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Naruto was four when it started. So unbearably small and young and forbidden, but so utterly his, that he really couldn’t help himself. He just had to.
So Naruto – his son, the only one left on Earth that he could call family – had been four when it had started. Now he was fifteen, and even though he could clearly remember swearing to himself that day over ten years ago that it would only happen that one time, he still hasn’t been able to stop.
Knows now that he never will, that he had been foolish to believe that he had it in him to do so, not when his precious little boy looked so beautiful.
He had cried that first time – of course he had, he was just four and a kid and it should have been obvious to him from the start – and it had shocked him to his core, almost rattled him enough to pull it out when he had heard his son start to bawl like the world was ending.
But then he had looked up to his face, and his cheeks – swollen with baby fat and bright red – were glistening with tears, his plump lower lip caught between his teeth and his blond hair all rustled up and he had been lost, unable to stop himself from pushing that thin object in just that little bit further, seeing the rim giving way to the slight force he put onto it.
He hadn’t like the sounds though, hadn’t been able to stand the echoes of his child’s unease and hysterics, and the lollipop had just laid there so conveniently nearby that it hadn’t taken long until he had removed one of his hands from Naruto’s thighs, gotten and unwrapped the sweet, and placed it in the four year old child’s mouth.
And his soft pink lips had closed around the object so quickly, cheeks hallowing briefly – and really, that hadn’t made his mind move any nearer to the exit of the gutter – and the noise grew blessedly quieter. God yes.
He had tried it, pushed in further, moving it around more in small circles, and had smiled to himself very pleased when the only reaction it had gotten had been more tears and even fiercer sucking, and he knew so clearly that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.
It had only evolved from there. A pen had turned into a small dildo which had turned into a larger one, and so on and on and on. Even after his son had grown big enough not to tear and he finally had been able to put his cock in, the toys and other object kept growing bigger, like he had some weird dream to see just how far he’d be able to stretch his boy.
The only thing which hadn’t grown or changed had been the lollipop, it was always the same kind and only to be used when he had Naruto bared naked and stuffed full.
In retrospect, he knew it had been no more than a bribe, a simple way to make his son go along with what he wanted to do. If you’re good you’ll get a treat, and don’t you want one, Naru-chan? Only good boys get treats.
And Naruto had always been so eager to please, craving attention and doing his utmost to be noticed, had been so easy to sway to do his bidding, no matter how strange he thought it was. He’d just continue to suck on his candy, looking so pleased that he had made his father happy.
Minato reached for the next toy.