Roger arrived back at the house and let himself in, pleased to hear the sounds of fucking coming from the den. He dropped the paint by the door and headed in that direction, where he found Gary bent over on the floor, Shane behind him slamming his cock into his father’s hole, growling as he did–at least until he looked up, saw Roger, and realized what, exactly he was doing. “No–No no no…” he said, pulled his cock out and backed away a few steps.
Gary, confused as to why he wasn’t getting fucked anymore, looked behind him and saw Shane had retreated. “What’s wrong fucker? This faggot hole ain’t gonna fuck itself! I though you were gonna show me what a real man fucks like?” He shook his ass, and Shane stared at it, rapt, but tore his eyes away and glared at Roger.
“You fucking did this, sir, you set this up!” he shouted.
Roger shrugged, “I suppose your father here wasn’t very interested in escaping, eh boy? Did that surprise you?”
“The fucker–all he fucking wants is a to sit around, drink and smoke, and get fucked!” Shane shouted, “He fucking wants this, and this is all your fucking fault!” Shane said, stalking towards him. “We were happy! All of us, and you just fucked everything up. Why couldn’t you have just left us all alone!”
Roger leaned on the doorway, and looked from Shane to Gary. “You want me to leave the two of you alone? I could do that, you know. I’ve been alone a long time, and I don’t want to spend years of my life with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. If you want to be here, with him, I can arrange that. I just…well, you didn’t strike me as someone who’d want to live life as a faggot pig,” he walked towards Gary, “What did my boy think of you, Gary? Do you think he likes you?”
“No sir,” Gary said, face to the carpet, “He thinks I’m disgusting sir. He said so himself. He thinks I’m wasting my life. I got him so angry, he was gonna fuck me real rough like before you came back.”
“That’s not–I didn’t mean that,” Shane said.
“You didn’t?” Roger asked, looking back at him, “So you’d be ok if I made you a faggot pig like your old man here? Just think, the two of you lounging around together all day, doing nothing, men coming over at all hours to fuck your holes, feed you piss–feed you shit, even, if you beg hard enough. A nice family of faggots–like father like son. Sounds hot to me boy–get out of those coveralls and boots. We can find some nasty underwear of your dad’s to wear, I bet.”
Shane started stripping, but as he did, he found himself gripped with fear and loathing. No–he didn’t want to be like him, he wanted to be free of this, didn’t he? “That’s not–I don’t want to be like him sir! I’m not like him!” Shane shouted, but his hands were stripping off his clothes already. He hadn’t been naked in ages, and the thought of it was…unsettling to him.
“I thought you wanted to be with your father, boy.”
“Not like this! I hate this, I fucking hate him!”
“Well boy,” Roger said, walking over, “You only have two choices here, so let me spell them out for you. You strip off that gear of mine and join your father as a total faggot, just as disgusting and appalling and shameless as he is, or you stay with me, and be my boy. My boy for real–you fuck that faggot’s hole, and you cum in deep, and you ain’t gonna remember that old life of yours anymore. You’re gonna be my boy for good–forever. But put on that underwear, and you ain’t never gonna forget what you were. You won’t be able to stop being a faggot, of course, but you’re gonna know boy. But it’s your choice. What’s it gonna be?”
Shane was naked now. He knew there were other options, but what? If he stayed with his dad, there was hope–a thin sliver. He might be able to tell someone. He’d at least know–but did he really want to know? Did he want to live like this? He imagined himself there on the ground beside his father, that hungry look in his eye. “Please, I can’t…”
“I’ll tell you something else, boy–right now? Your father knows too.”
Shane felt his stomach twist.
“He knows who he was. If you fuck him, though, he’ll forget. It’s torture for him, you know. He hates himself. He just wants to be free. You can give that to him, to you both, if you just fuck him.”
It could be a lie, he knew that. He couldn’t very well ask his dad and know for sure. It didn’t change anything, really. He couldn’t imagine being trapped like this–knowing what his life had been, and forced to humiliate himself day in and day out. He walked over, drooled some spit onto his cock, and shoved it back into Gary’s hole. “I’m sorry dad, I’m so fucking sorry…” he muttered.
“Don’t be sorry, you hot fucker! It’s what we both fucking want. Now breed my piggy hole, like a proper fucking man!”
“Yeah–fuck that pig rough. Be selfish. I want a selfish boy,” Roger said, “A boy who only cares about his pleasure, and mine too, of course. Who takes what he wants, and doesn’t bother asking. Who’s greedy, and nasty, and rude. Come on boy, smack that pig around, show him who’s boss around here!”
Shane smacked his father’s ass, and felt a jolt of pleasure. He was close–so fucking close. Could he do this? Was he really going to give into this? He tried to hold back, but Roger urged him over the edge, and…and why fight it? It felt fucking good, didn’t it? Yeah–raping a pig’s hole always felt fucking good though–not that you could really rape a pig like this. They would take a fuck any day, and anywhere–fucking disgusting, but what did he care? Still, he took his own pleasure after, eating his own cum back out from the pig’s hole–he did love a filthy ass, after all, and he was pretty sure this pig hadn’t wiped up in days.
“Boy, you can eat hole later–we gotta finish painting.”
Reluctantly, he pulled free, licking his lips. “Yes sir, sorry–just hungry is all.”
“You’re always hungry boy!” Roger said, but hauled him up and kissed him, “That’s just how I fucking want you though.”
Shane laughed, “Yes sir! I’m your greedy fucking pigboy sir!” he laughed, and lit a cigar. He felt…good for the first time in a long time. He felt like himself. He felt happy, and free, and as always, it was all thanks to Sir.
Bracken's Corner 