Date: Sun, 27 Sep 2020 01:46:17 -0700
From: Ralph Gordon <dadfootlover@gmail.com>
Subject: The swimming pool, me, Dad and Dan [incest and authoritarian themes]

The swimming pool, me, Dad and Dan
by Ralph Gordon

~

All rights are reserved by the author. The author claims all
copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this
story is allowed without the consent of the author. What you are
about to read is a work of fiction. It is meant to explore certain
taboo areas of male desire, including power, control, aggression,
masculinity, helplessness, fetishes, and incest, desires that as
men we often try to suppress or ignore, yet are always there just
below the surface.

P.S. Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful
stories: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Please feel free to email me at dadfootlover@gmail.com. I'd love to
get feedback from you!

~

There are sad consequences of being gay in a small isolated
community, unable to express himself sexually. Like trying to block
a river, it will find a way through, though, causing whatever
damage as it tries to make its way downhill.

To make things worse, the boy had a very strict father who wanted
him to do well at school and have the most extraordinary
self-control over his sexual desires. Growing up would be hell for
the boy who had the unfortunate luck of discovering masturbation at
a young age.

The only man in the boy's life was his father. While he didn't find
himself sexually attracted to the man, he developed a bizarre
fetish for his feet and found himself excited at the thought of
wearing his dad's underwear; the thought of placing his dick where
his dad's penis had been was almost as arousing as the thought of
touching his dad's bare soles with his tongue while the man slept.

He was helplessly pushed towards these abnormal attractions by
being denied a healthy outlet for his sexuality. Or at least that's
what he believed.

His dad was a good father but cruel in his discipline. This would
significantly affect the boy's teenage years.

At a young age, the boy started noticing that he could get pleasure
by pressure to his penis. One day, he was in a swimming pool on a
small island. He placed his penis in front of a water jet, looking
around guiltily, knowing there was something wrong with this kind
of desire. His small penis was hard, and he was enjoying the
feeling when he suddenly saw a shadow over him. He looked up and
saw his dad standing over him.

"What are you doing there?" the father asked.

"Nothing", replied the boy and he pushed himself away from the edge
of the pool, acting innocent.

"Come out", said Dad in a firm voice, slightly angry.

~

I got out, shivering in the cold. Dad put a towel around me and
guided me to our small villa, not too far from the pool. My penis
was still hard from the experience, but one couldn't notice as it
was little back in those days.

"Sit down", ordered dad when we were inside the villa, in his room.
He locked the door and closed the window, putting on the light. He
clearly wanted this moment to be private, and I was afraid of what
he was going to do next. I felt awful and knew this had something
to do with what I was doing in the pool earlier. I just wanted a
little moment of pleasure.

"Tell dad what you were doing in the pool, son," he said. A tear
ran down my cheek. "Just swimming," I replied, hoping he wouldn't
press the issue.

"Take off your swimsuit", he ordered, so I did, feeling the wet
material sliding against my skin. My small penis was now semi-hard,
the foreskin tightly closed around the head. He pulled off the
swimsuit completely with his firm hands, and I was left feeling
very vulnerable. This feeling of vulnerability caused my dick to
twitch in the presence of my earthly creator.

"You see this," he said, grabbing my penis firmly, watching it grow
harder in his hands, "... this is your penis, and sometimes it will
get hard like it is now. It is a normal reaction, but you mustn't
play with it or rub it with anything. Don't touch it and it will
get back to normal again soon."

It was unbearable hearing those words from him. I wanted him to
play with it more and make me feel good. I wanted to give myself up
to him completely.

"Why?" I asked, always one to enquire about anything.

"If you play with it, it can damage it. You might also start doing
it all the time until it becomes an addiction; it's kinda like some
people can't stop smoking. You understand?"

"I wasn't playing with it. I was just tickling it in front of the
fast water."

"Doesn't matter how you play with it; I want you to stop, you
understand?"

"Yes, ok", I replied sadly, confused and feeling very bad about
myself. I had been caught redhanded (or hard-dicked!).

"Let me check something", he said, using his finger and thumb to
gently pull my foreskin backwards. It slid a millimetre or so, then
stopped and it started to hurt.

"Ow," I cried like a hurt animal, jutting my hips backwards to
avoid any further stretching.

"You mustn't pull this back without my permission. It's called your
foreskin, and it protects your penis beneath. We need to gently
pull it back one day with some cream, but I need to be there."

