'You're havin a fuckin laugh, ain'tcha? Sike's boy?'
The hefty shape of the officer filled the cell door. He glanced behind to doublecheck no-one was near and then back at the two prisoners in the dingy cell. One was a chunky white man in his mid-40s with bald head and shaved grey hair around the sides, lying down on his bed reading a magazine, propped up by one bulging arm; his slightly soft-edged muscularity displaying both his residual strength and a lazy, couldn't care less attitude. The other was mid 30s, rough skinned and dark haired, tight angular features; leaner, meaner and hungrier, face in a semi-scowl. He was sat with his back to the wall, headphones round his neck, a faint regular tss tss rhythm leaking from them.
'Yeah. So? He'll never fuckin find out. The kid's shit scared of being labelled a homo. Quite right too. He won't fuckin tell. Knows what's good for him.'
The older prisoner rubbed his chin, still puzzled. 'So... Apart from bein a cocky fucker, what's he done?'
The officer grunted in amusement. 'Well, me n Harry knocked some o that cockiness outta him last week... Know what I mean?' A grin.
The younger one cast a quizzical look at his cellmate and mouthed 'Harry?'
The officer answered the question for him. 'New on the team. Listen, you don't need to know what I know. You don't like the kid. End of story. He runs rings round you lot every single game and doesn't mind letting you know it. I'm givin you a chance to give him some serious grief without anyone knowin. Fuckin golden opportunity.'
The younger of the two prisoners stared hard at the uniformed figure. 'Yeah, I get that... But what's all this queer shit about?'
Patience. He's a bit thick, is Skunner. Not his fault. Fuckin born that way, eh? 'Like I said, Sike's fuckin using him, like some substitute bitch. Regular too. The lad's totally straight but playin along to save his skin. I'm just uppin the ante, y'know...' Pause to savour the thought. Mmmm. 'Playin with him. I wanna see him fuckin crack.'
The longstanding beef with Sike went unsaid. They didn't need to know. He carried on.
'Besides, we can't just smash him up, though that'd be better, course. Awkward questions, y'know. Kid's gotta be able to keep it secret. We break a few bones, he ain't gonna be able to. And Sike'll start askin some, how should I put it... awkward questions.'
The older guy nodded slowly, swallowing the officer's convoluted argument hook line and sinker. The other still looked dubious; he was pretty certain the screw was bent and suspected something underhand, but couldn't prove it.
'Still sounds fuckin weird.'
His cellmate countered him with a shrug. 'Wouldn't mind a good blow job meself. Feel the fuckin same, won't it? If Sike can fuckin get away with it, we can.'
The younger man grunted dismissively. 'Always thought Sike was a cunt. Now I know he's a cuntin homo too.'
'You wanna nip round and tell him that? Ha. I'll come to the funeral.'
And there was the truth of it, the younger man realised, despite what he'd just asserted. Unlike Phil, Sike couldn't be. He just couldn't be. Toughest bloke on the wing. Nutjob, sure, but no homo. And if it was OK for him... His visceral distaste for the idea of sticking his knob in a bloke's gob wouldn't shift totally, but there were twin deep-seated desires to fuck and humiliate which had been denied for far too long. Far, far too long. He pictured the whole bunch of em, taunting the lad, forcing him down... Viciously slamming his face one after the other. Hmm. Guess if they all did it, it might be OK... Just a bit of a laugh. Nothing more.
He glared at the officer, years of institutional distrust stacked into high walls. 'What's the fuckin reward? I ain't doin it for nothin.'
His look was calmly met. Phil had known this would be part of the deal.
'What ya want? Dope?' A knowing smirk. 'Blow for blow?'
The older prisoner smirked along with him and idly reached inside his trackies to scratch his nuts. The electricity of conspiracy, anticipation and reward was giving him a pleasing buzz. Prison was sheer repetitive boredom most of the time, so anything to break the tedium was worth a shout. Sike would never find out.
'Sounds like a deal to me. What about you Skunner?'
His younger cellmate looked over, edgy mind running at high-speed. He wasn't a fuckin queer, nor was he a fuckin coward, except when it involved someone like Sike. That had set alarm bells ringing immediately. Everyone knew not to mess with that mental fucker. Surely this was just askin for trouble? But his fuckin cellmate was up for it, and when it came to the crunch he wasn't gonna be left out lookin like a wuss. Not when there was free weed on offer. He stared. The sibilant rhythm from his headphones permeated the small room.
'OK. I'm in. Want the gear upfront though. What about the others?'
Safety in numbers, man. Safety in numbers...
'Kev'll be up for it. Crazy fool. Not sure about the other two. Dannyboy maybe. I'll ask him, yeah?
'Yeahhh. You do that. Fuckin make sure no-one's listenin.'
His mate nodded slowly. 'I'm safe.' He turned his attention back to the doorway. 'So when's the party?'
'Week on Friday. We'll play you lot last so no-one'll be around to get in the way after. Don't worry, I'll find somethin to make you all late. One of the others'll take the rest out. Harry'll be there too.'
'Sorted.'
The officer nudged the head of his fat prick through the pocket lining. Yeah. Sorted.
Jack was on his own in the cell, sweating, shorts on and nothing else. His dad had gone out to meet a visitor and left him with a routine to finish, which he diligently was. His body was feeling good again, the shoulder injury now only pressure pain on the bruise. Changes were starting to be visible in his muscles, the regular work paying off, though the big guy had promised to get him doin some weights at some point. Gonna make yer dad proud, intcha Jack? Luckily the weather had turned since the night of the storm, and even though the air in here was never too fresh the atmosphere felt easier to exercise in.
He did one final plank for good measure and stood up to stretch. He slurped three cups of water, then splashed his head and face thoroughly, enjoying the feel of the residual burn in his limbs. He tensed his stomach and punched it hard a few times. Harder still. Gettin better, Jack. He stood contemplating for a moment, acres of time to kill. Just another afternoon banged-up. Washing-up duty in the kitchen later (everyone was supposed to do something 'useful' at some point, like they fuckin cared) but that was hours away.
Then he remembered his promise to Rob. Hmmm. Him and his big mouth. It was probably gonna get him into trouble, but nothin too serious, surely? Now was as good a time as any: Sike wouldn't be back for half an hour at least.
Crouching down to look under the man's bed, he pulled out a porn mag from the middle of the pile. The young woman on the cover had one hand hiding her pussy and the other trailing her little finger from her tongue. Come on, do me Jack. Dirty blonde tousled hair, pretty face with enticing eyes and full lips, smooth skin and nicely rounded tits. His dick stirred and he rubbed at it through the shorts: he'd like to give it to her alright.
He flung himself down on his bed with the mag and quickly opened it to see what the centre page spread was... Yeahhh, that'd do. The same woman, naked, straddling a handsome man dressed in shirt and tie on a reclining leather chair next to a desk. Typical office setting. His thick prick was protruding monstrously from the open fly of his black trousers, thrusting into her tight, shaved pussy. She was in the act of rubbing her nipples as she got fucked, an expression of ecstasy on her petite features. Large, tanned hands held her firm at the waist.
