Date: Sun, 23 Apr 2017 07:31:38 +0000 From: Rob Armstrong Subject: SPIKES BOARDING HOUSE 5 SPIKES BOARDING HOUSE: CHAPTER 5: WHAT'S UP WITH DAD? THESE STORIES CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN FATHERS, SONS AND/ OR GRANDSONS, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED. THE AUTHOR IN NO WAY CONDONES UNDERAGE OR NON-CONSENSUAL SEX - THE ACTS HERE REPRESENT MERE FANTASY AND, IF ACTED UPON IN THE REAL WORLD, WOULD DESTROY LIVES AND NOTHING LESS. PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE GOING. NB: See 'Spike's Piercing Parlour' series, November 24th 2012 and 'Spikle's Diaries' series, August 28th 2016 The author would like to thank the producers of FX's series, 'AHS: Hotel' as well as the creator of the gay sex tumblr 'The Lodging House' for inspiring this new series. Spike's Boarding House: Chapter Five - What's Up With Dad? Eddie Bearquiver. Stains before him now on the picnic table. Cum stains? Claw marks in the wood. Dog claws? Brian just sat there. Thunderstruck. ...And he remembered. He remembered pretty much all of it. And immediately wished he hadn't. Some of it really grossed him out. But how much of it was a dream? And how much had really happened? Clearly some of it was true, how else could he have learned the name of the washtub cowboy? God, and it wasn't just the dream. Jeez, that guy Rokeby had been molesting his sons right in front of everybody and he was obviously having sex with them on a regular basis. And apparently they were all heavily into the SM scene together - presumably Robbie had been lashing his father and older brother out in one of the ruins. Gross. Gross gross gross gross gross! And yet if it was all that repellent, why was his dick throbbing harder than he'd ever remembered and leaking like a faucet into his shorts? He needed to walk to clear his head. Fortunately the burning in his ass was subsiding so he didn't have to hobble quite so badly. Before he knew it, he found himself back in the old mining settlement... Again he thought about his dream and tried to untangle fact from fantasy. In doing so he had to face up to some of the more disgusting aspects... But no - he wasn't being completely honest with himself. If he thought about it, elements such as the shit-eating and the animal sex were strange, unexpected... disturbing, even - but they couldn't have truly disgusted him because his unconscious had enjoyed them and his dick drooled even more now at the thought. So he guessed he had learned something about himself. Okay. So. Phoebe and the creek? Obviously the stuff of dreams - Sophie was half a world away in Europe and the creek part had happened in broad daylight. The coral and the picnic table? Now there he wasn't so sure. It had taken place at night, which would make sense if he had somehow gone sleep-walking. That was where he'd learned Eddie's name. He had gotten fucked. Deal with it. The way his ass hurt today was evidence. Whether it had been by the bird dog or the human gang rape - or both - his hole was no longer cherry. The walking seemed to help, because his hole was no longer on fire. It did feel incredibly dry, though, and sensitive. Brian ducked into the cover behind one of the old shacks and dropped his shorts in order to inspect himself again... He bent over. Very gingerly he put a forefinger to his hole. Ouch. He licked the finger tip and tried again. Better. Carefully he rubbed at the spot. When he checked, there was no blood on his finger. But now the hole was itchy and begging for attention. Brian was at a loss, he had no lotion or cream to rub onto it. But then he noticed the copious strings of drool oozing from his still-angry cock head and inspiration struck. He gathered as much as he could on his finger and then experimentally probed at his backdoor. It was the perfect lubricant. Brian sighed. But the itch went deeper - inside. His tunnel was still on fire up there but now it burned... so good... A more generous precum application and he found he was able to glide his finger right up there and poke it around. Brian groaned out loud at the relief this brought him. His inner hole felt so hot now... and hungry... so Brian fed it his finger, bucking up and down on his haunches, moaning and groaning as his fingertip pressed over his hard little nub inside. Relief had turned to pleasure, and in an erotic circle, the more he finger fucked himself, the more his dick head seeped lube... Somewhere in the distance a dog began barking... ...which led to Brian's recollection of how sensuously that bird dog's crotch fur had stroked his tight ass flesh... ...how deep that massive canine dick had cored him out... Brian added a second finger and it slipped in easy... ...how it had filled him with spurt after spurt... ...he drove his fingers in deeper... ...after spurt of