Pete nodded, “Fuck Unc, fuck me, fuck…my loser hole…”
“See? He’s grateful for it. He deserves it–unlike you. But don’t worry, you can watch…sometimes. When I feel like it. But I don’t think you’re going to get this cock in your ass very often anymore at all. But you’ve found….other ways, haven’t you?”
Harry’s hand fumbled for the humidor, found a thick, 90 ring cigar, ones he kept in there for…special moments like this. He licked the end, and then leaned forward, sliding it into his ass, fucking himself with his cigar while Wilbur fucked his boy and he watched, wishing it could be him in either position, wishing he hadn’t been foolish enough to challenge him, wishing he’d been better, wishing he hadn’t simply been…replaced. “Please…please, I’m sorry…” Harry muttered.
“What? What was that? You gotta speak up, Harry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your son begging me for more of his uncle’s cock.”
“I’m sorry!” Harry shouted, “I’m sorry Wilbur, I’m sorry, but…but please, I need you inside me, please, I know I was wrong, I’ll be good, I swear, but please, you have to…do what you want to me, take whatever you want, but I love you Wilbur, I…I love you…”
Harry felt a surge of pleasure as he rammed his cigar deeper into his ass, and his flaccid cock leaked a dribble of cum from the head. It was as a good as an orgasm got for him anymore, that he could remember. He looked over at Wilbur, at Mr. Elroy, at his son, but they weren’t paying him any mind. He wasn’t important. He was just a weak, impotent old man. Wilbur kept fucking until he came deep in Pete’s hole, and then slid out, Pete pushing himself up with a grunt, face red, hating how his Uncle Wilbur could make him feel so weak, and yet he…loved it somehow.
The vision of Wilbur faded, and Mr. Elroy was there once again, and he walked over to Harry, still helplessly siding his cigar into his hole, deeper and deeper, feeling slightly sick from the surge of nicotine in his system, leaching into his ass. “I accept your apology, Harry. But I think you understand now, that things are never going to get better for you–for either of you. If you cooperate, I can make sure you are at least…happy and cared for, but you will never be anyone of importance. You’re mine now. I can make you whatever, and whoever, I desire you to be, and you will believe it. Do you understand that now?”
“Yes sir, I do,” Harry muttered.
Mr. Elroy bent over and slid the cigar free of Harry’s hole, making him grunt. “Good. Now, I think you do deserve a treat, because all difficulties aside, your son was…a delightful meal. And we haven’t even gotten to your grandson yet, have we?”
Kyle. He hadn’t thought of him once since he’d gotten into this. His younger brother, or at least, he’d been his younger brother…ages ago now, it felt like. Those memories were dying on the vine, faster and faster now, but he could remember his grandson’s face…though it was blurry, like his son’s had been, before he’d arrived.
“No–not him, you can’t…”
“Oh, I most certainly can. After all, the three of you are family–whether you like it or not, your fates are tied together. As soon as you stepped into this room, Harry, you sealed all of your fates together. You’re all mine, and you’ll all be mine until your all just husks, and I’ve taken everything from you that I can get. Still, that won’t be for a while yet–after all, I do so enjoy playing with my food, and my last meal was quite…sustaining, though the three of you are mighty hearty yourselves. No, Harry–I think you’ve learned your lesson well enough, and I think you and your boy here have earned yourselves a little time alone together–some father son bonding–won’t that be nice?” Mr. Elroy looked over at Pete, hauling himself up and pulling his grimy pants back up. “He’s such a handsome brute after all–you always thought so, didn’t you?”
The memories came back, a new version of their time together. Now, though, while they had often wrestled…in was Pete who always would win, or at least, nearly always…because Harry wanted him to win. Because Harry loved how weak he felt, his own brutish son overwhelming him, and when Pete had fucked him that first time…they even dropped the pretense of wrestling. Pete knew his father would do anything for his cock, just like Harry would do anything for Wilbur’s. More than once, the two of them had fucked him together, trading ends back and forth, and when Wilbur had died, his son was the only one left who understood him, who knew how to…treat Harry right. He’d learned from the best after all–and while he’d never been one for school, Pete had learned everything he’d needed to know about being a selfish, brutal top from his favorite uncle.