('A whole fuckin pile? Shit. You lucky fucker.' 'Yeah. Guess I am.' Jack grins; Rob all but drools in envy. 'Get me somethin, will yer mate. Pleeeeze. Just a page or summit. Young n white's always hot...')
Jack stared at it for a moment, mouth hanging lightly open, his dick fighting against the fabric of his shorts. She was feelin that meaty weapon alright. He checked the pages either side to make sure it wouldn't be obviously missed, then carefully eased the centre spread free from the staples of the magazine and folded it up a number of times. He reached over to his jeans, slung messily on the end of the bed, and slipped it into a back pocket. One job done. He pulled off his shorts and sat up against the wall, thumbing the pages back.
He settled on another pic of the same woman with the same guy, her sat on the floor with her back to a filing cabinet, pinned into place by the chunky tool. Jack looked intently at the sight of her moistened pink-lipsticked lips being stretched wide. Yeah, you like that don't you bitch? Tasty, innit? Made to be sucked. Involuntarily, he pictured the sight of his dad's monster tool rising in front of him last night. Come on, time to do yer duty, son. Him nodding in a trance and licking his lips. Just like she would have done. He squeezed his pulsing member, his mind picturing the steady motion of the steely crotch there before him. Willing submission to total male power. The pleasure spread up his body as his hand instinctively worked himself. He flicked some more pages, keen to see the controlling man's figure revealed and a more graphic demonstration of the size of his body over hers.
There. Another shot of her getting fucked, this time on a desk, legs spread at the edge. There were two men doing her now. What looked like the original one had his white shirt loose and unbuttoned showing a glimpse of firm six pack, and his trousers were gone revealing his wide, muscular hairy legs pressing up to the desk, his hands firmly gripping her slender thighs. His fat, dark member was plunging into her inviting hole; the horny, raw fuck in action. The other man, at the left hand side of the shot, was beginning to feed his length into her mouth, her head tilted backward over the edge to receive it.
Yeahhhh. Double dose, spit-roast. Jack stared enviously at the sexy scene. She was really gettin what she needed. Her flawless young figure being screwed at either end... With an almost physical jolt, he suddenly remembered that dark, brutal hour with the two officers in the interrogation room. Him bent over the desk gettin done. Fuck. And with insidious inevitability, the evil officer's threat filled his head again. His mind went haywire with grim anticipation. What was he plannin? When was it all gonna kick off? What the fuck was it gonna be like?
Without comprehending what he was doing, he got up and dragged out the pile of mags, putting the one back he'd been looking at and rummaging through for something else. Yeah, that one. XXX Gangbang Whores. He returned to the bed and flicked through, his heart beating faster now. His dick began to swell with blood again having briefly lost momentum.
There was the victim, a beautiful young brunette, seen from above, a whole bunch of men crowding close around her, some clearly pleasuring themselves as they watched her submitting to their demands. Two of them were pushing their stiff meat right into her face, the two shiny heads touching as they vied for her attention. She had her tongue outstretched to lick both, and was looking up with an expression Jack couldn't quite figure out. It wasn't desire. Fuckin hell.
Jack felt giddy with fear and a sliver of nervous excitement at what he was picturing from the perspective of the attackers. His feverish teenage mind was being dragged down to a deep, dark place by the picture in front of him, transforming the scene into his own prison setting... A gang of real rough geezers surrounding a young lad like him, years of prison frustration fuelling their aggressive sexual assault. Jeering. Shoving. Accusing. You wanna taste some of this, huh? Huh? (no I fuckin don't) You do, don't yer, boy. Yeah, he does. (m'fuckin straight) You like that? Go on, get yer gob round it. (got no choice, Jack, just do it...) Yeahhhhhhh. There you go. There you fuckin well go. Suck it like a bitch. That's what you fuckin wanted, huh, queerboy?
Jack's throat felt dry. His stiff meat felt good in his hand, but this was all so wrong in his head. He knew with cold, cold certainty that the reality of it would be terrifying. He'd be lucky to get out alive. And even if he did, others would be sure to find out. Total fuckin nightmare. On automatic pilot, he turned the page to find another four shots of different men going to work on her mouth, the final one displaying a real mess of cum all around her soft red lips, the sticky juice shooting from one of the two fleshy weapons there before her and still dripping from the other. Her tongue was taking most of the fresh load. Oh yeahhhh. You're really gettin it now, bitch. Fuckin taste it.
His mind translated the image again and his stomach lurched once more with horned up confusion. Him on his knees, a crowd of vicious cons jostling for position around him, each one stroking his thick straight dick to ready it for the attack. Desperately trying to please each one, but in the end them ramming his gob with relentless fury, choking him, deep groans of male satisfaction ringing in his ears as load upon creamy load invaded. He shuddered. It was truly insane. How could anyone really want that?
(You said it yourself, Jack. Tough, straight blokes with big dicks need to get em seen to. If there ain't no pussy around... Look at that good stuff she's gettin... All that juicy meat... All that fuckin cum... S'what you're gonna get, innit?)
Breathing quickly now, he flicked through some pages randomly and found a shot of two other women gettin done by four blokes each. He saw their contorted, uncomfortable positions as they tried to take it in every hole and suck two dicks at the same time. Fuck. Jack saw that one had her eyes closed, while the other looked desperately toward the camera. Is this really happening to me, she seemed to be saying... Even as the rough cruelty of the scene engaged his automatic arousal, his hand paused and let go.
(S'what you're gonna get. INNIT?)
Aggggghhhhh. NO. NO. NO. Jack angrily thrust the magazine aside and stared straight ahead to the blank wall opposite. Another dry swallow. He felt a cold sweat there on his forehead, and the thumping in his chest seemed loud enough to fill the grey room. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd fuckin bite one off if he had to. Anything. They weren't gonna fuckin make him. It was different with Sike. Unique. Being put together with him in this cell had been a once in a lifetime thing, and Jack had willingly let the big guy take control: it was his territory after all. But no other bloke had the right to make him submit. He was fuckin straight.
When the muscle man had adopted him that first day - weeks and weeks ago now - Jack's long unfulfilled desire to be with his dad had hit him like a ten ton truck. So much violent pent up emotion had come to the surface, he could barely comprehend what was going on. It was like starting life again from scratch. The teenage bad-boy behaviour which had led him inexorably to this place was all part of the same storyline, and somehow, miraculously even, the strong guidance he'd subconsciously always craved had suddenly come into his life. Fate.
Being made to service his father figure's thick dick wasn't so much sex as ritual for Jack, an integral part of their secret pact. The illicit thrill of doing something so forbidden made him hornier than he could ever have thought possible, despite it crashing head-on into all his long-reinforced straight instincts. The man's brute size and power, the undercurrent of violence in his behaviour, the fearful respect he instilled in other men: all these things inspired the lad's admiration. And every time the man's sexual superiority was forcefully demonstrated Jack found himself turned on. But there was nothing homo bout it. He knew he wasn't, and neither was his dad.
