Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 7)

He tied him up and beat him–flogging him at first, but working up to a proper lash, leaving long red welts in his father’s back, working himself up into a froth, his cock…throbbing with excitement, but he knew not to cum too soon. If he came, his father wouldn’t let him live it down for weeks, for a disappointing session with him. He…hated how much he cared about what his father thought of him. That was it, wasn’t it, in a way? He had always cared about what his father thought of him, and now, that strange desire had twisted around into something awful. He wanted his father to like him, and if his father wanted him to be some twisted, abusive top…then that was what Carter would become, for him, at least. It wasn’t what he wanted, he knew that…but then, how did he know that? He didn’t know what he wanted, after all.

The smoke from them both built up, and Carter could stop thinking about it, in the haze, focus on his strikes, and then, once his father was begging him to stop–and meaning it–he released him, bent him over, and fisted him, pummeling his father’s hole until he came all over the concrete floor, and only then, did Carter shove his cock into the now loose hole, working it for a while until he came in deep, his father thanking him, and praising him, and…loving him. Afterwards, they cuddled for a while, Ash whispering the sweetest things into Carter’s ear, telling him what a good son he was, taking care of his daddy like this…and he felt that first spark of terrible pride in him start to blossom, and he tried to crush it before he could even recognize it. He would not like this. He would not stay like this, he would not.

When they emerged hours later, they were both starving. Ash cooked them some dinner, and Carter sat alone in his room–a room he could barely remember sleeping in, now, and thought about what he had just done, and who he was becoming. Who his father wanted him to be, and how it curdled his stomach just as badly as his father’s dreams of yesterday had–even though they were very different. It was like he had fallen through some strange, warped mirror–all the feelings were there, all the frustration, but the context was all scrambled. Mentally, and physically, exhausted after his day, he went down, ate his dinner in relative silence and shame, and went to bed early.

Ashford stayed up a bit later, trying to grapple with what he’d just done, what Pigtown had done to him…but as hard as he tried to muster substantial guilt, there simply wasn’t any. This was what he wanted, in the end, and he was too satisfied with the result to feel particularly bad about it. He…loved his son, and he knew that Carter loved him too, or else he wouldn’t still be here. His rebellion at the moment was just a phase–he’d get over it soon enough, and just enjoy it. After all, Ash knew what was best for them both, he told himself. Upstairs, he thought about pestering his son for another fuck…but decided against it. Best to let him be for a few days, maybe. Another couple of visits to Pigtown next weekend would be what they needed to help set things straight for them both.

And perhaps it would have. After all, by Wednesday, Carter had half-convinced himself that this was, perhaps, for the best in some non-specific way. After all, the sex was hot, and while he’d never really imagined himself as a top, he was already surprising himself at how decent he was at it. It felt…natural, and his dad, while a brat, was a good sub too, and plenty eager of course–that didn’t hurt. Perhaps, come the weekend, after a couple of nights in the pits of Pigtown, with some more distance, Carter could have forgotten about his doubts, and given it a shot. Instead, what happened, was he got put in a group for one of his classes at college with a young, husky fellow by the name of Justin, and things got…more complicated.

The group didn’t have too much time to work in class, but Carter and Justin hit it off as friends right away. Carter had to admit that he’d spent quite a bit of the class already keeping an eye on the handsome cub a few seats over, but had assumed he was straight. In the hall after class, a wink, and brush of his cock with Justin’s hand, and an invitation to lunch suggested otherwise. Lunch was short–the afternoon in Justin’s dorm room went on for significantly longer.

Afterwards, sitting at the dorm window, smoking a cigar into the early evening, Carter told himself this had to be a one time thing. If his father found out he’d fucked someone else…well, he wouldn’t mind, really…but Carter was feeling something else, suddenly, looking over at Justin, who was just giving him baby doll eyes from the covers, telling him that he thought his cigars were pretty sexy…

It wasn’t love, not really. Love couldn’t be this easy. But is wasn’t his father. It didn’t make him feel sick to his stomach, lying in bed with Justin. He suggested that Carter stick around for the night, but Carter made an excuse of some kind that he had to get home. He didn’t remember the lie, later, but he had to tell him something. Still, he promised him he’d be back the next day to work on their project–Justin suggested he bring an extra cigar, because he’d like to give one a try.