"Ok", I replied, not realising that dad wanted to have ultimate
control over my sexual experiences. He wanted to dictate what I
could and couldn't do regarding my penis, to control and suppress
my sexual expression, using fear to guilt me into complete
chastity. I assumed that he controlled his penis too, not realising
that he occasionally masturbated, to porn even. He would force me
to have self-control even if he couldn't achieve the unrealistic
and lofty goal, punishing me for his weakness to make him feel like
he had control.

"How many times does it get hard like this?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"Put on some trousers. Don't put any underwear. I'm going to check
tonight at dinner if you get hard again. I want you to try hard to
keep it soft. It's good for you. It's best to start now."

"Why no underwear?" I asked.

"It's easier to see - well... feel - an erection when you're just
wearing trousers."

"Erection?"

"That's when your penis gets hard. Don't talk to anyone at school
about this; you better keep it between you and me. These things are
best discussed within a father and son bubble." Dad walked to the
cupboard and got a thin pair of trousers and made me wear them
without underwear. "Good boy," he said when they were on. I saw the
outline of my small, now soft, cock and understood what he meant
about being able to check if it got hard at any time. I felt proud
that it was down, happy that I was satisfying my dad. This would
get much harder, so to speak, in years to come.

In the evening, we went to dinner. The tables were on the sand, and
the table cloth almost reached the ground. Before we sat down, Dad
instructed me, "When I say 'test', I want you to pull your trousers
down so that your penis is exposed. I'm going to feel it with my
foot to check if it's still soft. Try and keep it limp as much as
possible. It's going to help you in the future when you start
having stronger desires to touch it and play with it."

This would start off - strengthen, rather - my foot fetish, feeling
stronger about my dad's feet than any other man's. Years later, I
would run under his bed at home when he came home from work to
catch a glimpse of the soles of his feet. I would watch from under
the bed as he sat down and pulled off his shoes, then his socks to
expose the beautiful bare skin. I would eagerly wait for him to do
the same to the other foot. I would pray that he would sit there
for longer. I would bring my face as close as possible to his
soles, fantasising about licking and smelling them. They looked so
powerful, especially as they were the part of him that tested
whether I had been a good boy. My feet were nothing like his,
making the worship of his feet even more arousing. I was the
imperfect worshipping the perfect. When he lay down on the bed to
read, I would poke my head out slightly from under, hoping to see
his feet extending over the end of the bed, watching his toes
occasionally move, begging me to come up and lick them. My dick
would throb helplessly in my shorts; I had no idea what to do with
my erection after he had scared me into never acting on my sexual
urges. I would wait for him to leave the room before I crept out
from my hiding place or if he took too long, I would come out and
pretend as though I had been waiting to surprise him. Eventually,
he said that this behaviour wasn't acceptable and so my days of
hiding under the bed, waiting for his feet had to stop for good.
The thrill of what I did still gets my cock hard to this day.

Back to the present. I agreed to his test, trying hard to keep my
cock soft. It was easier back then when I first started getting the
urges. I didn't know how addictive the build-up to, and the release
during, a male orgasm was. He told me to keep the table cloth over
my groin when he demanded that I pull down my trousers. Halfway
through the dinner, he said the magic word 'test', and I obediently
covered my lower half with the table cloth and pulled down my
trousers, lifting them a little so that they wouldn't rub against
my penis until my limp member was exposed under the table. I felt
what I thought was the ball of his foot pressing against my penis.
He pushed my dick and balls once with his foot, then again a second
time, moving it around a little to confirm his finding. The
pressure started to excite me, and my penis started to grow, but
luckily he put his foot down before he noticed anything. "Good,"
was his only comment.

I secretly looked forward to the next time he would carry out the
test. It made my dick hard just thinking about it and the
conflicting emotions I was feeling made me feel uncomfortable.
During dessert, he said 'test' once more. I repeated my end of the
procedure, but the excitement of waiting for his feet to touch me
there got me hard. I looked down, disappointed in myself, trying
hard to make the erection go away, but to no avail. I felt his
strong foot gently make contact with my penis. He pushed it back
towards my body, letting his foot slide roughly against the
underside of my rigid member until it reached the head. I felt his
toes poke my belly as the arch of his foot pressed hard against the
very tip of my dick, the only part that wasn't entirely covered by
foreskin. "Sorry," I said, my dick throbbing, aching for more
contact with his foot as he put it back on the sand.

"You don't have enough control of it," he said. "You'll pay for it
in the future. You'll become addicted to playing with it if you
don't learn to keep it soft."

I didn't understand why my penis wasn't behaving. I felt so
ashamed. In a few minutes, I was soft again and told him to feel it
once more.

