Date: Thu, 24 Dec 2020 16:00:25 +0000 (UTC)
From: Randolph Adams <shahairyzad@aol.com>
Subject: The Lobsterback 4 (historical, incest)

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Author's Note: This episode may be too much for some readers but I felt it
was important for exploring the characters.  If you're not enjoying it but
want to see how the story turns out, you can skip to the last paragraphs,
after the asterisks, and then move on to Episode 5.  In my mind this is a
character-driven story with explicit scenes more than a story for jerking
off.  I definitely do not approve of all of my characters' actions.  The
fact that I am describing something does not mean that I am advocating it,
and if you don't get that you must think Shakespeare was a really sick
fuck.


THE LOBSTERBACK
Episode 4


Jedediah Polk could not remember the first time his father fucked him, but
he remembered vividly the first time Josiah Polk fucked Ben.

His brother was five years younger than Jed but sturdy and big for his age.
Their mother had been taken by fever when Ben was not yet two, and Jed had
stepped in to raise him Ð their father showing not the slightest
interest in "women's work".

After his wife's death, for maybe a year or two, Josiah Polk suffered
through life without a hole to fuck.  Then he looked at Jed, and he had the
revelation that God had bestowed on his servant a son, and that son had at
least two holes he could fuck.

By the time Jed was ten, he knew just what to do to please his father Ð
and to keep himself from a beating.  He knew how to suck his cock Ð long
and fat and swelling slightly in the middle and stinking of sweat at one
end and cheese at the other.  He knew how to lavish it with his tongue and
suction it with his lips and let his throat relax so the meaty rod could
slide in deep, till the pubic hair scratched his lips.  He found himself
excited by the acrid stench of his father's crotch, and as he willed
himself to relax and fought back his rising gorge, his own cock would
become stiff as can be.  He would rub his cock with one hand and rub the
flesh below his cock with the other as his father fucked his face, palms
pressed against his temples and fingers caging the back of his skull, cock
thrusting into his mouth and far down his throat.

Often that was all Josiah wanted, and after spewing his seed down his son's
throat or spraying it across his face, he would cuff him on the side of the
head and tell him to get out of his sight.  Sometimes though, he would pull
his dripping cock out of his son's mouth and growl "Show it" which meant
that Jed was to take off his breeches Ð if, indeed, he was still wearing
them Ð and kneel on the edge of the bed or on a chair or on the hearth
rug with his ass sticking out and his shoulders lowered Ð "like a bitch
in heat" his father would say.  Jed learned to push out like he was pooping
so that, when his father rammed his cock inside him, it merely hurt like
hell instead of being so painful that he would scream.  Jed was sure he had
screamed the first dozen or so times, but he did not exactly remember doing
so, and by the time he was ten he knew how to manage a fucking.

Since his father might choose to fuck him at any moment, Jed never knew if
pushing out like he was pooping would result in actual pooping, but that
never seemed to bother his father.  He would shove his cock up his son's
hole no matter what was coming out, and after a vigorous fucking and a deep
breeding, he would pull his cock out and shove it in Jed's mouth, no matter
what was coating it.  Jed became accustomed to this too, and the ranker the
stink beneath his nose and the nastier the taste on his tongue as he licked
his father clean, the stiffer his cock would be.  Sometimes Josiah would
turn around and grab his son's head, mashing the boy's face against his
hairy ass crack.  Jed would tongue out his hole, which was usually filthy,
reaching up to spread his father's asscheeks for deeper access, but he
quickly learned not to let his fingers touch his father's hole.  A
fingertip even grazing the area by the hole would get him a more than
usually savage beating.

His father never cared if Ben was there or watching.  When his cock wanted
attention, he would simply grab Jed by the hair and shove him to his knees,
saying "open your mouthcunt", or yank down the boy's breeches and dig his
fingers into his hole, claiming his "asscunt" for his own.  When Ben was
very young, the sight of this would make him cry, and Jed would be consumed
by fear that Josiah would beat his brother.  The older boy would redouble
his efforts at satisfying his father, clutching the backs of his father's
legs as if to pull him deeper inside, willingly impaling his own throat on
his father's fat cock.

Jed eventually realized that Josiah didn't care if his son was crying or
not, so Jed could do what he had to till his father had bred his face or
his ass Ð or maybe both Ð and then go curl up with Ben and rock him
and shush him till he quieted down.  Eventually Ben came to accept such
scenes, and he would just stand in his cradle or sit on the floor,
clutching a spoon perhaps, or his favorite rag, pausing in his play as he
solemnly witnessed all his father did to his brother.

As Ben grew older he would quietly slip away as soon as his father started
in, then reappear when it was over to cuddle with Jed and collect his
comforting.  As he grew even older he would sometimes stay to watch,
perhaps even with a hint of stealthy curiosity.