Carter’s heart leapt, and ke could barely croak a goodbye, he was so turned on at the thought of fucking Justin, both of them smelling of smoke…

He got home late, and his dad pestered him why–but what could he say, really? He was falling in love with someone else? Ash felt it, felt Carter pulling away suddenly, all over again, and bossed his son into another session, but while Caster performed well…Ash knew something was wrong. Carter wanted something, really wanted something, for the first time in his life, and lying awake in bed that night, he wondered if he had the guts to actually grab hold and take it, his father, and Pigtown, be damned.

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 6)

Carter tried to deny it, but Ashford was certain it had been him. He was the last person he remembered, the person he had gone home with, or who he felt he had gone home with. He’d…begged him, he’d wanted to be his slave, forever, and the man had laughed, but he’d taken him…hadn’t he?

For Carter, the idea was ridiculous. Sure, he couldn’t remember much of the night before, or anything past his first couple of drinks, which was admittedly less than usual, but he’d never done anything like that before. He’d never wanted to do anything like that before. Perhaps…he could imagine someone doing it to him, but he…wasn’t looking for that. He wasn’t there looking for anyone at all, really. He was just there looking to become the person he’d always thought he should be–the man he couldn’t wait to grow into. But who was that, anyway?

That was the question, he supposed. The question he didn’t know how to answer, the question he asked himself as he walked to the bar each night, wondering who he was going to become, excited to find out, but also wondering if any of them would…stick. Afraid that something might stick. The potential was so vast, and men there were so…wild, and he was so new still, and how could he ever know what he wanted, really? How could anyone really know what they want in the world?

“This is my fault,” his father said into the silence.

Carter shook his head, “No, I should have been honest about what was going on, I–”

“I asked for this. I wanted…it wasn’t that I just wanted to know where you were going, Carter!” Ashford said, “I…you were pulling away. Pulling away from me. I didn’t want to lose you, and…and in the bar, all I wanted to do was to find you, wherever you were. It was like…like it knew, and this guy, big guy, he pointed you out, he helped me find you, and…I was happy. I don’t want to be away from you ever again, Carter, I’ll do anything. I’m…your father, but all I want is you now, you’re the only guy I can think about, so…so please don’t leave me.”

“Dad, think about what you’re fucking saying! We can’t–we have to go back, tonight. We have to go back, and…and Rod will be able to do something, but we can’t stay like this. I’m not–I’m not your master, and I don’t want to be, alright? This is fucked up! You know this is fucked, I know you know, in there. You have to push back, alright?”

“That’s…what you said at first, yeah, but not…not what you said last night, son…Sir…”

The word send a shot of excitement right to his cock, and Carter tried not to let on how flustered he was. His dad…had always been able to get under his skin, and into his head like that. He’d been…so apprehensive, those first times he’d had sex with his dad–that, and fall down drunk. It hadn’t really occurred to him then that his father was taking advantage of him, or using him…but soon enough, it didn’t really matter, because…because had started to like it, eventually. How submissive his dad was, how eager he was. They’d started watching porn together, almost always some kind of BDSM, and afterwards, his father would egg him on to try new things–piss play, fisting, CBT, bondage–always with his father as the sub.

“Dad, this isn’t us, this is just what that place does to people! Can’t you see how fucked this is?”

“Well why don’t you do something about it, Sir? There’s all those gags in the basement, and I know how you like to punish me when I’m a naughty daddy…”

“I said shut the fuck up!” Carter roared at him, surprising even himself with the sudden outburst, and his dad sat back, face flushed with excitement. Carter…knew what the fucking pig needed, knew that there was only one way to get him to shut up about it, to quit taunting him like this, but he…he didn’t want to give in. “Fuck, get in the fucking basement.”