"I'm going to find a way to help you," he said, not bothering to
carry out his test again, making my efforts to please him useless.
I longed for his feet to touch me again, to punish me. I remembered
the feeling of his demanding foot pressing hard against the tip of
my penis, how I wanted to jut my hips upwards to feel more of it,
to feel it rubbing my cock over and over again. It was good, I
suppose, that I didn't know what a full orgasm to a male foot felt
like at the time. Otherwise, my cravings for his feet would have
been even more intense!

~

A year later, a few days after my birthday, Dad came to my room
after work and told me that we were going to visit his friend,
Dan.

"It's time for the first step in becoming a man. We need to pull
your foreskin back. If it doesn't work, you might need a
circumcision."

"What's a circumcision?" I asked, frightened.

"It's when they have to remove your foreskin in an operation.
Hopefully, you won't have to go through that. Dan's very good at
helping boys pull back their foreskin."

I got very quiet, afraid that Dan was going to see me naked and
touch me there, worried that I might need the operation. We got in
the car and drove to Dan's place. He came out to meet dad. My neck
felt cold. I said 'hi' quietly as dad led me into Dan's house. I
noticed that Dan's feet were very similar to my dad's. They were
large, caucasian feet with large arches. This was thanks to the
Dutch genes that Dan had. It was almost as if Dad knew what type of
feet were my weakness, and he was exposing me to those types in
particular. Although I was nervous, seeing the attractive man and
his feet stimulated me in a new way. This was a man who was not
related to me and yet had similar genetics to my father. My
instinct was to slide my penis along his broad, pale soles, but I
did not dare tell either man about this perverted desire.

"Will you be there, Dad?" I asked, desperate to have him there when
they did what they had to do to my penis.

"Yes," he replied.

Dan led us to a room. In the centre was this kind of long chair
that made an angle to the floor, though it was practically parallel
to the floor. That's when I noticed straps for wrists and ankles
that were clearly meant to hold me in place.

"Please, Dad, I don't want to do this," I pleaded, too afraid to
cry, turning to face the door. Dan quickly grabbed me from behind,
his strong arms lifting me off the ground while Dad grabbed my
legs. I felt so betrayed by Dad.

"It's for your own good, son. Don't worry; it's not going to hurt."

His last sentence reassured me, though my heart was beating fast.

"If you do as I say, this will be over quickly. Now take off your
clothes and don't try anything silly or I'm going to punish you
when we get home," Dad continued. He let my legs go. Dan released
me from his firm grip and went to lock the door to the room.
Beneath my fear, I had a strange feeling of excitement, knowing I
had no choice in this. The fear and uncertainty won out, though. I
was trembling as I took off my shirt and shorts.

"My underwear too, Dad?"

"Yes, everything. Leave it all on the floor."

I slipped off the underwear, facing away from the two men. Dan
laughed, "You're going to have to show us that anyway. You don't
have to be shy."

I couldn't get myself to turn towards the two authoritarian men,
embarrassed by my now semi-erect dick.

"Lie down on the chair," commanded Dad, "facing up!"

I reluctantly made my way to the chair and slowly sat down, then
lay on my back, my head turned away from the men, my body feeling
vulnerable, a tear sliding down my right cheek.

Dan secured my arms and legs in the straps without regard to my
emotions. I only struggled on the last strap as I became aware of
how I wouldn't be able to stop them from doing anything they wanted
to me.

"Are you comfortable?" asked Dan. I nodded, and he reached down and
pressed a button. The chair made a buzzing noise, and it eventually
attained a forty-five-degree angle with the floor. I felt even more
vulnerable. I couldn't stop thinking about what they were going to
do to my penis. I had tried pulling back my foreskin in the bath
before but had only succeeded by a few millimetres. Any further
would have caused me pain.

"If there's any pain, you need to resist the urge to scream, so I'm
just going to put something in your mouth to stop you from making
noises," said Dad. I looked to where he was, and I saw him taking
off his shoes and socks, He crumpled up one of the socks and
ordered, "Open your mouth!" I did as he commanded, and he pushed it
into my mouth. He held it there as I tried to push it out with my
tongue, tasting the sweat of his feet. That's when my penis started
swelling further. I tried to keep it down as Dad wanted, but the
sexual excitement was getting to be too much. Dad then used his
other sock to hold the first one in place. He placed the middle of
it on my mouth and tied the sock at the back of my head. It was
really tight. That way, he didn't have to do any work to keep the
first sock in place. I tried to say something, but it came out
muffled. Dan smiled. He was standing near my feet. He pressed
another button, and I realised that the bottom of the chair could
be split into two, pushing my legs apart in this V-shape, my groin
being the apex, the focus of attention.

