DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional. It is intended to be read by a strictly adult audience only. If it is illegal for you to read stories of this nature where you live, then stop now. The story involves sex between consenting male adults and its themes include incest, humiliation and domination so if you are easily offended, do not read any further.
Many thanks for all the messages and for your positive comments. Sincere apologies, for the delay, however, the next chapter is almost ready to go. Do hope you like it. ENJOY!!
Again, if you do have any comments or suggestions, it would be great to hear from you...F
Not My Fathers Son...PART 4
I continued to lick his boots enthusiastically. I wanted to please him, please my master, my sadistic god like father. He had just continued to sit there, his powerful legs spread wide, engrossed in the TV. Rubbing his trouser covered crotch, he would occasionally look down at me, kneeling between his legs. Watching my eager tongue work on his boots, he would bark orders.
`' More tongue, you fucking faggot, let me feel that pig tongue on the leather you dirty little cunt and show some gratitude boy'' he laughed. Then he would bring the belt down swiftly on my now, nearly raw, ass.
`'Thank you master, thank you for allowing this worthless faggot the honour of licking your boots clean master'' I whimpered.
I was beginning to understand how to please him. I was learning quickly and he was savouring every minute of his cruel tutorial. I was his slave, his pig, his fucking dog. I was his personal faggot, to do with as he pleased.
I do not know how long I spent on my knees between his legs but my tongue now, in addition to every other part of my battered body, also ached. I was lost in a trance when he suddenly shouted out.
'Fucking yes'' and he dramatically punched the air. He jumped up out of his seat 'fucking yes'' he repeated. `' Now, that deserves another drink and a bit of a fucking celebration asswipe'' he looked down at me, egotistically. His team had won the game.
He dropped the belt holding my neck and walked off behind me. I heard him refill his glass with ice and whiskey. He quickly returned and he was standing beside me again. I knew better than to look up so I kept my eyes focused on the floor.
`'Now, that is a real man's fucking game but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, you filthy fucking homo'' and he kicked me hard in the ribs with his glistening boots. He grabbed the belt again, forcefully pulling my head up.
`' Look at me, faggot'' he ordered. I looked up and he just sneered back at me. A look of contempt covered his face again. Holding the belt tightly, he took a large gulp of his whiskey.
'What the fuck am I supposed to do with you'' he snarled. 'Well, the first thing I think we need to do is get that fucking piggy tongue of yours and that toilet mouth cleaned out, can't use them when they're dirty from cleaning my boots, can we?'' and he dragged me off to the bathroom.
He positioned me, on my knees, my hands still tied behind my back, in front of the sink. He rummaged around in a drawer for a few moments.
`'Ah, there it fucking is'' and he pulled out a little hard plastic brush that he insisted the maid use for cleaning between the shower tiles.
`'Perfect, now open that toilet mouth cunt and stick out that faggot tongue'' he commanded.
I quickly obeyed and opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out as far as possible. I was extremely nervous again, frightened about what he was going to do. He had confirmed and proved that he was capable of anything.
`'Right, lets get that toilet hole good and clean'' and he grabbed the liquid soap chuckling to himself.
I knelt there as he brought the soap container to my mouth and slowly dispensed some soap onto my waiting tongue. All the time he was looking straight into my eyes, waiting for a reaction. The soap tasted sickly on my tongue.
`'So, lets get that fucking tongue clean, what do you say cunt'' and he began to brush my tongue vigorously with the brush. Starring down at me, he began to work the brush into my open mouth. I instinctively began to gag. I thought I was going to throw up. He could see my reaction and unconcerned, he just continued.
`'No being sick, you stupid cunt or you will have to lick it up and you will really fuck me off''.
He pushed the brush deeper into my mouth, working it around the inside. My stomach began to heave. He pushed the brush to the back of my mouth, heading for my throat. It hurt. I could feel my face redden. I tried desperately to control my gagging. He was clearly enjoying himself.
`'Nearly done, that's a good little shit licker, you do want to have a nice clean piggy tongue and mouth for Daddy, don't you boy?''. I was concentrating on not being throwing up or passing out from his attack on my mouth and I had not heard him properly.
'I asked you a fucking question, asswipe''. I quickly snapped back to reality and slowly tried to nod. ' You are going to be a good faggot for Daddy, I can tell'' and he pulled the brush out of my mouth. The relief was tremendous. I took a deep breath. Suddenly, he pushed me towards the toilet.