“Yes sir!” Ash said, and hurried out of his chair and to the stairs in the hall. Carter just sat there, shaking, unable to believe he was really doing this. He kept thinking otherwise, working his way out of it, but his mouth, and his cock, were betraying him. In the end, as always, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could go back to trying to pretend he was just a normal guy going to college, not some…unwilling master for his perverse slut of a father, unable to escape this nightmare of a relationship. He got up, and lit himself a fresh cigar–this was going to be a long session, he could already tell. Downstairs, his father was already naked, and dressed in his favorite gear, on his knees, collar in hand, waiting for Carter to come down and put it on him. Carter made him wait, taking his time getting into some leather gear of his own, drawing it out as best he could, but his father enjoyed that too, the suspense. Why not…just leave? He didn’t have to be here, he didn’t have to do this, did he? But he took the collar from Ash, buckled it around his old neck, and fed him some of his ash…and then, things went blurry, almost like they were still in the bar, or like they had brought a bit of the bar home with them, together.

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 5)

Was he telling the truth? Ash searched his son’s face, looking for that…gruff figure from the night before, the young, muscular, leather clad master, who had chained him to the wall in the dungeon, whipped him until he begged for mercy, fucked him raw, the smell and heat of his cigar next to his ear…he’d broken him. He’d wanted it, by the end, all of it. He’d had no idea that had been his son, but now…now he wanted it to be him, more than anything. He’d been grooming him for this, teaching him how to smoke cigars ever since he was a teenager, training him at the gym, and when he’d been ready, he’d gotten him drunk, and Carter had fucked his father’s hole with his big cock for the first time…did none of that mean anything to Carter? Couldn’t he see how much effort he’d put into him, and now, he didn’t even remember the sexiest, hottest scene of both their lives?

He was reeling. All of this was too much, there was too much in his mind. Too many histories, too many wants, too many fantasies, too many realities. His son was right, this was…new. It just felt real, it was easier to want this to be real, because the truth was too…shameful to even comprehend. “What…what was that place? Where the fuck have you been going all those nights?”

“Look, dad. You need to eat something. Have your cigar, have breakfast, calm down a little bit, and then…I’ll tell you what I know about Pigtown, and then you need to tell me about what happened last night, at the bar–or at least what you remember.”

Ash…knew his son was right, but fuck, if he didn’t want to suck another load out of his boy’s cock right then and there, or better yet, get fucked by him. They could have the whole day together, chain smoking cigars, hotboxed in their bedroom, woozy and horny and wasting the whole day in a sexual haze. It wouldn’t be the first time. He pushed it away though, sat down, and ate the breakfast his son had made for them, and the normalcy of it helped break the spell of his lust, and he managed to calm down, though he had to look away from Carter, who was sucking hard on his cigar, looking flustered and uncomfortable, and sexy as hell.

They finished, and Carter filled him in on Pigtown–the legend, and the reality, and his own journey there. How, when he was nineteen, he’d started chatting with a guy who claimed he knew how to get there–who claimed he had been there before. Carter didn’t know if he was lying or not–at the time, he still wasn’t convinced that the whole thing wasn’t just…stories they all told each other. Stories they told to try and convince themselves that change was real. That there was a place for them, somewhere, where they could be what they wanted to be. It wasn’t the first time having sex, for him–he’d had a dalliance with a few guys in high school, but nothing serious. This…He was different. He knew Carter, knew what he wanted, could feel the need in him, and Carter had…thought he’d loved him. Loved him unlike he’d ever loved anyone in his life, and then he’d just vanished. Ghosted him. It had hurt, but the man had left him some leads, a few other older guys he’d fucked around with, more timidly, and those guys knew enough about Pigtown to get him closer, and closer still, until finally a year or so later, he was there.

It was the first time he’d told anyone the story. The shame he felt at it–not the shame of what he’d done (and who he’d done) to get there, but the fact that, looking back on it, he was so…weak. So contemptful. Now that he was closer, he could see how little the distance was that he’d actually traveled. He was nowhere, really. He’d taken steps, so far, that he could have taken without Pigtown entirely, steps he would have probably taken, eventually, but the place–now that he had been once, he craved it. Admitting that to his father, the one he’d been trying so hard to hide all of this from, he hated it. How weak it made him seem, how desperate. Somehow, seeing how…into it his father was, only made it worse, like it was nightmare reflection of himself, of his own desires laid bare so he could see them clearly. He wrapped up the story quicker than he’d started it–especially once he saw his father’s hand drift down to his lap, and start working his cock. Instead, he asked his father about what had happened the night before, back at the bar–and so Ash told him about how he had followed him to the bar, from the station–though it seemed odd, telling him that now–because it wasn’t him who had followed Carter, not really. That version of himself, that person, he didn’t exist anymore. Should he feel…grief, at that? He felt like he should, but he didn’t. He told Carter how he’d watched him go into the bar, and then he’d planned to leave, but before he could, three leather bears, likely bound for the bar themselves, had cornered him, and dragged him inside–and once in…well, it had been the greatest night of his life, not that he’d thought so at first.

