Date: Sat, 19 Aug 2017 16:14:36 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Maybe Next Time 2

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/maybe-next-time/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes *BULLYING* and *ABUSIVE SEX* between male teens and
between teens and adult males, many of them related. Go away if any of that
is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write
if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate
to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.

*****

I heard an immense BANG and a deep growl and Tyler's prick was brutally
yanked from my mouth. My eyes, as always when blowing my brother, were
clouded with tears but I made out the form of my bull-like Pops dragging
Tyler by two handfuls of hair down the hall, never letting him get his feet
under him. Tyler was screaming and crying like a baby, worse than I did
even. Pops turned and growled, "Shut the fucking door, get that shit off
your face and go the bed, Kyle. NOW!"

***** Maybe Next Time 2: Pop to the Rescue

By Bear Pup

*****

I had never seen Pop so furious. I grabbed my t-shirt and started to get
the whorish lipstick off, as well as my tears and snot from the crying
jag. I crawled into bed and pulled the cover up, but could hear shouting
and banging and crying from the bathroom next door. I didn't even bother
turning out the lights. Perhaps an hour later, the door banged open again.

Pop was dressed in a stained t-shirt and jeans. He was dragging a
still-naked Tyler, face puffy and red, eyes bloodshot and streaming
tears. In my entire life, I'd never seen Tyler like that. Tyler was the Top
Dog, the implacable and unstoppable force, the Golden Boy of sport and
school. Now he was a crying child. Pop threw him into the room and Tyler
just barely kept his feet.

"Turn around!" He turned towards me, head hung down and hands covering his
crotch in apparent shame. "Hands at your sides!" Tyler sobbed and put his
hands down. My jawed dropped practically to the bedsheets. The cock that
had come to rule my little slice of hell was imprisoned in a clear plastic
housing that had to be far too small for the monster that, even limp, Tyler
was so proud of. There was a tiny, steel lock at the bottom where a hoop
went around his sizeable nuts.

"Look up. Look at Kyles eyes and don't you fucking dare look down again!"

Tyler's eyes met mine and I shuddered inside. His eyes held a horror I've
never seen outside a slasher flick. He swallowed convulsively but held my
gaze. His breathing was short, panicked, desperate, afraid.  I couldn't
help but look down to his cock frequently, but his eyes were always waiting
when I looked back up.

"Now, you fucking little prick, explain, in detail, what it is and what it
does and why it's there." Tyler visibly quailed and tears stared rolling
down his cheeks again. "NOW!" he flinched hard.

"It-t-t-t's a c-c-cock-cage. I c-c-c-can't get hard and I can't cum unless
P-P-P-Pop unlocks me."

My mouth was still hanging open. "Does it hurt?"

Tyler sobbed once and nodded. Pop shouted, "TELL HIM!"

"Yes! Um, yes, it hurts, a little. It-t-t-t-t isn't comfortable and Pops
had to use ice to get it in-n-n-n-n." The word ice dripped with frozen
dread and I winced at the thought of ice *down there*.

"Now tell him why."

"Because I u-u-u-u-used you as a whore. I used my brother," his eyes were
still on mine and I didn't see remorse, I saw fear of Pop, nothing more,
"to get off. I am so sorry, Kyle." He wasn't. He was reciting what he'd
been told. "I should never have done it and I d-d-d-d-deserve to b-b-b-be
p-p-punished. I d-d-d-don't deserve a c-c-c-cock. I don't deserve to..." He
sobbed and Pop growled and he jumped back on script, "to cum! I don't
deserve to cum. And if I'm good and do everything I'm told I'll get to, to,
to cum again when Pop thinks I deserve it." Tyler sobbed loudly.

"So, you have to wear it all the time?" I was stunned and a bit horrified
myself.

"Yes. I have to wear it all the time. Pop will t-t-t-take it off to clean
me but the he'll," his voice shook with dread, "use the ice to put it back
on."

It suddenly, like a stroke of lightning, dawned on me. My pseudo-prayer had
come true! 'Maybe Pops will stop it.' And he DID! I started crying myself,
not in fear and torment like Tyler but in joyous relief.

