How I Became the Son of Satan Part 2 ------------------------------------- by mattywoowoo@gmail.com ------------------------------------
"You will live with me at my home, and I will train you to become my son. You will listen to my every command, and will be punished if you do not do so. Now walk through the following door." He raised his hand, and a door appeared to my right. He gave me a look that scared me as much as it made my cock bounce. The son of Satan? Is this possible? Has any of this been possible? I slowly opened the door, and entered through the darkness, afraid to look back.
As I entered through the door, the cum all over my stomach began to lift and disappear, as well as the sweat that was dripping from my forehead, armpits, and basically every part of my body. That was one amazing orgasm, I thought.
I still couldn't wrap my head around the idea of being the song of Satan. What exactly would I do? Why did he choose me? "In all eternity, not one single soul has ever shown me such a performance." His low words had penetrated my mind, I couldn't get it out of me. Would it mean he'd be... fucking me? Just the thought sent hormones rushing throughout my body. No, it couldn't be that... but why else would my 'performance' lead to this?
As the darkness faded away, I found myself standing naked, dry, and a little cold in a kitchen or something similar. My bare feet were pressed against the cold marble floor, sending chills to my spine. I took a step forward, and suddenly felt a warmness pass through me, and then I felt strange, like I was finally home. All my inhibitions had just vanished, and I felt so much more comfortable, even naked.
In front of me was a island counter with stools, a sink in the center. On the side was typical kitchen, cabinets, a fridge. It all looked really new, and high tech too. Much better than my moms kitchen, bigger too. I sat on a stool in front of the island, and noticed a note on it. It read, "Matthew, I'll be running errands for the next few hours. Make yourself at home. Love, your father."
Satan's handwriting was so clean and formal, I almost thought it was typed, but with closer inspection, it was definitely handwritten in ink. "Your father," huh? He was taking this seriously, I guess. I tried to remember my own father and mother, but they were starting to become vague... was I forgetting them already? My father hadn't been in my life much, being divorced and all. He visited us periodically, but didn't spend too much time with me. I wondered what they were thinking right now, did they know I was dead? How long have I been gone?
As I wondered, I felt my stomach grumble a bit. I must be hungry, I thought. He did say "make yourself at home" didn't he? I went to the fridge and found that there was nothing but a jug and a cup inside, and another note. The note read, "Son, you may only drink one cup of this a day." Confused, I touched the jug, and suddenly before my eyes, it began to fill with a creamy mixture. It looked almost like a protein shake.
I poured myself a cup, but I couldn't seem to stop pouring. I was afraid it might overflow, but just as it reached the top, I regained control. I noticed that I couldn't pour anymore into the cup. Maybe I can only drink one a day, I thought.
Whatever it was, it looked familiar, but I couldn't put finger on it. I took a sip, and found it to be a salty mixture, with a sweet aftertaste. This was definitely not a milkshake... After one sip, I felt my throat go dry. What was this stuff? I looked around for water, and tried the sink, but no matter what I tried, I couldn't get water into my mouth. I began to panic, what do I do? I found myself chugging the rest of the mixture down, practically licking the cup empty. My throat no longer was dry, and I felt full, and warm afterward.
I suddenly felt sleepy, as if I had just drunk a cup of warm milk. I wandered towards a door at the end of the kitchen, which opened up to a living room. I then found myself walking into a bedroom, and noticed a bathroom towards the end of the bedroom. The bedroom had a nice big bed in the center of it, covered in red silk sheets. Feeling more sleepy, I laid onto the bed, and drifted off to sleep.
I woke up to a warm hand rubbing my back. I heard someone whisper, "You're awake son."
I turned my head back around to see it was Satan, a friendly smile on his face. I breathed, "Hi Daddy" as I yawned. Daddy? Did I just say Daddy? Well he is my Daddy, but no, he isn't... or is he? I couldn't seem to remember him as anyone else. His hand drifted down to my ass, rubbing both cheeks with one hand. I sighed. "Son, in my home we have some rules. Stand up." He said.