At first, he’d been terrified. Fighting them, all of them, but there were more than just the three who had dragged him inside now. Now, there were many. So many, each of them different, and he’d scanned the crowd for Carter, called out his name, but everyone in there had just laughed and laughed, then they’d put the first glass to his lips, that first taste, and he’d fought a little less. The hands groping him, tugging at his clothes, they were no less violent than before, but now he found himself enjoying the force, and also pushing back, but everyone around him was so much…stronger than he was. Another drink past him lips, and he felt like they were molding him. Another drink, and he could feel the air itself pressing into him, the bar shaping him, like there was some other skeleton inside of him, some other lattice of self he had never known before, but this place had awakened in him–and now it was reshaping him to it, built around pleasure–and pain.

So much pain, more pain than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d fallen into the lap of a sadist, and he had been more than happy to give Ashford an introduction to his paddles, whips, the end of his cigar, the toe of his boot to his balls–and when he’d finally given into it, when he’d allowed that pain to blossom into a new kind of pleasure, that’s when the brute appeared. Huge, tattooed, from the depths of the bar (or so Ashford had thought, because he couldn’t have imagined someone like that coming from anywhere else) and Ashford could barely describe the ecstacy to his son sitting across from him, much less believe that he had, in fact, been his son the whole time.

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 4)

Ashford didn’t realize he was jacking off until his hand was around his hard cock, and once he realized it, he didn’t want to stop. It would be better anyway, to get rid of some of this…pressure, in him. He hadn’t been horny like this in years, not even when he’d been with Carter’s mom…not that he’d ever really been…that attracted to her. Was that true, or was that new? He couldn’t quite tell. It was like someone had jumbled up the puzzle of his life and fit everything together differently, not the way it should have been, but somehow this arrangement made perfect sense. More sense, maybe, than the last one. He’d been gay. He’d always been gay, and in denial. He’d divorced, and…and when his son had come out, it was only natural to…to show him…

He came hard, all over the toilet. The shame was almost enough to make him puke again, realizing what he’d been thinking, how easy it had been for him to think it at all. He made his way to his own room, where he found his wardrobe had…changed. Not only did the more…normal clothes fit him now, even though they were a size larger than before, he found a new selection of clothing hanging in the closet, everything he recognized as the leather gear he’d ended up in by the end of the night, all of it well used and smelling of smoke–fuck, he could use a cigar. He bet Carter could use one too. He grabbed a couple from the humidor, clipped them, and lit one and then the other, holding them both in his mouth while he went downstairs (the bears always got a kick, seeing how many he could fit in his mouth at once) and Carter was in the kitchen, still naked, working on breakfast for them both. He turned around when he smelled the smoke, saw his dad with the cigars, and his cock went immediately rigid at the sight.

That was enough to make Ashford feel mortified. What the fuck was he doing, walking down here naked, with a couple of cigars in his mouth. He wanted to retreat…but didn’t. He walked over, handed a cigar to Carter, and then got on his knees, exhaling a plume of smoke over his son’s cock before sucking it down his throat.

Carter was frozen. The eggs were burning, and his father was smoking a cigar and sucking his cock at the same time. He pulled the pan off the burner, and then devoted his full attention to fucking his dad’s throat–he loved his dad’s blowjobs along with their first cigars of the mornings…didn’t he? Why did this feel so normal? Why did he remember doing this so many times before?

It had been like this, after his first time. Reality warping around him, the stash of cigars in his closet, smoking one out his window after his dad had left for work, like he always remembered he had. It was normal, even though he’d never done it before, and now, this was normal too. He knew he should feel ashamed, but he didn’t. He…loved it. They both loved it, how open they could be with each other…right? With his son’s cock finally in his mouth, it was the best Ashford had felt all damn day. He pulled away from Carter’s cock, opened wide and stuck out his tongue–Carter rolled the ash off onto his dad’s tongue, watching him quiver as he ate it. Carter loved the taste of ash, but he doubted anyone loved it as much as his dad did. He held it there a moment, savoring the heat, and then took it in his mouth, soaking it with his spit, and then went back to sucking, the ashy paste in his father’s mouth rough on Carter’s sensitive cock, some of the dark spit running down into his father’s beard.