cum... ...the wetness... ...the wetness... ...the squishy-squishy-squishy-squishy-wetnessss... Brian's dick errupted without him touching it. He cried out in ecstasy as he felt bolt upon bolt of pleasure fire through his hole and up out through his dick, spurting copious ropes of fresh cum onto the side of the shack. Shit. Shit! He flopped back onto the grass, catching his breath. Christ, that was better. His hole no longer hurt and he felt so much calmer. He surprised himself by licking his fingers clean before he'd even realised he was doing it. He didn't even bother to wipe his dick dry, just shoved it back in his shorts and let it stain them for anyone to see... As he lay there, he idly kneaded his crotch, feeling sexy and liberated. He stretched like a cat and stared up at the blue Wyoming sky, indulging in happy thoughts about fucking... He wondered again which parts of the dream were real... Now he thought about it, the idea of getting gang-raped was forbidden - so it was kinda hot... Hold it. Wait. Back up. Gang rape. In the dream, Cleetus had been fucking Dad at the picnic area. Fucking - or raping? Dad's face had been red and terrified, with a hand over his mouth... No, before that! That had been what started the whole crazy dream... He'd partially woken, turned round in bed and Dad... He sat up on the grass sharply, his feel-good daze snuffed in an instant. Shit! Dad had been getting gang-raped! It came clear to him now. Shit shit shit! And where the fuck was Dad now? Supposedly off on some errand with two of the wranglers... ...or some such crock of shit. Christ. Brian was suddenly in a panic. He raced back towards the boarding house now, ignoring the renewed itching in his hole, determined to find out what that bastard Cleetus had done to him. He would beat it out of him if he had to, that muthafucker wasn't going to get... He rounded the side of the house and there was Dad, safe and sound, getting out of a filthy old pickup with Eddie and Ralph Bearquiver. He was carrying some kind of engine part. 'Dad!' Brian yelled, his relief making his voice sqeak like a frightened little boy, 'Dad, you're okay...' Rick looked round at him. To Brian's dismay he regarded him coldly. His dad then turned back to the Bearquivers and thanked them for all their help. Instead of shaking hands like he normally would, he hugged each man... intimately... crotch pressing into crotch and almost nuzzling their necks... before crossing over to his own vehicle and leaving the car part on the driver's seat for now. In all of this he behaved as if his son wasn't there. Brian was scared again, but in a very different way. He and Dad had always been the best of buds, barely a cross word ever between them. He trailed after him like a kicked puppy. 'Dad... Dad, are you all right?' His dad continued to ignore him. 'Dad, hey! Is there a problem..?' Rick suddenly swung round on him, a finger in Brian's face. 'Don't push it, Brian,' he warned, his voice trembling with rage. 'But Daaad, what did I..?' 'You just stay away from me today, Brian, you hear me?' For a second Brian thought his dad was going to punch him out. Instead he settled for slamming shut the car door and marching into the house. Brian just watched him go, stunned into silence. It was all he was capable of. It was clear his dad wanted nothing to do with him. And for the life of him he couldn't understand what he had done to offend him so... With all the upset, Brian had totally forgotten about the Bearquivers. Embarrassed by the scene his dad just made, he found it hard to meet their eyes... but he caught a look of sympathy from Eddie as they walked away to return to whatever chores awaited them. Yet it was precisely because Brian lowered his eyes that he noticed that both father and son's zip fasteners were down and the shafts of their hard dicks bulged obscenely, partially visible through the openings and still throbbing in those tight jeans. It were as if they'd had to tuck their junk away in a hurry. Their meat glistened wetly. And now Brian thought back, his dad's chin had looked kinda shiny and wet too... and kinda drippy... ...and what were those streaks across his cheek and forehead..? Unaccountably Brian's dick began to stiffen again... Brian was suddenly angry. Screw Dad! Screw 'im! If he wasn't going to be reasonable.. Well, he had to go into their room to get a bottle of water. He'd keep his distance after, okay, but he wasn't going to die of dehydration in the meanwhile! Armed with this comeback, he marched into their room without knocking... but the words died in his throat... Dad was in the process of changing his shorts. This in itself was not a curveball. It was the fact that he had abandoned his usual boxer briefs in favor of a jockstrap. And what Brian found himself looking at was Dad's very red and puffy asshole. Red, puffy... and glistening wet with some viscous fluid... Brian was instantly hard as a rock... Feet wide apart, Dad slowly... slowly... teasingly... bent down to pick up the fresh shorts from the floor, taking his time and deliberately pushing out his ass at Brian. Giving him a show. Displaying his abused cunt. White cum seeped out of there and ran down his crack. When he spoke, his voice was very different than earlier - seductive and hot. 