Dan sat on a stool between my legs and looked at my semi-hard
penis. I watched in horror as my dick literally twitched to the
rhythm of my heartbeat, giving away how this was making me feel.

"Something's exciting him," he noted, a slight smile on his face,
like this was not the first time he had seen a youth exposed and
aroused.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, the fear evident in my voice,
partly wanting to know exactly what I was going to be experiencing.

"We need to pull back this tight foreskin your dad says you have.
You've reached the age where this should happen by itself; a gentle
tug on it should cause it to peel back, exposing your glans
beneath. The glans is the most sensitive part of your penis, and
you need to be able to expose it when you're having sex with a nice
girl in the future. We're going to help you achieve this. Just try
and relax and we'll get to work. Don't worry. It's just going to be
hands and a lot of cream to make the job easier."

Dan pressed another button, and I saw this pole descend from the
ceiling, onto which small cameras were attached. My eyes opened
wide, my heart beating fast.

 "Wh-uuunnnh un uunhh!". I couldn't say anything through Dad's
socks. My movement was so restricted. I felt so helpless. They
could do anything to me.

"It's to film the experience for the future. I need it to see how
different boys behave during the procedure so I can improve the
process for next time. I'll send a copy to your dad," said Dan.

~

The boy felt so exposed lying there, with two grown men and cameras
looking at his naked body, preparing to fiddle with his most
private parts. He tried desperately to fight it, but more tears
started forming in his eyes. He could only watch as the men did
whatever they pleased to his penis, now soft and flexible, fear
taking over any feelings of pleasure.

"We need some lube," said Dan, looking up at dad. "I forgot to
bring some."

"Damn," said Dad. He pondered awhile, then said, "We'll make our
own."

Dan smiled and nodded. "Let's blindfold your son first. Don't worry
boy, we'll take it off soon enough. You're just too young to
understand this part of the procedure."

The boy was clearly confused but nodded. Dan loved the feeling of
having this guy helplessly lying on his chair, still innocent. Dan
took out a blindfold and a cup from a small cupboard in the room
and tied it around the boy's head, covering his eyes thoroughly. He
slid in two bits of foam between the boy's eyes and the blindfold
to ensure that his eyelids were firmly shut.

"You go first," said Dan.

The father carefully slipped off his pants and underwear, exposing
his own semi-hard penis. The boy had no idea what was about to
happen, waiting patiently for Dan's hand to touch his penis.

Dad quickly pulled back his foreskin and spat a little on the
glans. He rolled the foreskin back and forth over his glans,
building up to an orgasm. He loved the feeling of being free to
masturbate whenever he pleased while restricting his son's sexual
freedom. It gave him this immense feeling of control, enjoying the
fact that he was depriving his son of sexual pleasure. Dan slipped
off his own trousers and underwear and grabbed the boy's penis
firmly, pulling back the foreskin as far as it would go, exposing a
few millimetres of the boy's pink glans. He couldn't wait to force
the foreskin further back. Dad was silent as he stroked himself.

"Put some of it on his penis and the rest in the cup," said Dan,
holding the cup in his other hand.

Dad lined up his rock hard cock so that the piss slit was
practically touching the exposed glans of the boy.

"Here it comes," said Dad, as his thick white cum came spurting out
of his mighty penis. Two spurts landed on the boy's exposed glans
and the remainder of his penis. Dad unloaded the rest in Dan's cup
so that it could be used later. The father admired the white goo on
his son's penis, his baby-makers so close to his son's baby-makers,
and wondered what the experience must have been like for the boy,
feeling the white fluid spreading over his helpless cockhead.

~

I didn't know what they were doing down there. I was surprised they
hadn't done anything to my penis yet. I felt Dan's hand grab it
suddenly, and I concentrated on what he was doing to it. Sometime
later, I felt this warm liquid splash onto my dick. It was a nice
feeling actually, and I wondered if this might end up being a
pleasant experience. I was already getting used to the two men
seeing my body like this.

~

Dan then started jacking off himself, eager to add his share to the
lubricant. "This stuff lasts a lot longer than simple saliva," he
told Dad. A few minutes later, his penis erupted white man juice
into the cup, the boy completely unaware of what the lubricant was.
Dan milked his cock thoroughly, squeezing the last few drops
directly onto the boy's cockhead, his more massive penis head
rubbing the less mature one.  "It's time to start the official
procedure," he said.