“Fuck, Ash–fuck…” Carter moaned, tugging on his nipples until he unloaded into his father’s mouth, Ash drinking down all of his son’s cum, tasting the ash with it, and after a couple pumps of his own cock, he came again all over the kitchen floor, in front of his son. Both of them looking at one another, panting slightly.

“Thanks, boy,” Ash managed to say. Was his throat dry more from shame, or from the ash he’d just eaten without a second thought? But why would he feel shame? There…there was nothing wrong with this. He’d…wanted this. From the moment he’d found out that Carter was gay, his sexy, hairy, handsome boy…Ash had wanted this. First, just with inside himself, secretly…but he didn’t need it to be a secret anymore, how much he loved turning his boy into the cigar master of his fantasies.

“Dad–we…we can’t do that again, please don’t do that again,” Carter said. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Boy, I did this to you! I did this because I wanted this–we’ll keep doing it all we want, who cares what other people think?”

“No dad! That’s just–that’s what it wants you to think, how that place twisted you. I know you’re still in there. I know it hurts, but you have to fight it.”

“Fight it? That’s not what you wanted me to do last night, boy, all you wanted last night was for me to submit, and give in…and what, now you have second thoughts?”

His father sounded…hurt. Again, Carter tried his best to remember the night before, but he couldn’t–just little bits. Red light, a howl of pain, the feel of a lash taut between his thick hands… “I don’t remember what happened last night. I’m sorry…for what I did, I wasn’t…me. That wasn’t me. No one in there is who they are, really–that’s what that place does.”

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 3)

The man in his bed pulled his head back up and looked at him–and he saw it now. He’d changed, like everyone did, but it was him. The cheeks were rounder, he had tattoos on both shoulders, and he was much, much hairier than he’d been before, but it was him. It was his own fucking dad. He tried to piece together the night before, tried to remember anything about how this could have happened, but it…wasn’t there. That wasn’t uncommon, really. Usually he half-recalled what happened the night before, while he was in the bar, but the more he changed inside, the less he became himself, the less he remembered the next day. After all, the person who’d done it didn’t exist anymore, except in the bar, he supposed. The only night he remembered was that first one. Everyone remembered the first one, forever. He’d have dreams sometimes, when he hadn’t been to Pigtown for a while. It would be like he was back there again, and when he woke up from them, sheets soaked in cum…he knew he wouldn’t sleep right until he went back again.

“No–that couldn’t have been you, it…he was so big, and…and fuck, his cock…smelled so good, feeding me his ash…” Ashford was rocking gently now, lost in the memory of the night before–the night he’d never be able to forget, and a night Carter would never be able to remember. Carter didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, so he did what he would have wanted, what he hadn’t had anyone to do for him, the morning after that first time. He climbed into the bed with him, and pulled him close, into a hug. Ashford tried to pull away for a moment, but then he shuddered, and started sobbing into Carter’s chest.

It was not the sort of position he was expecting. He had never seen his father cry, not even at the funeral for Carter’s grandmother. He held him awkwardly for a while, waiting for him to collect himself. He calmed down slowly, sobbing less, and sighed. “You…smell like him still. You smell good.”

Carter pushed him away then, not at all comfortable with his father saying something like that to him. “Dad, what the fuck were you doing there last night?” he asked, getting off the bed, “How the fuck did you even find Pigtown?”

“I fucking followed you is how!” he said, “I’ve been worried sick about you. You think I couldn’t tell something was wrong with you?” He shook his head, and then said, “What…was that place?”


“I know the fucking name of the place! What the fuck…what the fuck did it do to me?”

Carter didn’t really have a good answer to that one. His dad was the first person he’d met who had gotten in without…wanting to get in.

“What…the fuck did it do to you?” his dad asked, looking over at him, “You were…huge. And…”

Carter was happy his dad didn’t finish the thought. He had zero interest in hearing about how he had fucked with his father the night before, and who he’d been when he’d done it.

