The full title: To -Catch- Fuck a Predator, with "catch" striked out (this board doesn't allow the HTML code or the tag). Basically, it's a twist on "To Catch a Predator", where a 20something with the looks of a 14-year-old catches, and fucks, a pedophile. Now, there's NO underage sexual activity, since both characters are over 18. And no, it's not a "Hard Candy" knockoff. So, here goes: Down the street from all of us lived a very bad man. His name was Mr. Johnston. That's all we called him, and effectively became the only name we went by. We used to think he was just a nice old man, though "old" was subjective since he was only 42. In fact, he was rather handsome. And he had a great body. And seemed like the kind of guy that would NEVER be that old and not already have a wife and kids. But what no one knew was that Mr. Johnston, the guy who always manned the grill at the block parties, who always paid triple at charity car washes, and had the best-looking house on the block... was a pedophile. But unlike most pedophiles that only liked boys or girls, he liked both. To him, the first sign of puberty was like flicking on the neon "OPEN" sign. He, as it turns out, had TONS of illegal kiddie porn. And one day, he tried to solicit sex from 16-year-old Janie Pell, but she rebuffed. He tried to force himself on her, but she was saved by a combination of some mace and Krav Maga lessons. Surely, such a man would rot in jail for the rest of his days, where he'd be on the other end of rape. But the old "life's not fair" adage rang true when his prosecutor revealed a bureaucratic error that allowed Mr. Johnston to go free. The fuckers! They let a monster on the streets and act as though they had no choice! Well... revenge is a bitch. And right now, revenge took the form of yours truly, Danny Tomms. Despite being in my 20s, I was skinny, kinda short, and looked like a teenager. Except for the fact that I had a thick moss of chest hair and a rather large cock between my skinny legs. I found out that he frequented a chat room at some site that I can't mention. But I found out his screen name ("papabear247-69") and flirted with him with the screen name "schoolboislave" and told him exactly what I knew, somehow, that he would respond well to: near hairless body, wispy pubes, a slowly-growing body, a puny little dick atop two bald little balls, and a ravenous appetite for a hairy daddy to use my hole. I soon found myself being invited to his house. I declined sending him a photo, claiming that it would ruin the surprise. Really, I just needed to shave my chest and further the illusion that I was 10 years younger. I got to his house, which was only a short walk from mine (he didn't know that). I knocked on his door, and he answered. "papabear247-69?" "Who's askin'?" I whispered into his ear "your little 'school boy slave'." He bought my act, hook, line and sinker. He offered me a drink, and I asked if he had any wine. He said no and all he had was vodka. I asked for a big mug. He told me it'd fuck me up and I just coolly and sultrily said, "I can take it, daddy." He handed me the mug and I snatched it with an eager "gimme!" from my mouth. I gagged and said "Got any ice?" "Sure," he said in his deep voice, almost like that of a cartoon giant. Thankfully, he left his glass unattended. I slipped something in there, thankfully without him noticing. He handed me my mug, now with some ice on the top, and we sat down. I pretended to drink it, though he wasn't doing the same. "Watch out, mister. I heard booze impairs your ability to get hard." "Don't worry, little buddy. I never have that problem. The doctor says I could have a healthy sex life until the day I die. And if he's right, my life's not even half over." "I still can't believe your as old as my dad. You must be pullin' my leg. I could believe THIRTY-two, but FORTY-two? Sure you're not just using the old fake-ID trick?" "No. Do you?" "No. I just blow the bartender and he practically pours it down my throat. But I've been saving my black cherry for a special occasion. And here it is." Just then, the stuff I put in his vodka took effect. "Whass gohonn?" He was spluttering. "By now, you should feel a little light. Like you can't move your body, but you're not numb. It's just a mild paralysis, which also will prevent you from sustaining an erection, though if I had my way, that last part would be permanent." By now, he knew he was screwed. "Whaa?" I repeated his "Whaa?" back to him in a mocking tone. "It's something I picked up from someone I go to school with at the community college." He gasped. "And no, I'm not 14. I'm actually 23. And I know who you are, Mr. Johnston. And I know about what you tried to do to me about 10 years ago. But now, I'm not the weak one... YOU ARE! For the next few hours, you are my personal cum rag." I had now stripped off my clothes. And then his. His body was magnificent. Barrel chest, six-pack abs, fat dick, strong legs and manly feet. He also had a coat of salt-and-pepper chest hair. The only thing of mine that seemed to make him jealous was my cock. "Hey, look, Mr. Johnston! My wee-wee's bigger than yours!" At full mast, it'd probably be about 8 inches, almost 5 inches shorter than my 13x6-inch beast. "Hey, you like surprises? Close your eyes and I'll give you one." I opened his lips, now slightly parted, and crammed my dick down his throat. I fucked his tight throat for what felt like hours, though it was only about a half hour before I shot a thick load down his throat. "And that's just the first surprise. Now... here's your next surprise." I grabbed his meaty bod and, strangely, managed to fling it onto the floor, flat on his stomach. My skinny 5' tall frame now sat chest to back with him, my meaty dick slowly working its way into his asshole. I gasped in pleasure as he tried to scream in agony. "Do you think this is how all those boys felt when you stuffed your bear paw into their honey pots? HUH??!!" I was now pounding his asshole with my fat third leg. By now, he had gained some of his faculties and began to scream and cry by how much pain I was causing him. I know that me raping him didn't justify his crimes, but I didn't care. He was still too weak to get up, and despite my mushroom head pounding away at his still-virile prostate, he couldn't get IT up either. But no amount of me pounding his pud battery made his agony any less painful. He was now sobbing uncontrollably, saying that he deserved this and that he was sorry. He also couldn't decide whether he was in hell, just dreaming, or being punished by God. Like God would waste His time with this sick fucker. Before long, each thrust of my veiny flesh lance inside him also seemed to slowly begin to stimulate him, as by now, he was actually started to beg me to fuck him harder. And it wasn't the whole hitting-the-prostate thing since I, now being a sadist towards him, didn't want him to be happy. I felt like hours were flying by. And just then, I felt myself shoot a dozen powerful loads from my massive member. Each one filling his asshole with thick, salty cream. But as I pulled my dick out of him, I shot out a dozen more loads, all over his sinewy, hairless back. I stood up and was shocked to find that he was now standing up. I though he was gonna kill me for raping him, but then... "Thank you, kid. You showed me the true pain I have caused all those young men and women over the years. Now, all those sick temptations seem banished from my mind. Never again shall I touch a minor like that again." He was now rubbing my chest and licking my nipple. I knew then that he was now obsessed with me. Once the skinny little nerd, I now ruled over a more powerful man than I. Because of what I did to him, he had become unable to achieve an erection. He didn't bother, since to him, the only erection that mattered was the one, not between his legs, but mine. He worshiped me and me big dick. Every day, I would come over to his house to "do chores for Mr. Johnston", but it was HE who was doing the work. I, the prey, tamed the predator... and now, he was MY prey.