Prison rules. Power rules.
The fog seeming to clear from his mind, he leapt over to the porn mags again and shoved the gangbang one at the bottom of the pile. You can fuckin stay there. He hastily searched for the one he needed to see, and found it. The one with the dead ringer for Sike in it. He went and slouched back on his bed with the mag to one side and quickly found the picture he needed to see: one of the ones he'd been shown that amazing night when he'd been fucked by his dad for the very first time. There it was. There it fuckin was. Fuck yeah.
The mature, beefy tattooed guy on the bed, biceps bursting with energy, doin the young, smooth n slender blonde girl underneath him like a pro, her legs spread wide as he leaned over her and his hard, vital manhood worked its way inside. Jack could just imagine her squeals of ecstasy and the man's deep grunts filling the room. So. Fuckin. Hot.
The now familiar twisted wank fantasy began to reassert itself, the wave of animal craving sweeping through and carrying him out on a river of submissive lust. He was standing there in the room watching his dad's motherfuckin dick driving into her again and again, the sexy contrast between his tattooed hulk and her perfect feminine beauty. Yeahhh dad, go for it. You're the fuckin man... You're the fuckin best... His dad looks toward him, mid-action. You want some o this son? The vision is so strong Jack nods slowly in reality and shifts his legs wider.
His left hand reaches down to touch the tender skin beneath his nuts as his right hand pumps furiously to take him to the finish line. Yeahhhh dad. Just wanna try it. Wanna feel it slidin in there. He glances down at his own smooth, fit body and imagines the tower of muscle over him, the hugeness of his tough-nut dad rightfully claiming his territory. Fuck. He sees what the blonde girl sees, and her ecstasy is his.
Another glance at the picture. Dad's sexy bull-dick penetrating the smooth, pale, blonde girl. Proper straight bloke domination. She's really gettin it... S'what you're gonna fuckin get, innit? Fuck yeah. Oh fuuuck yeahhhh. Jack's vision blurs and his muscles tense. A rope of cum shoots straight up his chest.
The following afternoon. Sike was in a good mood. Another deal goin through which was gonna make him and the guvnor a fair stack. The day he finally got outta this place he'd be nicely set-up, to be sure. No fuckin jobcentre shit for him, ever. He'd let the old geezer know that him and Jack were gettin on just fine, that he was training the lad up to help him out. The man had smiled in his usual inscrutable way and said he'd heard as much. Sly old fucker. If he knew though, so what? He was gettin money from Sike's main contact for doing relatively little. And money talks.
He sat on his bed up against the wall, chunky hands clasped around the back of his head. Time to think. Well, there was always plenty o time to think in here; could drive you mad if you weren't careful. He thought about the last month and grinned to the empty room. His boy. It was fuckin amazin the way things had worked out in so short a time, it really was. Regaining a son after all these years.
(You're never gonna see the real one again, are yer? Flash of red behind the eyes. Don't think about that fuckin BITCH and what she did... Move the fuck on.)
Obedient lad. Talented lad. Handsome lad. He'd shaved the boy's head this morning because it needed doing, and because he said so. No 1 setting. Looked good on im. Proper little soldier.
Jack's revelation that he was effectively fatherless and had been for many years, well that had really fired Sike up. Everything just locked into place at that point. He closed his eyes and remembered gazing down at the cute eager face in the red gloom, the sudden rush of realisation, the surge of arousal in him as the reality sunk in: the fantasy he'd brooded over for so long finally here in the flesh. He's here now, son. Yer dad's here now...
Seeing the straight lad's dazed n awestruck expression at the sight of his big, strong dad's tackle, hard and ready before him. Just something so perfect about it. Having total control. Making the lad wait if he felt like it, then giving permission and watching that young mouth do what it did so well. He breathed a deep breath of manly satisfaction. His boy was a complete natural: knew how to suck and swallow exactly like a sexy bitch would. Better, even. Real smooth. Yeahhhhh. Every fuckin day too. The keen snake strained against his scruffy jeans and he reached down to adjust it.
His thoughts wandered back to the present... He'd had to give someone the benefit of his fist this morning for making a hand gesture at the lad behind his back. The guy had seen him coming and stood up, trying to stammer out a useless apology. Too fuckin late, mate. Thwack. The stupid fuckwit had gone flying with a dislocated jaw. That was sufficient. Sufficient for the recipient, sufficient warning for everyone else nearby watching. The screws had deliberately not looked; they never did when he was involved. No need. He'd nodded briefly at Jack before strolling casually back to his seat to eat. There you go son. That's the deal.
The lad was out playing footy again, probably. Stupid fuckin game. Still, it was good for him to have a run around in the fresh air. He reached down again to play with his hard meat and felt the familiar, good sensation spread. Oh what the fuck, there'll be more for him later. The man delves under his bed for a particular porn mag but pulls out a different one. Hmmm. Odd. Leaning down over the side of the bed, he brings out the whole pile and quickly runs through it. Definitely not the order he'd left em in. THAT one was definitely not the last in the pile.
Well, well, well...
Who's been a bad boy, son? Looking at my stuff without permission and gettin yer rocks off, are yer? Sike shoved the pile back and lay down on his bed, the wank forgotten with the sudden hammering of surprise in his skull. Yeah, so he wants to see some pussy. That's only natural, innit? Lads will be lads... Wry grin to the blank ceiling. Yeah. But all the same, it's my stuff... Gotta have permission to look at my stuff. Did he think his dad was stupid or something not to have noticed?
The grin was replaced by a frown. Don't try to get the better of me son, not if you know what's good for you. He felt the residual anger that was always there beneath the surface, waiting for an excuse. He'd have to think of an appropriate punishment, wouldn't he? And if the lad lied about it to him, well... THEN there would be trouble. Serious trouble.
'Oi. What you got there, mate?'
'Umm... Jack gave it me. He snuck it out from some porn stash Sike's got.'
'Oh right... Lucky im. C'mon, let's have a look then.' The dark hand reaches out, the piece of paper is reluctantly handed over. Sharp intake of breath and a low whistle. 'That's well tasty.'
'Fuckin right. She's hot, int she?'
'Can I, er, borrow that from yer sometime?'
The eyes give the real message: say no, and I'll smash yer face in.
'Course you can, mate. Anytime.'
They understand each other.
Leisure time over. Jack was in a fairly upbeat frame of mind as he wandered with the others back to the cells. Only being watched intently by Harry in the kitchen earlier had caused him some unease. Hunter and prey. A creeping awareness on Jack's part that time was running out.
Rob had been over the moon ('Mate, that's the fuckin business!') and Jack had felt pleased to have helped out his friend, though also fairly relieved to be rid of the thing. Searches did happen, wherever and whenever, particularly if you showed the slightest sign of having something to hide. That said, to the best of his knowledge the cell he shared with Sike hadn't been searched at all. Ever. Must be something to do with the big guy, he thought, and the various screws he was friendly with... He still didn't get the whole set-up, and his dad seemed reluctant to reveal too much.