“Look, you’ll feel better when you get some food in you, alright? Then…then we can talk about it,” Carter said, and headed for the door, “and…I’m sorry. You were never supposed to know about any of this.”

Carter had left the room and was out of earshot, and so he didn’t catch his dad’s soft reply, “Don’t be sorry…I…I wanted it.” Ashford hugged his legs to his chest, and fought the urge to start crying again. Why could he remember it all so well? He’d been so drunk, and yet, so clear headed at the same time. He’d wanted everything, all of it. He’d begged for it. He reached around and felt his back, certain he’d feel welts there, but there weren’t any. Checked his shoulder, where he could still feel the sting of that bear’s cigar burning into him, but nothing. He was untouched, mostly. At least, all the pain he could remember–there wasn’t a literal scratch on him. Maybe…it had been a dream, or partly a dream, because this was real. He threw his legs out of the bed and stood up. Even without a mirror, he could see he was different–not as different as he had been in the bar, after those three leather bears had dragged him inside and forced him to drink and smoke all that stuff with them, before he’d ended up in the backroom with him, with Carter–or at least, with the brute Carter had been.

As unfamiliar as this was though…it felt right. He could remember how he’d been before this, but he could remember this new body better. He went into the bathroom, feeling like he was going to puke again, but didn’t–he would have felt better if he had, he thought. He wanted it out of him, all of this, he didn’t want to remember that, he didn’t want to be in this body, he didn’t…want to keep thinking about how fucking sexy his son was, and contriving ideas to get him to fuck him again, maybe while he was smoking a cigar. Maybe he’d even feed him his ash, if he asked nicely…

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 2)

Carter woke up in bed. His bed–the same bed he was always in, the bed in his father’s house where he’d been sleeping since he was a kid. He…held out hope, every time, that it might be somewhere else–that…he might be someone else, but apparently not yet. That’s what a lot of people didn’t understand about the place, he supposed–or what they wouldn’t understand about it. What people like his dad wouldn’t be able to understand. Normal people. People who were happy–or even those who weren’t happy. Maybe just at least content. Content with the world as it was. But for Carter…this world was terrible. He didn’t fit into it, no matter how hard he’d tried, no matter how well he could pretend…he knew there had to be something else out there. And then, he’d found Pigtown.

That, or Pigtown had found him. Online first, in chat rooms, on old websites. No one knew exactly where it was–unless you knew where to find it. You had to want it, or maybe you had to want something that was there, or maybe it was the place that wanted you first. All the stories said that if you found it, and you went long enough, eventually you wouldn’t be the same person who entered…but Carter was finding out the reality was a bit more complicated than the myth. Sure, the first time…the first time was a rush. You never left the first time the same as you went in. He’d been this skinny little twig of a kid, nervous as hell, standing around in the dim light with all these hulking men smoking cigars and wearing leather, and after that first drink shoved into his hand, the first kiss, the first fuck in the dark–he’d woken up the next day, back in his bed, and he’d been different. Thicker, hairier, with a constant insatiable need to smoke. Not a bear exactly, something more like a muscle cub, but the most important thing, was that it was difference. Progress, according to a certain scale.

But he’d still been here. Here in the same life, going to college, living with his dad–but now, somehow, he was more miserable. He had to hide so much more from everyone. If anything, he felt even worse than he had been before going–and the only place he ever felt better, was there, at Pigtown. He’d started to wonder if it was a grift–if the bar didn’t want things to get better, if it just wanted to eat him alive. He knew it could, he’d seen some of them in there, the ones who didn’t leave anymore, or couldn’t leave. They weren’t…anyone anymore. They were whoever you wanted them to be, whoever the bar wanted them to be. He didn’t want to lose himself though–he wouldn’t let that happen.

Changing after that first time wasn’t impossible–there were other guys at the bar who’d experienced it, and unless they were all lying…he’d get there eventually. He’d become who he wanted to be one day, even without Pigtown, though it would make it easier. It was then, as he lay in bed, thinking about this, that there was a sudden snore beside him. He looked over, and realized, with a bit of horror, that he wasn’t alone in his bed–beside him, rolled away under the covers, was the back of…well, someone else, still sleeping.