I slowly got up, and faced him. He was almost two heads taller than me, and so much bigger and more muscular. I felt like a small child compared to him. He was still wearing his work clothes. "Only Daddy can be naked in the house, because he is your father, your superior. You my son, can where this." He waved his hand, and I felt a piece of cloth tighten around my crotch. A black jockstrap actually, had somehow put itself on me. It was a little tighter than my usual underwear size, and I felt my cock swell at feeling. He then waved his hand again, and all of his clothes seemed to siphon into his hand. I gasped at the sight.
Daddy was a hunk. A man. His chest was so well developed, I imaged his pecs could lift things by squeezing together. His arms thick and bulging, full of so much power and authority. Below his massive pecs sat 8 ripples of abs, washboard for sure, so defined and ribbed. Coating his pecs was a soft stubble of dark hair, the same stubble that covered his face and darkened at his chin. The hair narrowed down into a treasure trail, leading perfectly into what was really treasure. His cock. It was hung even when soft, at least 7 inches of thick meat, and a drooping foreskin that added an extra inch around his mushroom head. His balls were two giant ostrich eggs, swinging low together underneath his manhood.
I felt a bid of drool drip from chin, when Daddy said, "Son, did you have anything to drink today?" Puzzled at first, I suddenly remembered the mysterious drink. "Y-yes, I had that white stuff in the jug," I said childishly. He smiled, and began to walk back to the kitchen. I followed along like a puppy on a leash.
He took out the jug from the refrigerator, still at least three fourths full of the mixture. "This Matty, is a special mixture that will make you officially be me son, inside out." He swished the mixture around and put it back into the fridge.
"How does that work?" I asked.
"Look for yourself", he said, and he showed me a mirror. It was me, but a different me. I was much more athletic, I had abs, and pecs, not so defined, but it was clear that I had worked out a bit, even though I hadn't. I turned around and noticed my whole body was a bit more muscular, including my butt, which had already been close to being a bubble butt. I noticed I had some hair on my newly formed pecs, not as much as Daddy, but it was there. I looked in closer, and saw my eyes had become a strange mixture of red and green. I was really become my father's son. Satan's son. I then wondered whether my cock had changed, but as soon as I thought it, as if he had read my mind, Daddy said, "No son, not yet. Your sex organs and such will undergo change when you are finally turned into my son."
"And how will I finally turn into your son? I'll drink the whole jug!" I exclaimed eagerly, never in my life had I been so excited. I was going to be a total hunk, the son of another amazing hunk!
"As you drink the jug, you will slowly transform. Do you know why?" he asked.
"It's... magical?" I replied giggling a bit.
"Close. It's my semen in there, mixed with a little dark magic." he said. My eyes widened. I noticed Daddy's cock bounce.
"You mean, I've drunken your semen without knowing it? It-it's inside me right now?" I looked down towards my new abs.
"It was actually absorbed by your body, and turned into muscle, as is everything you eat here. Unfortunately, because you are new, you cannot just start eating anything. You may only drink the mixture until your body accommodates. Once it does, you can begin the final transformation."
"Which is?" My cock was definitely hard now, struggling to get free out of the jockstrap, but the jockstrap seemed glued to me.
"You are currently taking my semen from one end, prepared. In order to fully become my son, son of Satan with many new powers and abilities, you must take my semen fresh, from the other end." He looked at my ass, his cock bouncing once more.
My eyes widened once more, my cock leaking precum into the jockstrap. "You mean you need to fuck me?"
"You may put it like that."
"Well why not now?" I almost turned around and bent over, but he cut me off.
"No, son, you need to finish the jug, that should take a few days, you'll be changing a bit more, accommodating, as I've said before." he seemed annoyed at my eagerness, but almost proud at my bravery. Who knew how big that meat could get, was it even safe up my virgin hole?
"Now I must leave," he said. "That jockstrap's not coming off son, and I expect you not to masturbate. Just drink the semen daily, until I return, and things should go well."
And with that, his clothes seemed to reappear, as he disappeared. I was alone again. I poured myself another cup of my Daddy's cum, and chugged it down. I felt a tingling feeling deep inside me, inside my ass. I had an urge to just hump the bed and cum, but I had to listen to Daddy's orders, for he was all I had. I had forgotten anyone else who may have been in my life, all I knew was that I was to become Daddy's son. Satan's son. And with that thought, I fell asleep, my ass continuing to tingle, and itch, preparing for another transformation.
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