He was back in the cell first and flung himself down on the bed. Reached down beneath for the cards (his pack and his dad's) and shuffled the two packs together thoroughly. A good hour to kill before lights out. His dad hadn't fed him the juice yet today, and that filled him with prickling anticipation. Was he in line for something more? It wasn't the weekend yet, but you never know... Horny possibilities slid beneath his skin and young meat responded. He pulled out a couple of cards at random: jack of diamonds, king of spades. Hmmm. He stared at them a moment before shuffling them back in.
Time seemed to take on a different quality when you were banged up. Everything was decided for you, and you just had to let it happen or go crazy. No use fighting. Only visits from outside broke the routine, and they were limited, of course. In any case, he'd found communication difficult with the few mates who had visited him this past month: they couldn't have understood the way his life had suddenly moved on even while he appeared to be going nowhere, nor could he have explained it to them.
Sike stomped back into the cell and the door was slammed shut moments later. A cloud of cold aggression seemed to follow him in and he didn't acknowledge Jack. Uh-oh. Something up. The teenager watched his dad take off his black T-shirt and the rugged manly torso was revealed to him, the rough mature skin, the fuzziness of his wide chest, the bulging tattooed biceps, the scar on his thick neck. Real fucking powerhouse of a bloke. His dad was a scary fucker, alright. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of Jack's stomach.
The man folded his arms and stood staring at Jack, his mean, stubbled face serious and grim.
'You've got some fuckin explaining to do son. Stand up.'
Fear got the lad on to his feet fast. Shit shit shit. The cards fell haphazardly on the bed, some went on the floor. He stood, adrenaline pumping, the dark tone of his dad's voice sending a chill down his spine. He felt hideously vulnerable.
'What? Wh... What have I done?'
The man jabbed a vicious finger at Jack's face. 'Don't fuckin 'what' me all innocent like. You know, don't you? How about you fuckin apologise, and then maybe, just maybe, I won't be quite so rough with you.'
Jack blinked. Where had this come from? There'd been no hint of it earlier and then they both went out at the same time. Someone must have said something to him when they were eating, or after when he'd been playing pool with Rob. But there was no time to think it through properly. No time. His dad was the bull again, ready to charge. He panicked.
'I haven't done anything, dad. Really I haven't. Has someone said something?'
'About what?'
'About Phil?'
Sike narrowed his eyes. Interesting. Let's chase this one up for a moment, shall we?
'What about Phil?'
Jack didn't know how anyone could possibly have known, except that Phil might have bragged to someone. 'About him n Harry doin more than just beatin me up...'
Sike stared at him with gritted teeth, breathing audibly and heavily through his nostrils, a bolt of anger slicing through him from head to toe. Now he really was furious. Truly furious. Furious at Phil for his depravity, furious at it having taken this long for him to find out. One thing fuckin leads to another, don't it? He stepped forward and grabbed the terrified lad by the shoulders, his snarling face closing in.
'Why didn't you fuckin tell me before, eh? Eh? Why?' He shook Jack momentarily as he demanded an answer then, aware of his own strength and what he might do by accident if he weren't careful, let go. His lad was trembling and looking down. You promised to look after him, dint yer? Be a good dad, Sike.
Jack was in a zone of total terror now. The secret he'd meant to keep was out. His dad was gonna kill him, he was sure. He stood, rooted to the spot, struggling to speak.
'I... I dunno why. I wanted to, just, y'know, forget it ever happened.'
A grim silence. Jack stared at his dad's boots.
'I see. Anything else you might have forgotten? Hmm?'
Jack swallowed. His dad's anger was not to be argued with: he was on the edge of a cliff here. Everything could so easily go into free fall. 'He said he was gonna fix something else and do me over again with a whole bunch of cons. I dunno if he meant it, but... fuckin seemed like he did at the time.'
Silence. Jack felt the thump thump thump in his chest as a rough hand stroked his freshly shaved head with what would have felt like affection, but for the circumstances. He finally dared to look up. The stubbled face regarded him with severe intent, jaw tight with anger.
'Go and sit on my bed.'
'Yes dad.'
Jack couldn't read the situation at all. Sike seemed suddenly too calm. After the rage he'd just witnessed, it felt wrong. The eye of the hurricane. He sat down looking at the floor, apprehension sending his mind into overdrive. Silence. Eventually he looked up again in trepidation.
The tattooed muscle man was now standing close to the wall opposite, near the sink, head bent to rest against the concrete. The lad watched as the meaty right fist slammed into the unyielding surface and out came a terrible animal growl as he did it. And again. And again. And again. Then he simply bowed his head down further and stood there, taking deep audible breaths, even as Jack held his in, motionless.
No-one came to inspect what was happening. They really don't fuckin give a shit, do they, thought the lad. It's just me n him, alone. A minute ticked by at least. The rest of the prison seemed strangely hushed.
Finally, Sike turned around and faced his son across the small space, blood on the knuckles of his hand. Jack stared in rapt terror at the menace emanating from him. He stepped forward slowly to stand closer to the boy and spoke very deliberately, as if making a great effort to control himself.
'Right. I'm gonna make this real simple. Reeeeeal simple. Just so that you know exactly how it's gonna be. I've told you this before, and I don't like havin to say things twice, so make sure it gets in that STUPID THICK skull o yours this time...'
He jabbed at the boy again with a meaty finger, right into the terrified young face. Jack visibly cowered.
'You tell me stuff, yeah? Anyone fucks with you, you tell me about it the same day. The same, FUCKING DAY. And you tell me everything. I mean, EVERYTHING. You don't leave no details out. Got it? I'll decide if it isn't important.' A quick fearful nod. 'Then I'll fuckin be able to deal with it right. You answer to me, you train with me, you do stuff for me, and yeah, you suck my motherfuckin tool... cause it shows you who's in control, dunnit?' Another nod of understanding. 'That's the deal, and that's how it's gonna be for as long as I'm around. You got me for life. I mean it. There ain't no goin back now, kiddo: you wanted yer dad, YOU FUCKIN GOT HIM.
The deep angry voice surrounded him. His dad was setting out the rules. Jack nodded again more vigorously to show he took it all on board and stared up deep into the man's dark eyes: so this is what he'd meant by takin it to the next level. A dry gulp. You're in at the deep end now, Jack. He's fuckin gotcha good. No escape, even when you leave. You're his son. In the middle of his fear, he felt weirdly high, intoxicated almost. Dad wasn't gonna leave him. No. And that's what you wanted, right? Right.
The man looked at his cute son's wide-eyed expression, the soft lips dumbly parted, the hurt, terrified eyes piercing deep into his loveless heart. The emotional bruises he'd hoped to erase. Reminding him... Why do you fuckin do this to me? Extraordinary tension and passionate anger knotted up within. He cared far too much already, but there was nothing to do now but ride the feeling. Life goes where it goes, dunnit? It's what you wanted, man, so get a fuckin grip. He's yours now. Your responsibility. You're gonna fuckin sort this shit out.