The memory faded, and Harry looked around his apartment, but Mr. Elroy was gone. It was just him in his favorite chair, and his son on the couch, both of them smoking cigars in the quiet afternoon. Pete gave a stretch, showing off two very hairy armpits from the ash covered wife beater he had stretched over his massive gut. “Well Pa, looks like yer settling in well here–and that nurse a yers seems like a swell fellow. Reminds me…a bit of Uncle Wilbur, you know?”
Harry nodded, not sure what to say. Should he try and talk some sense into him? What was the use? Mr. Elroy might not be here…but he knew what would happen if he tried to fight this. Where would he go, if he did escape? “Yeah, he treats me pretty good,” Harry said.
“Think I’ll bring Ky over tomorrow to say hi too–don’t think he’s had a chance to visit yet, but that boy…he don’t understand how important family is, I don’t think. Doesn’t really take after you the way I do, right Pa?”
He hefted himself up, lumbering over to him, and he smelled him, the stench of stale cigars and his fat body, booze and food and laziness, and he wanted to say he wasn’t turned on, but he was. He…remembered how proud he’d been of him, when he’d had so much potential, and yet something about seeing his brawny young son turn into his fat piece of trailer trash…he loved it in a way he couldn’t explain. “I’ve tried a couple a times, tah show him, but he just doesn’t have much interest in wrasslin’. You don’t need any encouragement, do ya Pa? Haven’t gotten mah dick sucked in a few days now, ‘n sure could use a hot mouth like yours. Take those teeth out–feels real nice without ‘em.”
Harry felt the resistance ebb away. What could he do? Even though his son was a fat piece of shit, he still was stronger than Harry was–and Pete had never been one to take no for an answer. He set the cigar aside, pulled out his teeth while Pete hauled out his cock, and fucked his father’s face in the living room for a few minutes, until he came. Neither of them said anything about it afterwards, they just turned on the TV and watched the news for a while until Mr. Elroy returned, and announced it was time for Harry to take his pills–and asked Pete if he’d like to stay for dinner.
“Nah, I should get goin’,” Pete said, “Ky’s probably wonderin’ where his deadbeat dad has gotten off to. Need to keep the boy fed, right?” He winked at Harry, and he felt his gut twist all the same, thinking about what was in store for his brother soon enough. “Can’t wait tah bring him by here tomorrow, I think he needs to be more involved with his family from now on.”
“Yes, recovery goes so much smoother when the whole family is involved, in my experience,” Mr. Elroy said, “The afternoon is best for Harry’s schedule–we’ll be expecting you around two or so.”
“I don’t…think I want any visitors tomorrow,” Harry interjected.
“Nonsense Harry,” Mr. Elroy said, “You always have time for family. Don’t you want to get better?”
“I feel fine.”
Mr. Elroy and Pete shared a look.
“Always a stubborn son of a bitch. Don’t worry, we’ll be here tomorrow,” Pete said.
“Excellent–I’m sure it will be great to see you both.”
Pete shook Mr. Elroy’s hand, and then left, still smoking his cigar on the way out. Harry could only wonder. Wonder if there was anything of his father–his real father–buried anywhere inside of him, just like he was…or was there nothing left? After all, Mr. Elroy said that the only reason he was here was because of his connection to Harry–was Mr. Elroy keeping his mind intact for that reason? Maybe…Maybe there was a chance still. A small one. Maybe with Kyle’s help they can be free of this. “Now, dinner I think,” Mr. Elroy said. “Given how difficult you were today, you’ll only get your cane tonight. I feel like watching you struggle–this is always more fun when you struggle.”