featureless imprints in your scrotum. 

Your balls bubble and gurgle as the movement dies down. You keep yourself at the very tip of orgasm for as long as possible, edging your perverted pedopenis until you feel like your entire being is going to explode. 

Esctatic screams rip out from your throat as your massive testicles seize up, your inches-big cockslit gaping open and belching up the biggest load the world has ever seen. Powerful jets of cum hit your face like little slaps, bouncing off and flying all over the room. Rope after rope is pumped out from your full balls, splattering yourself and the room behind you. 

A dollop of it trickles off your nose and onto your tongue. The flavor of your virile seed mixed with bitter copper explodes on your nose, sending you deeper into evil orgasm. 

Minutes later, when the liquified remains of your son are painted across the room and your cock is softening back to it's regular size, you open your eyes to take in the carnage. Your spent dick gives a little twitch at the sight of your son's crib and toys streaked with bloody cum. It's managed to cover almost the entire nursery, a mostly pink mess with streaks of white and red. 

A crazed smile cracks your lips as you spy a soggy lump hanging off the edge of the crib. You walk over to it, feet sliding in the cummy floor, and pick up the cum-covered diaper. For whatever reason, it had yet to be digested by your voracious balls. In the cup of the diaper is a perfect pool of pink and white. 

You shove your face into the soft center, slurping up the cum and blood pooled within. Delicious.