Wanting an affirmative reply, he grabbed his son's chin firmly and leaned down to bring his face close. 'You understand?'
Jack could see every bristle, every line. Felt the man's hot breath on his face. Felt the rough hand gripping him like a vice. He tried to make his voice sound calm and confident, but he couldn't keep his ripped-up emotions in check. 'Yeah. I understand, dad. Won't fuckin let yer down again. Promise.'
Sike stared hard for a further few seconds and then let go. 'Good. Cause I'm not gonna have a son who doesn't do what his fuckin dad tells him.'
The threat of violence was implicit and Jack understood it. Break the rules and there'll be consequences. You could still get hurt bad if you're not careful.
'Gotcha.'
For life. Fuck. His mind reeled, punchdrunk. He remembered his tough-nut dad saying before he would look after him post-prison, and that had given Jack the most incredible buzz, cause no-one had ever really seemed to care about him that much before. But he'd stupidly assumed that once out in the wider world this ritual of service would end, that Sike would find women to satisfy his needs, that they'd end up being mates or something...
Wrong. His dad was making this a long-term deal. Nothing was ever gonna change. And despite his straight instincts yelling abuse at him in his head for finding pleasure in his submission, Jack knew the truth: he needed his dad more than anything... All those years without, his mum sleeping her way through the days, the truanting from school, learning to intimidate (easy when you got a knife, innit?), getting into trouble, losing his way, crossing the wrong people... You wanted yer fuckin dad, you fuckin got him. Yeah. He was gonna do whatever it took.
'And you won't ever lie to me.' It was a statement, not a question.
'No dad.'
Sike nodded and stared. The trap was laid. He tapped at his stubbly chin with a meaty finger and contemplated for a moment. The lad looked uneasy, as well he might.
'So then. What's the other thing you haven't told me?'
Jack gaped, the horrible sense of panic surfaced again, like in one of those recurring nightmares he couldn't quite shake. What? I told you... Then the belated realisation dawned that maybe the thing with Phil hadn't been it after all... Oh man. He really was a fucking idiot sometimes. He must have been talking about the porn pic all along. Shit. It hardly seemed possible that he could have found out so soon, but there really was nothing else Jack could have done wrong. The trouble was, as he well knew, that he hadn't offered the information himself: his dad was having to interrogate him for it. And the interrogation wasn't random. His heart sank like a stone down the deepest of wells. You complete fuckwit, Jack. What the fuck have you done?
Sike drilled his stare into the lad's eyes. Don't let me down son. Don't let yer dad down. We got a good thing goin here, but I won't put up with any shit from you. Don't make me mad... He waited, his bloodied fist clenching tight again.
Jack couldn't take the stare and looked down the man's boots once more, ashamed and afraid. Come out with it. Don't make it worse. He knows. He fucking knows. You gotta tell him everything. You promised... He spoke quietly to the floor.
'M'really sorry dad. I... I looked at yer porn without askin. Boasted about it to a mate the other day. Didn't mean to, but me mouth got the better of me.' He sniffed. 'He begged me for something, sounded right fuckin desperate, so I had a look through and took out a page. And... Course I got horny seein them sexy girls gettin done, so I had a wank too.' He felt a tear in his eye. Don't fuckin cry, you fuckin loser. 'M'sorry. I only ever done it the once though. Today.'
That was the complete truth, but Jack felt like all the strength had drained from him. Would his dad believe him? His head was swimming. The room was too small. His dad's cage. Nowhere to run.
Sike watched his son carefully, with a certain measure of relief. That was more fuckin like it. Now we're gettin somewhere. Still, better make sure this lesson doesn't get forgotten in a hurry... Only one fuckin way to do that.
'Look at me.'
The lad looked back up the tank of torso, past the broad shoulders and thick scarred neck. His mean n muscled father figure looming over him.
'You never take my stuff without asking permission. Never. Understand?' A small nod from the lad. 'Take the belt from my jeans and hand it to me.'
Dread seeping into his bones, Jack had to do exactly as he was told. His hands trembled a little as he fumbled with the buckle for a moment. Reluctantly pulling out the leather, his gaze settled on the big guy's intimidating crotch right there before him. He sensed the shape of the beast within pressing against the scruffy blue jeans; the size and strength of the man. His well-hard straight dad. He felt weak. The snarled words from the first day flooded back... Ain't a gay thing, it's a power thing. I'm gonna own you. Yeah, that's the fuckin reality of it, Jack. And you deserve what's comin, don't cha? Been a bad boy.
'Now lean over the bed with yer feet on the floor.'
'Yes dad' came the subdued reply. As Jack turned to assume the exposed position, he caught a fleeting glance of the man's huge flexing right arm as the belt was folded. Fuck. This was gonna be bad. Real bad. The man wasn't gonna kill him, but he sure was gonna punish him, and of course he had the right to. This is part of the deal, Jack. This is what it's like having him as a dad... Fuckin hell. He gripped the duvet beneath him.
'If you ever fuckin steal from me again, you'll get this on yer bare skin, son. That'll hurt a lot more.'
The muffled reply came back. 'I won't do it again, dad, I promise.'
'You better not.'
Sike didn't mean to hurt Jack for kicks, he simply needed to teach him an important lesson. All the same, he got a kind of cold satisfaction from doing it. The lad was gonna respect his power and authority, or else. If this is what it took... The first strike of the belt elicited a yelp of pain from the kid.
'Shut the fuck up' came the barked command. Jack desperately tried to obey.
Sike could see his son's face screwing up as each blow landed on his behind, the white knuckled hands gripping. This is for yer own fuckin good, son. How many? 30? 40? Nah, make it 50? He made sure the blows landed in slightly different places and in different ways, but always with the greatest force and severity possible.
The terrible cracking sound filled the air, magnifying the torment in Jack's head. He silently pleaded for it to end. It seemed to be going on forever. Agggghhh. Please dad. Gonna be a good boy. Agghhhhhhh. Gonna be. Promise... Agh... Promise... Fuck. Fuck. Please. Stop... He could smell his dad's sweat on the bed and chewed the duvet between his teeth to stop himself crying out again. The real world seemed very far away, if it even existed. Then, suddenly, nothing. He could feel the frantic pounding in his chest. Was it over?
'That'll do for now. Stand up.'
Jack did as instructed, slowly, still trembling slightly. For now? That really fuckin hurt. His eyes still felt slightly moist, and he hoped fervently that the tough guy wouldn't notice. Be a fuckin man, Jack. His dad eyed him steadily and seriously in silence for a moment, sliding the belt back around his jeans.
'Don't do it again, or it'll be double next time, with yer trousers round yer fuckin ankles.' A terse, glum nod. 'Now go and get a porn mag. The one on top'll do.'
Sike wanted to punish the lad a little more, but in a more subtle way. He also wanted to empty his nuts, and the aggression swirling through his head only exaggerated that need.