'Hmmm... I told you to stay away from me, Brian....' ...Brian was staining his shorts anew with fresh cock-juice and he didn't care... ...mesmerised as he was by the weaving and grinding of that perfect, rounded ass which he saw now bore the reddened lines of a beltstrap... ...and the hot red, dripping bullseye at the centre... 'Seen enough? Want to take a picture?' His father's tone was, if anything, sluttier than ever. Brian looked up, completely wrong-footed. 'Sor...sorry... just came for... water...' He knelt down to get a bottle out of his rucksack... 'Don't mutter, Brian, speak up like a man...' Dad turned around suddenly, pulling down the waistband of the jock and there was his ROCK-HARD dick pointing straight at the ceiling, drooling practically in Brian's face - a hot, naked pillar of solid.. solid flesh. '... Or preferably not at all,' Dad finished, his dirty implication pretty obvious. Brian's hole throbbed in sudden need... ...but he supressed it and shook his head. Who was this guy? This strange, erotic creature who had taken his father's form and bore the dried cum stains of other men across his face..? Fear made Brian bold. 'Well, we're gonna hafta speak when we get back in the car later this evening, Dad.' He picked up his bottle of water and headed straight for the door. Dad put his dick away. 'About that. I've decided we should stay here another few days.' Brian spun on his heel. 'Huh?' 'Maybe even a week or more. It'll do us good to get some downtime away from the womenfolk.' Brian could actually feel the hair beginning to rise up on his scalp. 'Dad...' He was lost for words, 'what the fuck?' With no warning Dad swung and gave his son a ringing slap across the face. 'The next profanity out of your mouth, boy, will put you in traction. Just you watch your language around me!' Brian just stood there in shock, unable to believe his senses. The tears that sprang to his eyes had more to do with betrayal than the blow. That did it. Whoever this man was, he was not his father. Rick turned his back on his son, bent over again, took a long forefinger and began to slowly massage the strings of cum into his trench and back into his hole. When he looked around five minutes later, the doorway was empty. Brian had left. Brian was back in the ghost town. He felt sick. Sick and conflicted. This place was the fucking Twilight Zone. Of that he had no doubt. It had done something to Dad - practically from the moment they'd entered the house, he'd been off. And if Brian's worst fears were true, and they had both been gang-raped, then he was taking it better than his father. He'd read about rape survivors, and there was no one way of dealing with it. Dad had experienced something traumatic and this was how it was affecting him. What did therapists call it - disassociation? Something like that. Okay, this was better. Brian was beginning to feel for the first time all day that he was beginning to get a handle on things... except... He couldn't get the sight of his father's body out of his mind all of a sudden. All he could think of - all he could see when he closed his eyes - was his dad's beautiful dick... his perfect ass and that moist, juicy cavity that he just longed to plunge his own throbbing tool into. He'd never thought of himself as gay. And here he was, thinking about his own father. So why did the idea excite him so? And Dad didn't wear jockstraps. Not even to the gym. He didn't OWN a frickin' jock... ...So he had to have borrowed... Oh crap. That did it. Brian suddenly knew, with utter certainty, that Cleetus had lent him one of his old soiled, unwashed jocks... so Dad's junk was currently nestling in the funky germ-ridden hammock of another man's crotch-stink... Brian had to disappear behind one of the crumbling sheds again and have a few harsh words with his dick about that. The next few hours he spent alone and wandering. Around mid-afternoon he lay eyes on Eddie Bearquiver and his father, currying horses in the stables. For some reason, watching the two of them just toiling away made him feel better. Fuck. Eddie was so handsome. He'd never thought of another guy this way before. Apparently his dad thought so too, as when they took a cigarette break, he made a point of kissing his son deeply, sharing smoke with him back and forth. Okay, so that part of the dream was real... It was pretty obvious