Pop turned to me and his voice softened. "Kyle, you will report to me each
night how Tyler," his voice dripped venom all over my brother's name,
"treated you and anyone else you saw him with that day. What happens,
Tyler, based on what I hear from Kyle?"

Tyler's voice was terribly small, but his eyes were still locked to
mine. "If I'm rude, it adds a day. It I bully someone, it adds t-t-t-two
days. If I'm mean to you, it add-d-d-d-d-ds a week." He sobbed openly then
and dropped his eyes for the first time, completely undone.

"Tyler needs a night or two to reflect on how he got here, Kyle. Come
on. You sleep in my room tonight."

I looked up at Pop, utterly in hero-worship mode. "But I'm naked, Pop."

"I sleep raw just like you are now. Come on." He turned to Tyler. "You! I
want you standing in front of that mirror," we had mirrored doors on the
closet, "for one hour starting now, staring at that cock cage and what it
means. Look long and hard -- HA -- at what your behavior had brought you
to. You can start asking for permission to cum on Wednesday." Tyler sobbed
in abject horror. Five days caged before he could *start* to hope? He came
a minimum of twice a day, every day. I fought hard not to smile in gleeful
anticipation of my new power to extend that time. "Come on, Kyle. Up and at
'em."

I practically bounced out of bed and followed Pop to the master
bedroom. Truth told, it wasn't much larger than ours, but it had a king
bed. Pop stripped off and sat on one side of the bed. He motioned me over
to stand in front of him. He looked me up and down critically.

"Fuck. So, I've got a bully and a cocksucker for sons. What the fuck did I
do to deserve that." He spread his legs and I saw his cock was
rising. "Well, at least one of you has a use. Show me what you can do,
cocksucker. Show me what your fuck-up of a brother has taught you so far,
Kyle."

I stood there and stared, all elation burned away like morning mist. I
could not be hearing this. He could not be saying this! SMACK! I didn't
even see his hand move before he slapped my face, stinging brutally. It
wasn't as hard a slap as Tyler normally used, but it *burned*, as did the
shock of it, the shock of what he wanted. He pulled his hand back for
another and I dropped to my knees. I was already crying again, but I leaned
forward and licked the leaking tip. Pop sighed.

The taste was very different. Deep, stronger, more masculine and also a bit
sour. I braced myself on his strong legs and I started to take the head all
the way into my mouth. I got a painful knuckle-knock on my head. "Your
hands can be on my shaft, balls or ass, cocksucker. No place else, Kyle,
unless I tell you."

I reached down and started to caress and fondle the rather large nuts below
my chin and I tried to take more of Pop into my mouth. He was quite a bit
longer but also thinner than Tyler, so I was able to go much farther with a
lot less trouble. Pops moaned low and, for reasons I can't explain, that
suddenly made me very proud. I made sure to keep my teeth well away and
made sure my tongue was constantly lapping and caressing. Pop growled.

"Damn, that's fine. Fuck, I've needed this. Keep going, Kyle. Show Pops
what you can do with the dick that shot you into this world." His words
encouraged me as Tyler never had and I worked diligently and determinedly
to pleasure my father. He moaned and cussed and called me cocksucker and
all sorts of other things.

"Okay, enough playing. Feels great, Kyle, but I need to finish and we get
to bed. So, go ahead and get me in deep, son." In deep? What? I was already
as deep as I could go. I kept going as far as I could and looked up at
Pop's face pleadingly. "What? He never taught you to deep throat? Fucking
asshole. I bet he just shoved it in and let you puke your guts out?" I
nodded around his cock.

"Fine, fuck. Get a lot of spit in your mouth." I felt his hands at the back
of my head. "When I start pushing, you start swallowing over and over, got
me? We'll make a real cocksucker out of you yet." I felt the pressure start
and tried to swallow around the bulbous head of my father's dick, but it
wasn't going anywhere. He pushed harder, then harder again as I tried to
breathe and swallow.

I wanted to scream when he finally penetrated my throat. I started to gag
and he pulled back. "Don't worry, Kyle, it may take a while for you to get
comfortable with me in your throat, but I promise you'll get there. For
now, though, I need to nut. Deep breath and start swallowing, cocksucker."
The pressure was back and I swallowed again.