Jack, confused and surprised, did as he was told, his rear still stinging as he kneeled down. The one on top wasn't one he'd looked at before. He stood back up.
'Pick a page.' Jack quickly flicked through and settled on one of a blonde woman, probably in her 20's, getting fucked from behind by an older, tall, well-muscled tanned guy over the bonnet of a sleek blue TVR, the sun beating down on the two of them. Horny wholesome fucking out in the open air. Another world. The chain reaction of lust kicked in very quickly to counter the pain from his backside, and he felt his groin stir into life.
'That one.'
'OK. Get yer dick out and start jerkin.'
'What, here and now?'
Sike glared at him and deadpanned the reply. 'No, fuckin Christmas.'
Jack couldn't believe his dad was making a joke at a time like this, and stared blankly, unsure how to respond. Sike paused for effect. His delay made Jack even more jittery and the lad nearly jumped when the man spoke again quite loudly.
'Of course I mean right now, you fuckin idiot. Now fuckin get on with it. And if you get close to shootin, you tell me.'
It was abundantly clear to Jack that he'd seriously annoyed his dad today. He felt agitated and depressed, wanting to apologise again but not knowing how, wanting things to be normal (well, as normal as they ever were). He nervously did as he was told, unzipping and reaching within his boxers slightly clumsily for his meat, trying to hold the mag at the same time. No choice. He concentrated on the picture, and tried unsuccessfully to block out the closeness of his dad's presence. As if.
The woman was gettin a good seein to, that was for sure. Her top half was pressed against the sports car, and she was pushing her perfectly curved behind a little up in the air to give the man's chunky prick easy access. Mmmm... Nice. Bet that feels good, he thought. There were certainly plenty of big-dicked muscle guys in the world it seemed... Me dad's the biggest n best though, int he? Pride and longing zipped through his skull.
Sike watched his son staring purposefully at the straight-fuck image, working his meat. It was the first time he'd paid the lad's tackle any proper attention. Seemed pretty average, he supposed. Short in porn terms... No wonder the lad felt a little inadequate when he compared it to his dad's. He thought it might be a good thing to remind the kid of that, and unzipped himself to release the monster within his own jeans.
Jack saw this happening and felt the nervous excitement skitter up and down his spine. He was aching to make it up to his dad, to show him his son knew who was boss. Treat that king-size dick with the respect it deserved. He tried to focus again on the horny pic: couldn't let his dad see him showing the wrong kind of interest. Her generous tits were squashed against the shiny metal, her expression one of extreme delight. Trapped between one machine and another. Gettin fucked. Yeahhh. By a proper big straight dick. Like his dad's...
He could see Sike stroking it now, see it lengthening up. Time appeared to go slo-mo. The porn again... She was gettin done by a real bloke, alright. He gazed lustfully at the meat plunging into her, imagining the muscular action of the man's groin. Yeahhhh. He held the porn mag away for a moment and looked down at his own modest tool sticking out of his jeans. His ex had liked it, and she'd enjoyed giving him some fuckin good blow-jobs (another world, again...) but he could see now that it didn't measure up in a man's world. And he was still just a young lad really. Being 19 didn't make him a man.
Sike moved round to stand in front of him, and Jack kept looking down, enthralled by the sight of the two dicks close together. His dad moved in closer still and bent his knees slightly to place Jack's dick next to his own semi-hard member. The lad could see the difference, no question. His dad's meat was probably another three inches longer, and somewhat bigger in girth. Mature male superiority.
'Guess yer old man wins, huh, son?'
'Guess you do... You're the fuckin man, intcha?'
The string of events had left Jack somewhat shellshocked and it showed in his slightly croaky voice. His stiff meat was there in the calloused palm of that big hand, touching his dad's. The heat from the man's exposed top half smothered him.
'Yeahhh. I'm the fuckin man here. Don't you ever fuckin forget it.' He stood up and back, letting go. 'Now put it away: you've had enough fun with that today by the sounds of it. You ain't to touch it again tonight or tomorrow, dy'hear me? Don't even fuckin think about it. You're gonna look after this though.'
Jack obeyed, emotional conflict running rings in his mind. The ache of enforced denial, the desire to do what he was told, the anticipation of being fed. Or fucked. Like that bitch on the sports car. Horny straight lad gettin done by his tough-nut prison dad. He tucked his aching meat back inside and zipped himself up again.
The man took the mag from Jack's unresisting hand and threw it on the bed. 'Take yer T-shirt off son.'
Jack did as instructed and Sike grabbed that too and tossed it next to the magazine. He regarded the smooth youthfulness before him, the nervous look on the lad's handsome face, the vulnerability of him. He definitely knows who's in charge, don't he? Yeahhhhhhh. He felt the continued hardening of his meat under bloodied knuckles. He reached out with his other hand and held the lad's chin up to look directly at him.
'You wanted a strong hard dad, dintcha?
The lad blinked, twice. He nodded, not daring to take his eyes from the man's fierce gaze.
'Well, you got what you wanted. Live with it. Follow his rules. You wanna suck on his big motherfuckin dick now, don'tcha?'
A swallow. Jack wasn't a homo, but that wasn't the point. This was just how it was. How it would always have to be. Another nod, more definite this time. Of course he did...
'Yeahhhh. Please dad.'
A firm hand pushed down on his shoulder.
'Down you go then.'
Jack gratefully sank to his knees, his line of sight running down solid hairy ruggedness to the dirty blue jeans and the fat veiny length being stroked to readiness for him. Oh fuck. Here we fuckin well go again. Gonna make yer dad feel good, intcha? Gonna fuckin do it better than any horny bitch could. Gonna be so fuckin tasty... Hardness surged within his jeans, trapped, untouchable. He licked his lips and swiped his mouth with a fist. This was what it was all about. This was what it was fuckin all about.
Sike stared down at the figure of the lean, fit teenager kneeling before him. His son. He stroked the freshly shaved head, feeling the softness of the dark fuzz brushing against his fingers. There were still shards of anger lurking, but he felt satisfied that the lad had learned his lesson today. And now he had a fuller picture of things with Phil and this other screw. Very useful knowledge. He'd be making some inquiries...
'Look at me.' His boy did. 'Gonna let you into a little secret, kiddo. I've had plenty o birds in my time. Plenty. Some right fuckin goers. None of em sucked my meat as good as you. None of em. And some of em were pretty fuckin good, I can tell yer...'
Jack's young heart swelled with pride. He was doin somethin right at least. A grin spread across his face. 'Thanks dad.'
'No two ways about it, your mouth was fuckin made for this meat. It's fuckin magic. Don't matter that you're straight, does it? Don't matter one fuckin bit.'
Jack nodded in a trance. 'S'right. Perfect fit, innit?' He stared in fearful awe at the vast outline of the muscular figure above him, semi-silhouetted by the harsh cell light. The crushing power in the man's dark n chunky decorated arms.
