Date: Wed, 28 Sep 2011 14:42:48 +0100 (BST)
From: Mark Brown <writerman99@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: PRISON DAD - PART SEVEN

'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.