This time my gagging was not relevant and Pop pushed more and more until he
was at least a couple of inches into my gullet. He used the pressure on my
head to bob him an inch or so in and out, never leaving my throat. "Yeah,
Kyle, keep that throat swallowing and spasming like that. Fuck, you're a
natural. Yeah, gag on Pop's fuckstick, you little bitch. G-G-G-G-G-Get
ready. YEAH! Yes! Yes! Yes! YESSSSS!" He lodged himself deep and I could
feel his first two shots go straight into my spasming esophagus, then he
pulled back so the rest was in my mouth and I had to take the slimy
boy-batter.

Pop holler and cussed and howled in release. As he tapered off, he started
to talk. "That's right, Kyle. Suck down a few million of your brothers and
sisters. Taste every one of those sperms, each of which might have been
you. And then, maybe, I would have something other than a bully for one son
and a fucking cocksucker for another." His ragged breathing slowed.

"Open your mouth. I want to see your siblings swimming around on your
tongue." I panicked as I'd swallowed everything. I opened my mouth and Pop
scowled. "Never do that again, Kyle. Cocksuckers show me my load, *then*
they swallow." He growled menacingly. "Get me? Don't fuck up again." He
pulled me upright.

"Fuck, you're hard a rock. You really are a fucking cocksucker! So, I'm
gonna show you how you jack off from now on. And you damned well better
make sure you don't cum any other way or you will regret being born." He
lifted me like a toy and my head swam. I found myself on my shoulders, head
bent forward by the mattress, back supported by a pillow and legs straight
up the wall. He pulled my legs toward my head. I realized I was staring at
my own small erection perhaps six inches from my face.

"You'll do this yourself from now on, when I tell you you're allowed to
cum." He reached in and I realized his hand was lubed. He started to
expertly frig my cock, the first person ever to touch my hard dick. I
moaned. I whimpered. I whined. My body stiffened less than a minute later
and I exploded all over my face, accompanied by a gut-deep but
pathetically-high-pitched groan.

As I caught my breath, I heard Pop say, "And every fucking time you cum,
make sure not one damn drop of your cocksucker juice gets on my bed. It
goes on your face and no place else. Then you get up and stand in front of
me." He lifted me, flipped me over and stood me in front of him. I'd
managed (since I was aiming) to miss my eyes and I could see the feral
gleam in his.

"That's what a cocksucker should look like, Karl." He held up one of Mom's
old hand-mirrors. I let loose a quick, silent sob as I saw myself. My face
was covering in my own cum and my lips were puffy from the face-fuck I'd
give myself up for earlier. "Now, use your fingers to get every fucking
drop of your cocksucker slime into your mouth. Every time, you suck your
fingers like a cock to get every trace off." I started to do as I was told,
scraping off the goo and pushing it into my mouth.

"Make a show of it, Kyle, because that's what cocksuckers are for. If you
do it really well, I might give you a second shot at my cock -- not
tonight; tonight I need sleep. But show me you love it." I would not cry. I
refused to cry. But I watched the mirror, mortified, as I did as I was
told, making it look like I loved my own degradation. When I finally
finished, Pop laughed and tousled my hair as if I'd just done well on a
backyard football catch.

"That's my boy. That's my little cocksucker. Come on Kyle, let's get some
sleep." He lifted me effortless into bed and I considered his muscular
physique, something I never really thought of before. Pop was a little
under six feet, with bulging cords of muscle. He was a plumber for a
commercial builder, lugging huge pipes all day long. He had a gut, but not
much of one. He had always been the perfect man in my eyes, but now I
realized he was the perfect masculine ideal as well. He was right; maybe it
was my place to serve him.

He snuggled me into his hairy chest and I felt warm and safe (as well as
denigrated and more than a little repulsed by what I'd become). I fell
asleep to the thought, 'Maybe next time, I can swallow without it hurting
so much.'

The alarm rang for a while and Pop rolled over and beat it into silence. He
returned to him back and started scratching his sweaty nuts and morning
wood. He turned to me and smiled. "Good morning, sunshine. I know you slept
well because so did I." I smiled at him.

"Now, from now on, the clock will be on your side of the bed. Turn it off
instantly, Kyle, the moment it starts. Then come over here and wash my
night-sweat off my balls with your tongue, then suck me til I cum in your
mouth. You can swallow in the morning; I don't need to see that shit first
thing." I was dumbfounded, completely horrified. His smile vanished and
scowl threatened. "Well, cocksucker? Get to it! NOW!"