Sike rubbed his lad's head again, deep arousal and affection spreading warmth from head to toe. Blood surged again and his mighty prick twitched, eager to get goin. 'Well you just keep on fuckin doin it. Yer dad's gonna look after yer, son, just as long as you're good. He'll give yer what yer need...'
The man let go of his firmed up weapon and nodded downwards at his crotch as if to say: it's time, son, it's time. Jack, deep in the grip of buzzing anticipation, saw the signal and obeyed, looking back down to where his dad's engorged shaft was aimed toward him from the open fly. Incredible. Made to be sucked...
It was a glorious sight, alright: the shiny smooth head fully revealed, the moist opening at the tip ready to start teasing his tongue with its salty/sweet promise, the sheer massiveness of it at close range. He leaned forward, smelling the heady scent of his dad's sex, and felt the surge of twisted excitement within himself. Just a straight lad doin his duty, intcha? Total submission. Oh fuck. Here we go again...
His lips stretched around the sensitive end of the rock-hard flesh and his tongue felt the fat shape of it there in his gob. Mmmmm. Fuck yeahhhhh! He was gonna be a good boy. Always. He really was. He'd show his dad. He was gonna make this the best fuckin blow yet.
Sike groaned deeply in approval as he watched his son's mouth take the head of his meat, and half closed his eyes as the waves of pleasure begin to ripple out from where the young tongue was working its way around his sizeable tackle. The lad seemed to know exactly how to do it. He meant every word of his earlier commendation.
'Nnnnnnnnghhhh. That's the way, son. That's the fuckin way. You really know how to suck yer dad's dick, don'tcha? Real fuckin sweet.'
Jack, lips stretched wide and tight around the monster tool, nodded and gently moaned his affirmation. His eyes were fixed on the sight of his dad's proud manhood entering him and, remembering the punishment he'd been given a little while earlier for being bad, felt overwhelmed with emotion. With gratitude. Things were gonna be fuckin good, weren't they? He just had to do what he was told. Promise yer, dad. I fuckin will. I mean it.
The muscle-man continued to regard the horny, horny sight below. His long-held fantasy here before him: his very own son being made to suck on his dad's big straight dick. That bitch had tried to stop him, had tried to take his son away from him... Ha. No-one stops Sike from doin what he wants to do in he end. No-one's gonna keep him from his boy.
'Yeahhhh. It's you n me son. The perfect fuckin team. We were always gonna fuckin find each other, weren't we? Just a matter of time. Never gonna leave you now... You're gonna be suckin on this motherfucker for a long time.'
Jack groaned in horny contentment at the promise. He was gettin into a nice steady rhythm, altering the angle of his head slightly with each easy push forward to stimulate his dad better, feeling the soft inner edge of the tender head as his tongue slid along it, finding the particular spot on the underside his dad seemed to like so much. He was doing his best to make it all properly slick n smooth, helped along by the mouth watering taste which always got his juices flowing... Oh fuck yeah. You know what that is, don'tcha Jack? A hint of the load to come. Mmmmm... It tantalised and hypnotised his senses. He began to work a little further along the massive member, toward the darkness between the man's legs from which it came. Longer strokes now. Slick skin glistened before him.
'Yeah. You love yer dad's big juicy prick, huh? I'm tellin yer, your gob was fuckin made for it.. No word of a lie. It was abso-fuckin-lutely made for it.' Another moan of approval from below.
Sike again placed his hand on the lad's head, this time nearer the back so that he could gently thrust in time with the lad's sensual and instinctive movement. Youthful pale smoothness enticed his manly flesh to go deeper. To control. His eyes began to glaze over in a frenzy of desire as the pace stepped up a notch, the fantasy of dad domination gripping his tough, experienced mind with refreshing vitality. Teenage son sucking his strong hard dad's mature meat. Just as it should be. Fuuuuuck yeahhhhhhh.
Jack felt the primal rhythm enveloping him, raw male lust and heat swamping his face. His dad was in control again, and he was dead ready for that horny facefuckin action the big guy liked so much. He reached up to once more undo the man's belt. No fear this time, just sweet submission to the dominating muscle-man's arousal. He undid the button behind and widened the fly to reach into the dark fuzz within.
'D'ya wanna see my nuts, son?' An enthusiastic nod. Permission given, Jack tenderly lifted the heavy sack out so that it sat at the top of the man's open fly.
'Yeahhhh. There yer go. There's a big juicy load waitin in them. You're gonna be tastin it real soon, son. Real fuckin soon.'
Jack moaned again in horny anticipation and caressed the heavy nutsack in awe, imagining the steamin juice shooting out and filling his mouth. This in turn brought a reciprocal deep groan of pleasure from Sike.
'Yeahhhhhh. Like that. S'niiiiice... Real fuckin nice.'
The lad felt the firmness again pushing inside his own jeans, but he did as instructed and refused to touch it, even to rub at it. He didn't want to get punished again. Servicing his dad was what mattered, and he was gonna fuckin do it right. With the nuts out in the open, the mighty tool looked even longer than before, and it began to plunge more urgently into his welcoming young mouth: a thick, slick piston of male desire, dominating the straight lad fated to service it.
'Gonna fuckin give it to yer good n hard, son. That's what you fuckin want, innit?'
Jack nodded again. That's how real blokes should do it. And that's what he deserved.
Sike stared down with serious satisfaction. 'That's my boy. You know my meat's fuckin good for yer. My load's gonna help make yer big n strong, like me.'
The enthralled teenager was goin deeper, the firm hand keeping his head where his dad wanted it. Fuck. He's fuckin doin it to yer, Jack. He's fuckin doin it. With that big motherfuckin straight dick of his. Doin your fuckin face. He instinctively opened the back of his throat to give the intruder full access; he didn't know how the hell he did it, it just seemed to come naturally. The man's jeans were a blur of insistent movement, the dangling hairy nutsack coming close to banging against his chin. Sexy brute force. All the while, he kept his lips clamped smoothly on the hard shaft, his mind in a daze of submissive amazement at what was happening to him. He would never get over how overwhelming this was, no matter how many times they did it. Dad's king-size meat, in control again. This is what you fuckin wanted, innit? This is what you fuckin need.
'Yeahhhhhh. That's fuckin good, son. That's... real... fuckin... good. Takin yer dad's full fuckin length there, intcha? Fuckin suck on it. Go on. Suck on yer daddy's thick dick. You like that, huh?' ('mm-hmmm') 'Yeah. He's gonna shoot real soon, n you're gonna get a proper tasty mouthful. Gonna fuckin swallow it all down, intcha? Like a good boy.'
The sexy aggressive voice sunk into Jack's mind. He moaned again and cast his gaze upwards briefly toward the fuzzed hulk towering above and the muscular tattooed arms holding his head. The man relaxed his grip slightly and eased off the depth of his thrusts a touch. Dad and son looked at one another, totally in sync. They both knew their role. They both knew this was perfection. Sike looked deep into his son's eyes: they sought his approval and he nodded in response, as again and again the sexy weapon slid smoothly and beautifully in and out. Pleasure engulfed them both.