“Fuck,” he said, quietly, wondering what in the hell he was going to do. His dad was home, and he always got up before Carter, especially on the weekends. Now he had a stranger, from Pigtown, and he had to try and sneak him out of the house before his dad asked any horrible questions, or did something even more awkward, like invite him to eat breakfast with them. He got up, and threw on some boxers–hoped that the man would stay sleeping for a bit longer–and went out to scout the house, and see where his father was. With luck, he might be reading the paper in the backyard, and give him a longshot chance to sneak this guy out without being seen.

The house, however, was empty. His dad was probably running errands or something, thank goodness. He ran back upstairs, but stopped himself before shaking the man awake. He…knew that face, didn’t he? Was it someone he’d fucked around with before, in the bar? Someone he’d woken up with? This wasn’t, after all, the first awkward morning-after he’d had, but it was the first time anyone had come home with him. He couldn’t worry about this–it didn’t matter who it was, all that mattered was that he got this fucker out of his house as quickly as he could, before his dad got back from wherever he was.

“Hey, Hey!” he said, giving the man a shake, “Get up–you gotta go.”

The man gave a grumble, and rubbed his eyes, before blinking them open. “W-Where…what the fuck…”

“Yo, get up, get your clothes on. My…housemate can’t see you here.”

The man didn’t seem to be listening. He was just…kind of shaking, looking around the room, trying to understand what had happened. “I…I don’t…I didn’t want…” before he could get anything else out, he leaned over the side of the bed, and puked his guts up onto the carpet beside the bed. It was…grey. The guy must have been eating ash–Carter had puked shit up like that before himself, in the mornings after he got a little extra carried away. He sighed, touched the guy’s shoulder, and he flinched away from him, and scooted back away from him, wiping his bearded lips. The man looked at him again, his eyes focusing a bit better on him, and they went wide with shock. “C-Carter?”

Fuck, they did know each other, but from where? “Look, we can catch up later, you have my number, but you have to get out.”

“What the fuck–was that…was that you?” he said, “You…they…you fucked me, you…fucked me, and–and I wanted it, and…” He rolled over to the other side of the bed and tried to puke again, but his guts were already mostly empty, so he just heaved a few times.

Carter was mostly confused. This was the first time someone had reacted so badly after waking up–with him at least. He’d been pretty freaked out like this the first time–had it been this guy’s first time last night? But then how had they known each other? Gears clicked and whirred, and the realization came to him. He tried to deny it. It couldn’t be him. He’d been working late, and he’d left before he’d gotten home. Had he followed him? How had he even found it in the first place? Wasn’t…wasn’t his dad straight, anyway?

No, it couldn’t be his dad, it couldn’t be him…right?

Pigtown Provides: Episode 1 (Part 1)

All Ashford wanted was for his son to talk to him again. It felt like it had been ages since they’d last sat down together–over a meal, or playing a game, or just out on the back porch–and really talked to one another. When Carter had been younger, he’d never had a problem telling him anything, and Ashford loved listening to him, and learning from him. There was something about how a child saw the world that made you look at things differently, sometimes like you were seeing them for the first time ever, and Carter, too, had always seen his dad as some amazing repository of knowledge. Everyone had to grow up sometime, though, and Ashford could have accepted that, or at least, he’d told himself that he’d need to accept it at some point.

For a time, he’d been able to pass the distance growing between them off as as just that–his son just growing up, and while he was never quite the buoyant, precocious little twerp he’d been before, he still was, well, normal. Normal interests, like a normal boy. But things had started to shift at some point–Ashford had never really been able to pinpoint where exactly, but things certainly hadn’t been easy, after his son had told him he was gay. While Ashford did his best to be supportive, he knew almost nothing about it. It wasn’t that though, but it was something else like that. He started keeping secrets from him, outright lying to him on occasion. Ashford was too afraid to put his foot down, worried he’d just drive him further and further away, but he just kept drifting all the same. Still, when Carter graduated from high school, he could still recognize him. It was sometime during Carter’s sophomore year at college that…something struck him, hard.