I crawled down and started to lick his nasty, sweaty, sticky nuts. It was
disgusting, especially deep underneath where a taint of his crack-stench
could be tasted in the sweat of his gooch. But at the same time the smell
did something to me that made me so hard I couldn't stand it. Pop's fuck
noises and moans of satisfaction pushed it even further. When I'd gotten
the last of it, I moved to his cock. My throat was incredibly sore, and I
knew I'd die if he stuck it in there again, so I went bonkers on his dick
and massaged his balls constantly until he screamed out and started
cumming. I swallowed convulsively until he finished.

"Now THAT is how a cocksucker wakes up his man. Good job, Kyle. Go in do
your morning routine but not the shower and no brushing or
mouthwash. Holler when you're done. I've got a surprise for you."

I scurried off, radiantly-pleased with Pop's praise and with the fact that
I hadn't had to choke myself or otherwise get humiliated. I took care of
toilet duty and brushed my teeth, then stood back. "Ready, Pops!"

"You're doing great, Kyle," he said as he came through the door, "Now for
your surprise. You get to cum again this morning." Good, cuz I was about to
explode from the sexual high I'd gotten earlier. "Get in the tub and sit
Indian style." It took me only seconds to be there, knees akimbo, sitting
on my heels and waiting.

"Start Jacking off."

"Um, Pops? Can I, um, c-c-c-can I have lube?"

"Oh, yeah, baby boy, you get lube. Get started and I'll give it to you." I
started to stroke as he walked to the very edge of the tub. I knew it
wouldn't take long, lube or no. "Here's your lube, cocksucker." I was
mortified and disgusted as he started to spray my crotch with his acrid
morning piss. He suddenly growled, "Keep jacking, Kyle, or you may never
get to cum again."

I'd frozen when he started pissing on me, but noticed my cock had never
been harder. I started jacking again, his piss coating my cock and dripping
down my balls. Pop started to wash his stream around, up my chest, over my
legs and arms. Finally, he doused my hair and I had to close my eyes from
the stinging.

"Open your mouth, Kyle, just like you're getting ready to suck off your
Pops." The savage glee in his voice shot through me. Reluctantly,
despairingly, I did and was unsurprised to feel his warm piss start to fill
my mouth. "Close your mouth, cocksucker. Swish that around in your mouth
until you cum." I was crying, but with all the piss there's no way a body
could tell.

The other fact of closing down on a mouthful of piss is that, not only
could I taste it as I swished it round and round; I had to breathe through
my nose, each breath bringing in a fresh wave of my own degradation,
reduced to little more than a urinal by my own father. One part of me
didn't care, though. My balls were already drawn up. I found that climaxing
with a mouthful of, well, anything was a unique experience. Constrained to
only the air I could suck in through my nose, I thought I'd pass out as my
cum splashed against the side of the tub.

"Open your eyes, Kyle. Do it NOW!" It stung like hell but I looked up at
the animalistic triumph on Pop's face. His voice was a low, satisfied purr,
a growl of menace under a velvet smile. "Swallow. I whimpered by realized
there was nothing left for me to do. I almost puked and it took everything
I had to get the vile, warm liquid to go down. I sat gasping.

Pops use his foot to push me to one end of the tub, turning on the faucet
and getting the water warmed. As it flowed, he turned to me. "That piss
marks you as mine. Every real male animal marks his territory and you,
Kyle, are my fucking cocksucker and you're not going to forget it. You get
nothing to eat or drink until lunch, not even water. For the next four
hours, you're gonna taste my piss, your own father's fucking stinking piss,
every time you breathe, every time you swallow. Now you wash me, but don't
open your mouth or left one fucking drop of water in, or I swear you'll
regret it for a very, very long time."

'Maybe next time...' I thought as I picked up the soap, tasting the vile
mess in my mouth, remnants of my father's stale load from the night before,
slight fresher semen from this morning, all buried under an appalling,
horrifying layer of piss-flavor and realized to me dismay... I couldn't
finish the sentence. 'May next time...' was all I had.

<eof>

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