The boy was tense, his senses heightened to anything happening to
his groin. Dan used his index finger to rub Dad's semen over the
exposed part of the boy's glans, pushing firmly on the foreskin.
This excited the boy, and his penis started growing in Dan's hand.
With one hand, Dan held the penis in place, and with the other, he
worked hard to push the foreskin back. It seemed to move an extra
millimetre. Dan dipped his finger in the cup for more warm, fresh
lube and started applying more force to the stubborn foreskin. He
saw the boy move about in his restraints and heard him make a sound
through the sock that sounded like he was in a bit of pain. This
excited Dan, knowing he wouldn't hurt the boy but that it caused
him a great deal of discomfort nonetheless. Dan stayed silent,
enjoying the thrill of causing distress to his helpless victim by
his merciless procedure. He kept the force on the foreskin, using
some more semen, massaging it vigorously where the foreskin stuck
to the glans, pushing strongly with his fingers, trying to pull
back the petal of this precious male flower. He was pleased when he
saw the foreskin move back several more millimetres, revealing more
purply pink cockhead. Dan knew how sensitive freshly exposed glans
was. He began to rub the exposed part of the cockhead up and down
with his masculine fingers, using plenty of semen for lube. The boy
wasn't enjoying the experience. He was moaning a lot through the
sock and fighting the restraints that kept him on the chair. There
would be no escaping, however. The foreskin had to be pulled back.
His father was going to waste no time in getting him through the
first stage of manhood.

"Be strong, boy," said Dan as he began to further push the foreskin
back over the head. "We're about a third done."

The boy started crying, shaking his head from side to side.

"It's always painful to pull it back the first time," Dan reassured
him.

Dan pushed the foreskin in the other direction to cover the glans
then yanked it back down as far as it would go. The boy yelped
through the sock as the foreskin came to an abrupt stop a few
millimetres further down than before, much to Dan's satisfaction.
He pushed it over the glans and yanked it down once more. He
repeated this a few more times, the boy struggling to get out of
the restraints, feeling like his sensitive cockhead was being torn,
having no idea what exactly was happening. Dan was pleased with how
quickly the foreskin was moving back over the glans. It took hours
of pulling with some boys. This one wouldn't take more than twenty
minutes. He masturbated the exposed part of the boy's dick head
which was very sensitive as it had never been rubbed by a foreign
object directly before. The boy's cock remained somewhere between
semi-hard and fully erect, despite the pain, the pressure being
applied by Dan making it hard, the fear and pain doing the
opposite.

Dan continued relentlessly, pushing back the foreskin firmly like a
surgeon getting on with the task at hand, yanking it back at times,
massaging the cockhead at others. Every bit of freshly exposed
cockhead was given special attention. Dan knew that the lower parts
of the acorn had never been touched before by any man, and knowing
this brought him a lot of pleasure, especially when he applied
generous amounts of mixed semen from the cup directly onto those
areas, making circles with his manly digits, uncovering more and
more of the virgin territory.

He loved watching the boy struggling to escape from the inescapable
situation. Dad watched the scene unfolding before his eyes. He
loved seeing his son being treated like this, humiliated by another
man. The boy would scream every time Dan yanked the foreskin back,
each time succeeding in pulling it even further. Soon, the entire
glans was exposed, coated with a mixture of the men's semen. The
boy was in pain, his dickhead dark red, throbbing after the
onslaught.

Dan removed the boy's blindfold. "Have a look," he said.

The boy slowly looked down to see his dick in a completely new
state. His smooth cockhead was entirely exposed, coated in some
strange liquid. Dan massaged it slowly while the boy watched.

~

Years later, happily married with a fully retractable foreskin, the
boy, now an adult, rewatched the video of the day his foreskin was
successfully retracted by Dan. He especially liked the last few
minutes where Dan kept adding more of the white fluid to the
youth's penis and calmly rubbed the exposed glans over and over
with his determined fingers. He watched his younger self stop
struggling in the restraints as pleasure replaced pain and a sweet,
pleasurable feeling overtook his penis and entire being. He smiled
as he watched himself have his first orgasm with Dan and Dad at his
side.

Sometimes he would go to Dan's place, and they would talk about
those days. He would thank Dan for being the one to expose his
cockhead and give him such a satisfying first orgasm.

He never told his wife that many of his orgasms were spurred by
thoughts of Dan's broad feet and masculine fingers.

~

END