what they and Dad had been getting up to earlier - whatever had happpened to Dad last night must have awoken something inside of him. And the thought made Brian's dick ache. They really had been down at the gas station - had Cleetus' grampappy taken a turn in his recently virgin hole as well? That made his dick ache even harder. Back at the gas station yesterday, Brian had glimpsed the heavy looking head of the old timer's dick dangling halfway down his thigh from beneath his skimpy shorts, so he knew he was real hung... The guy was old and a bit creepy, but that somehow made it real hot... ...the thought of him claiming his clean-cut dad's ass... stretching out his hole... feeding it and seeding it deep... He hoped he had. He was a bearded old bear and was kinda buff... Brian wondered if his grandson ever got to play with that monster dick... Things were heating up between Eddie and his dad. When Ralph picked his boy up, put him over one shoulder and took him inside, Brian's curiosity got the better of him and he couldn't resist sneaking closer to the stables to spy on them... Inside it was nice and cool. Brian placed himself behind a thick wooden arch to watch. They were both already naked. When Brian saw what they were doing, he just had to release his aching tool for some hand relief... Eddie was licking his way up and down his stallion father's rapidly stiffening horsedick... it was super long and slender and really did resemble the phallus of his spirit animal... The horses around them nickered softly in pleasure at the scent of mansex in the air... Ralph lay his son face down over a saddle horse, his ass upturned, and used a nearby supply of fresh horse cum to lube him up. Eddie's eyes flicked up and he stared directly at Brian in his hiding place - and he gave him a sexy, secretive wink, placing a finger to his lips... Brian's heart jumped - but Eddie wanted him there, watching. And that made Brian beat his meat all the harder. Ralph thrust his dick inside his son. Eddie grunted out long and loud. They both kissed, as father fucked son in long, loving strokes. Brian could tell Ralph was getting close but he pulled out and began fingering his moaning boy instead. Ralph inserted a second teasing finger... then a third... until all of them were pumping in and out of him. Ten minutes later he was fisting his son practically to the elbow, his brawny forearm slicked in rich, creamy horse juices... Eddie had his head thrown back and met his father in another long, moaning makeout session, huffing urgently and grunting into his father's mouth. Ralph growled back at him and punched that fist, twisting and turning it... Eddie's eyes turned up in his head and he let forth a pure, high note of primal lust... 'Ahhhhhhh.... Unghhhhh.... Unghhh.... Yeahhh....' He thrashed his head around, grunting and growling - wincing now and then, but blissing out for the most part as he communed with the fist that was royally fucking him... The stallions around them grew frisky and thirty minutes later the whole stable reeked of sex... Ralph's dick reclaimed its place in Eddie's well-opened cunt. Ralph groaned as he felt himself glide into the reservoir of horse cum and quivering flesh. He bucked and thrust like a wildman, Eddie huffing and gasping beneath until his father finally released his load inside him... This was too much for Brian, who shot his fourth load of the day. Ralph leaned down, still embeded in Eddie, and seemed almost to melt into his son as the two of them moaned an purred in yet another long kiss... Brian decided it was time to fade away and leave them in each other's arms. In spite of missing breakfast and lunch, Brian was aware it was not food he hungered for and had no appetite, so he skipped dinner also. It was just as well as it turned out, because from a distance he noticed his father sitting in amongst everyone at the picnic tables. He was hale and hearty with the guys, just like his old self, one of the gang. The first thing Brian noticed, was that Dad was as shirtless now as the rest of them, his hairy chest and very erect nipples now on public display. He was eating up with gusto, openly stealing food from the other men's plates with an impertinent grin... almost... flirting with them. But there was no question they forgave him. He was the center of attention. And there was Hal Rokeby pressed up close against him on the bench on one side, and his son Robbie perched on Dad's lap! Dad would intimately feed the boy french fries, which the kid would accept with a seductive smile. And wiggle that ass teasingly... ...closing his puffy lips on Dad's pushing fingers with every morsel... Dad's fingers getting progressively wetter and wetter with the kid's drool... while the kid's own father looked on, hungrily licking his lips and squirming erotically