Carter had gone to the state school in the city, close enough that he could live at home, and take the lightrail to campus each day. Ashford gave him the space he felt he needed, but did his best to enforce some boundaries too–making him get a job and buy his own groceries and pay for his own transportation. He had a habit of staying out late with his friends, and Ashford didn’t pry into where he was going, or who he was seeing, figuring Carter would bring someone home when he was comfortable doing so. Then, from one day to the next, one Carter left to go to school in the morning, and the next day, a…different young man left his son’s room, came down, and ate breakfast with him at the table. His head…told him he was his son, and he had no trouble recognizing him…but how had he grown a beard overnight? And why did he smell like cigars?

Carter grew more and more distant after that. His grades were suffering too, and the friends he’d been hanging around with before had been replaced with others, older men mostly, scruffier, and not the sort of type Ashford wanted him associating with. On one hand, he was his own person, but didn’t he have some duty as a father to make sure he wasn’t in trouble? Frustrated that Carter wouldn’t talk to him about what was going on with him, wouldn’t explain why he kept wearing all that leather, and who those old men commenting on his facebook selfies were with all that…inappropriate innuendo. In the end, he did it not for Carter’s sake, but for his own peace of mind. He just had to know that he was alright, that he wasn’t in any real trouble. So here he was, on a Saturday night downtown, following his son down a lonely sidewalk, watching the cloud of cigar smoke drifting up as he strode in his leather pants and jacket, looking lonelier than Ashford had ever seen him in his life.

He just wanted to rush up to him and hug him, tell him everything was going to be alright, tell him that no matter what it was that was going on with him, whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into, that he’d help him if he could. He didn’t though. He hung back most of a block behind him, waiting as Carter chatted with a few guys he passed along the way, laughing and chuckling, more than one sharing a kiss with them, and the occasional grope. He’d never imagined Carter doing something like that…maybe he’d never known him as well as he’d thought. He followed him deeper into the city’s gay district, away from the well travelled streets and down into the alleys, where he stopped at an unmarked door–aside from a sign hanging above it with the face of a cartoon pig winking on it, and rang the buzzer. After a moment, the door opened, Carter slipped inside, and then he was gone.

Was that it? What was behind that door? A club of some sort, probably. But what was wrong with that, exactly? He hadn’t been buying drugs. He wasn’t working the street as a prostitute…probably. But none of his questions were answered by this…but maybe, if he went in…and then what? Maybe he should just accept that his son had grown up and away, that there was nothing he could do to fix the distance between them. He was, most of all, tired–and wanted to go to bed. He turned around, when three burly guys turned the corner in the alley and started coming towards him. He froze. The space was a bit too narrow to pass them easily, and he didn’t really want to get into trouble with anyone.

One of them whistled. It took him a moment to realize it was directed at him–that all three of them were staring right at him, coming closer, the one in the back openly groping his crotch. “Now what’s a cute little business bear like you doing in a scummy little alley like this?” one of them said, closing the distance between them, the others circling and pinning him to the brick wall in a semicircle.

“I was just…leaving, actually, if you wouldn’t mind,” Ashford said, and tried to push his way out of the three of them, but when he tried, one of the bears just spun him around, pushed him back to the brick and leaned into him–where he could feel the man’s hard cock pressed against his ass through both of their pants.

“Leaving? But the night’s just getting started. You weren’t gonna leave without going inside, were you? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you around here before, buddy.”

“Get off me, you fucking homo!” Ashford said, and shoved back from the wall, making the bear come away from him laughing. The other bears were chuckling too. He tried to get back out of the mouth of the alley, but before he got very far, two of the bears grabbed him, and the third, who he’d shouted at, stepped very close to his face.

“Homo, eh? And what does that make you?”

“You don’t…I was looking for my son.”

One of the bears whistled, and the bear put on a mocking grin, “Oh daddy, don’t worry about your little boy, I’m sure he can find someone better than you in there. Hell, he probably already has. But I’ll tell you what–why don’t you let the boys and I give you a tour? See if we can find him for you. Or who knows, maybe you’ll find something a little better–us homos have a way of knowing what men are looking for,” he reached out and started rubbing Ashford’s cock through his pants, and with the other hand, grabbed him around the back of the neck and pulled him into a kiss, Ashford trying to pull away from the man’s breath that mostly smelled of cigars, until he pulled away. “Come on guys, let’s help the daddy find a boy–or something better. After all, you never know what you might find in Pigtown, right?”