'Fuck yeahhh. You like servicing yer old man, don'tcha? Yer dad's the fuckin man, huh?' Sike saw the lad nod in his passionate daze. He really did feel like he could read his thoughts sometimes. 'You got him back son. Back for good. He ain't gonna leave yer this time.'
Jack felt another wave of passionate emotion swamp him as he gazed up once more at his dad's muscular frame. The big guy knew, alright. He fuckin knows exactly how it is. This is what you need, Jack. This is what it's all about. Again, he tasted the imminent promise of nutjuice on his tongue. Knew he shouldn't want it, but knew he had to have it; two realities, merged into one. No one else had to know.
He looked back down to the dark fuzz of the man's meaty crotch spilling out over the open jeans, filling his vision with pumping male tackle, the hard shaft aimed right down his throat. He felt his dad increasing the speed and aggression, and gripped the man's tree trunk legs, fixed in place by strength he could never match. Yeahhhh. The payload's comin. Give it to me dad. I can fuckin take it.
'Oh yeahhh. Fuckin suck on it, son. Suck yer dad's big straight dick. Yeahhhhhhhhh. That's the fuckin way it should be. Tastes good, don't it? Gonna taste even better in a minute. S'gettin close now. Gettin real fuckin close.'
The excited teenager gripped harder, clasping his lips as tightly as he could to the pounding manhood, his saliva slicking it right up, the heady scent of his dad's sweaty crotch there in his face. He was kneeling at his dad's feet where he belonged. Fuck yeahhh. Here it comes. He moaned again in keen anticipation. He could see the leather belt hanging loose at either side of his field of vision... The fearful weapon. But it was only cause he'd been a bad boy. Now he was gettin his reward for owning up, for promising to be good... I'm ready dad. I'm so fuckin ready. He glanced up once more at the muscle and shadow driving its fearsome energy into his skull.
'Yeahhh, I'm on the fuckin edge son. You ready for yer old man's load? Better fuckin be.'
His son nodded slightly beneath his dad's vice-like grip, Sike could feel the lad's hands locked on his thighs. They were inseparable. He imagined the two of them as a machine, the force in him centred entirely on his mighty prick as it neared completion. Fuckin good sensations. Fuckin GOOD.
'You're the fuckin best, son. The fuckin best. You know exactly how to suck yer dad's dick, don'tcha? Nnnnghhh. Here it fuckin comes...' Sike stared hungrily down at his son's desperate face as his tool swelled to it's maximum. Rock-hard and ready to blow. He felt his nuts tighten.
Jack stared ahead, submerged totally in the thought of his dad's imminent climax, the man's undeniable need for pleasure about to feed him yet another mouthful of his sexy essence. The tough guy was in charge alright. Oh yeahhhhh. My dad... His jeans. His belt. His strength. His muscle. His nuts. His straight motherfuckin dick. It's gonna shoot. Gonna shoot. Gonna fuckin shoot. So hard.
'YEEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHH.'
Sike's motion slowed suddenly as he passed the point of no return and the sublime ecstasy hit him. In that split second, he saw the lad's eyes gazing forward in awe at his father's massive prick. Feeding time... You fuckin taste it son. His vision blurred and the core of his hefty muscular frame shuddered.
'NNNNNNNGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.'
The lad ran his frantic tongue under the head of the pulsing meat. The insanity of what was happening hit with terrifying power, like it always did. Just too fuckin horny to comprehend. His tough-nut dad's spunk was gushing into his gob at speed. Fuck. It's happening. He's really givin it to yer. Awestruck wonder filled his head. Yeahhhhhh. Fuck yeahhhh. The familiar intense taste seemed sweeter than ever, and he sucked in submissive contentment on the steely shaft as it fed him, the grip on his head relaxing slightly to allow him some movement. He could feel the man's groan of ecstasy entering him along with the juice. Total mental surrender.
In the haze of the perfect moment, Sike gazed down at his son with severe satisfaction. Yeahhhhhhh. Talented lad, intcha? Handsome lad. Just need to learn to do what yer told. He rubbed the shaved head keenly and firmly. His little soldier.
Jack felt the man's rough affection and his young heart almost burst with pride. He was acutely aware that what he was being made to do was fundamentally opposed to everything he'd grown up to desire. And yet... There was no denying the need to please his dad. It somehow over-rode everything else. He felt like he could suck on this thick juicy dick forever. And maybe he would... The big guy had said he was the best at it, hadn't he? Better than any bitch he'd had.
Fuck. He tried to grasp the enormity of what that meant, and what lay ahead: a straight-lad secretly dominated by his rough moody fucker of a dad for years to come... That's how it's gonna be, Jack. He's gonna keep fuckin wanting it. You don't refuse someone like Sike. Just look at him - the lad's eyes glanced upwards to the vast spread of fuzzy muscle above, the curving bulges of his huge arms, the stocky neck, the shaved head looking down on him - he's the fuckin man. He's yer fuckin dad. Yer mates'd never understand, but... Fuck em. Fuck em all. They don't need to know.
The man grunted in deep approval a few times as the flow slowed. The ritual nearly complete. Their eyes met once more.
'Gonna drink it all up like a good boy, intcha?'
Heartfelt nod from below. Jack did as instructed, feeling his dad's creamy load sliding down inside, where it belonged. His dick pressed painfully against his jeans. Sike again felt he could sense the lad's thoughts, their minds tuning in to one another. He gave a sly lopsided grin and chuckled darkly.
'That's it, son. All the way down. Well tasty, huh? You really know how to suck yer dad's meat, don'tcha?'
Jack made a grunt of affirmation, mind still on fire. He returned his gaze down to the man's mighty tool, young tongue teasing out the last few tasty drops from the head of it. Knew that's what his dad liked. ('Don't wanna fuckin waste any, do we son?) He felt the man's hand stroking his head affectionately again.
'Well, I'm gonna keep givin it to yer. Just you fuckin wait n see. Ain't no-one gonna stop me lookin after my boy. No-one. Ain't no-one gonna mess you around either, not if I have anything to do with it. Gonna look after yer, like I said. Gonna be fuckin sweet, innit?' Sike grinned, the deliberate words underpinned with their usual charge of aggression.
Jack finally let the softening tackle go, dreamily contemplating its size and maturity. Its total authority. You've been dickfed again, haven't yer? Yeahhhh. The real fuckin deal, innit? Proper horny straight-lad submission. The buzzing taste of his dad's load lingered on his teeth and he pushed his tongue around to savour it. He sensed the impossible becoming real and the future stretching out... Him n his dad. Incredible. He looked up once more, grinning in disbelief at where fate had landed him.
'Yeahhhhh. You're the best, dad. The best fuckin dad in the world.'
Sike stared intently at the upturned face. Fierce emotion was growing inexorably within him, nurtured by denial, rage, the desire to control and the past he couldn't escape. He'd forgotten this feeling; it'd been so fucking long...
Don't fuck this one up, man. Don't lose it. This is the one fucking chance you get.