as he enjoyed the spectacle...... For the first time now, Brian saw Robbie not as some little slut, but a manly, buff young puppy who knew exactly what he wanted and had the courage to take it. His father was a hot, dirty, dirty daddy who wasn't afraid to claim whatever perverted, taboo pleasures he desired from his own sons' holes. As Brian watched unnoticed from a distance, his father's behaviour began to change from flirtatious bon homie to something else... something more... intense... Oh, Dad was still laughing and joking but it had a darker, quieter edge to it... Robbie raised himself up, shifted his position slightly, and then lowered himself onto Dad's lap more centrally. He gave a small gasp and Dad closed his eyes momentarily, biting his lip... No, thought Brian... he couldn't have... that was insane... he thought his dick would explode... When Dad's eyes opened, they were looking directly into Hal Rokeby's, with an unmistakable quality of conspiracy and erotic heat. They grinned at each other like naughty schoolboys, while Robbie's ass wiggling became slower... more... rythmic... Hal Rokeby didn't break eye-lock with Dad as he took from his plate a long, chunky french-fry. He placed it fully in his mouth and worked it around a little but didn't chew. He brought his mouth closer to Dad's and for one freaky moment Brian thought they were about to kiss... But what happened next was way freakier... Rokeby pushed the fry slowly from his lips, still intact but now soaking in the creep's saliva... and Dad opened his own mouth to receive it. In a couple of seconds it disappeared into Dad's mouth. Dad repeated the process, unquestionably savoring the other man's spit, and then turned his face to Robbie and fed him the fry directly from his mouth... Robbie smirked and took it in. He had himself a good old taste of the two men's thick mouth slime before finally chewing and swallowing. Brian was rock-hard. Painfully - so he had no choice but to unleash his dick into the evening air and jerk it yet again. Rokeby brought his lips to Dad's ear and whispered intimately into it. Whatever suggestions he was making, the effect on Dad was obvious. He began to breathe harder and harder with excitement, at the same time trying not to be too obvious about whatever dirty little game they were playing... And yet he couldn't disguise the fact that Robbie was now bouncing up and down in his lap and beginning to pant... Dad screwed his face up tight as if he were having a coronary, puffing his cheeks out in what could only have been the throes of ejaculation. Robbie frowned furiously and pressed his lips together tight, but Brian could hear his moans from the other side of the grove. Everything stopped. There was a moment of silence. And then all the cow hands and wranglers gave whoops and cheers and high-fived Dad and Robbie. Dad was momentarily mortified. Then he threw back his head and laughed long and hard. Ethan emerged from under the bench, where he had been fellating his brother, swallowing down his cum-load, which he shared with a nearby cowboy in an intense frenching session. Robbie quickly climbed over Dad - Brian now could clearly see the rip in the back of the kid's shorts and his dripping hole - to sit on his own father's lap. But Rokeby was too worked up to bother with pretences. He pushed his son face forward over the picnic table, stood up and punched through his hole in a pent-up fury of powerfucking, to cheering choruses of approval from all their audience.. Robbie cried out at the assault - clearly having a whale of a time - and his father gave a guttural roar as he swiftly orgasmed, injecting his boy hard and deep with his seed. Rokeby immediately pulled out, his dick still spurting the last shots, and ate out his young son's hole. He shared both his own load and Rick's with Robbie in a deep, prolonged make-out, as the whole cook-out descended into a mass orgy all around them. Brian meanwhile, had been working his dick uncontrollably... two last strokes and he coated a couple of willow trees ten feet away... His eyes immediately locked with his father's, as if the distance between them was nothing. Dad watched intently as the last spurts of Brian's semen dribbled down his tool. Then the moment was broken as a tall cowboy pushed Dad down over the table next to the Rokebys, like he was a two-bit whore, and yanked down his shorts. Dad just hunkered down on his elbows in resignation. Brian watched the cowboy breach his father in one long, brutal stroke and began to pound him mercilessly. Dad winced in pain, but nevertheless pushed back while uttering guttural grunts, meeting his rythm so the cowboy could destroy that abused, angry dad hole some more... Even though the savage rutting was already getting Brian hard again, he had never felt so alone in his life...