`'Okay, faggot, spit that shit out in the fucking toilet'' he barked.
I was kneeling. He was behind me, watching. As I spat out the soapy contents of my mouth, my mind raced.
I was kneeling in front of his toilet. I could not help but imagine him standing here, his cock out, pissing his golden stream into this toilet. However, I knew...I knew that he often came here for a dump. I had seen him come in here in the morning with the sports section of the newspaper. I pictured him sitting here reading, that beautiful muscle ass of his sitting on this toilet seat. Sitting on the toilet seat, that was just inches away from my mouth.
My master, My father...sitting and shitting.
This toilet had seen his butthole. Seen it slowly dilate and watched patiently as he pushed his rich man turds out of his beautiful asshole. It had witnessed him, casually attempt to wipe his hairy shithole clean. Then, as if reading my mind, I heard him growl under his breath.
`'Filthy fucking faggot, you like that fucking toilet, don't you cunt. Well, don't fucking worry shit boy, you will become very well acquainted with that toilet later, faggot!'' With that, he pulled me back into the study.
He stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. Again, he brutally pulled my head up. His huge body towered above me. Looking directly at me, he began to rub his straining packet slowly.
`' You fucking loved kneeling in front of my fucking toilet, didn't you cunt? Thinking about your fucking master sitting there, having a relaxing dump, weren't you faggot?''
I did not know if they were questions or statements. I attempted to answer and he backslapped me hard. I had my answer and remained quite as he continued.
`'That turned you on, didn't it, you filthy fucking homo. You really love your Daddy's muscle ass, don't you cunt? And we've seen just how much you crave the taste of my fucking shit...You fucking dream about worshipping my ass, don't you boy. Dream about worshipping your Daddy's shithole and getting to lick it clean and taste my shit. That is what you dream about cunt, isn't it!''
I humbly nodded in response. Then he spread his legs slightly wider, emphasising his muscle bound legs and thighs.
`'You see the fucking thing is cunt, well, it's a fucking real privilege for a lowlife little faggot like you to get to worship my ass and my butthole and I don't fucking think that you're fucking worthy, cunt'' he bluntly stated.
I remained silent, not sure of exactly what to say. However, my eyes said all that was necessary. They pleaded, implored on my behalf.
`'Why should I allow you the honour, of getting your worthless fucking mouth on my ass boy, or allow you to get that pathetic tongue of yours up my shithole faggot'' he continued. Still holding the belt tightly, he was virtually cutting off my air supply as he sipped on his whiskey.
'Maybe, it is just a thought though, maybe I could fucking train you to be a good ass and shit slave. You would fucking love that, wouldn't you faggot, you'd love your Daddy to train you how to be a good ass and shit slave for your master? ' and he let the belt around my neck to loosen, allowing me to speak.
`' Yes master, yes master I beg you, please, please train me to be your ass and shit slave, I beg you. I would do anything master, anything to be allowed the privilege of worshipping your ass and shithole master''. You could hear the obvious desperation in my voice and it made him laugh loudly.
`' I fucking know that you would do anything to totally worship my perfect straight man ass faggot, any fucking faggot would, but why should I bother to train you cunt'' he asked evilly.
`' But you really need to fucking convince me faggot and you are not doing a good job, boy'' he continued. I was totally stumped. I did not know what to say or do.
`'Might be nice to have a faggot ass slave around the fucking house so I'm going to give you one last chance to convince me asswipe. So get down flat on your stomach and fucking grovel like a fucking dog at its masters feet and tell me just how fucking much you long to worship my muscle ass and my dirty hairy shithole cunt'' and he let the belt drop from his hand. I put my head on the floor and pushed my legs back slowly.
`'Quicker cunt, I'm getting bored of this'' he hollered. I got flat on my stomach as quickly as I could, my face was almost touching his boots. He had said that it was my last chance and I was willing to do or say anything.
`'Lets hear it cunt, tell me how much you want me to fucking train you, tell your Daddy just how much you want to be his little faggot ass slave. Tell your master how you have dreamed of his fucking ass and shithole'' he chuckled '' And make it good, cunt!'' Then I felt his boot come down on the side of my face. He was standing there, one booted foot on my face, drinking his beloved whiskey while lay at his feet. I began to beg and plead.
To be continued...