Jed began to sprout hair in places that had been smooth, and his cock
became larger, but his body remained small.  He felt an odd sort of pride
that he was satisfying his father and protecting his brother, and over the
years he grew accustomed to the arrangement.

Then one Sunday afternoon the arrangement changed.

The boys were playing by the crick Ð it was a warm summer day and they
had stripped for swimming, splashing around in the cool water, laughing and
tickling each other.

Suddenly their father was there, tall and forbidding, standing on the bank
watching them.  The boys stopped and just stood there, naked in the water,
watching Josiah remove his boots, and then his shirt, and then his
breeches.  He waded purposefully into the water, heading straight for Ben,
who stood still, looking confused and wary.  Jed scrambled towards his
father with no clear idea of what to do, and Josiah sent him sprawling onto
the rocks of the crick bed.

Josiah stopped in front of Ben, whose eyes were now very wide as an inkling
of what might be happening took shape in his mind.  "Suck it," Josiah
commanded.  Ben's brows knit, and he looked a bit panicky.  His father
slapped him across the face, grabbed his head between his hands and
growled, "Open your mouth".  Ben's mouth dropped open, and Josiah drove
inside.  He pulled out, slapped again, harder, and said "Open wider, slut.
If your teeth touch my cock I'll beat you black and blue."  Ben's mouth
opened wider, and even as tears ran down his cheeks and snot burbled from
his nose, he kept his jaw dropped and stayed there, crouching in the
stream, taking his first face fucking.

Jed was crying harder than Ben was.  He had retreated to the grassy bank
and was sobbing, his whole body heaving.  Josiah looked over at him, and a
grim smile darkened his face.  He let go of Ben's head and slid his cock
from his mouth.  Ben straightened up, his body sagging with relief, till
Josiah grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the grassy bank.

"Get him ready" was his only command to Jed.

Jed's begged for his father to do him instead, but after a few sharp blows
he put his shaking hands to his brother's ass, smooth and plump and white,
and pulled it open to expose the tiny pink hole, and bent his face down to
lick it.  Ben squealed, and almost giggled.  Jed put a shaking finger to
his lips and wet it and pressed it to his brother's hole.  Ben tightened
up, and Jed pleaded with him to relax, and to push out like he was taking a
poop, and the finger slid in, and soon three of Jed's small fingers were in
his brother's hole.  Ben looked confused, perhaps because it didn't hurt
and perhaps because it felt strange and somehow . . . nice.

Then Josiah Polk lost patience and shoved his older son aside and yanked
his younger son to his feet and spit perfunctorily in his palm and swiped
his palm across his rigid cock and grabbed his son's hips and pushed his
cock against the still-unready hole.  He pushed, and his son Ð of course
Ð clamped his hole shut.  And his father pushed harder, and his rigid
cock popped in.

And Ben screamed.  In pain.  And shock.

And Jed howled.  In an agony of frustration and impotence and shame.

And Josiah crowed.  And drove his big cock deep inside his younger son.

Jed flew at him, assailing him with fists and teeth, but he was still just
a boy only halfway to manhood, and his father was determined to have his
pleasure and to have his way, and nothing the half-boy/half-man could do
would stop him.

In little more than the time it takes to tell, Jed lay on the grassy bank,
bawling his eyes out, and Ben stood in the crick, silent, mouth pressed
shut, water flowing round his ankles and flowing from his tightly clenched
eyes, and Josiah stood with his cock plunging in and out, exultant in his
conquest.

Of course, that was but the first of many fuckings, and as the boys grew,
they both became accustomed to satisfying their father's lust whenever he
demanded.

The boys comforted each other, and perhaps inevitably their comfort took a
sexual form, with Jed giving Ben a kind and comforting fuck after a brutal
one from their father . . . and Ben sliding his growing cock into the hole
that Josiah had opened and left well lubricated.

As they grew to adults the fuckings continued, and the sons forgot their
initial resistance or, at least, suppressed their resentment, and they
almost came to compete for their father's favors Ð while surreptitiously
enjoying each other's favors whenever they could.  But Jed never forgot
what had happened that day by the stream, and he never forgave his father
for it.

They experimented with each other, trying things their father was not
interested in.  Ben found that he liked his hole stretched, and one day
Jed's fingering slid into fisting.  They both turned to the farm's animals
as well, with Jed routinely fucking the ewes and Ben going on all fours for
the dogs.

And their father grew older, and had less urgency for sex, and the boys
focused more and more on each other.

And then Josiah had an apoplectic attack.

With their father half paralyzed and confined to his bed, the boys Ð now
young men Ð had free rein to do as they liked.  Jed took to dragging his
brother into his father's bedroom and fucking him there, in front of
Josiah.  He brought in Rufus and had the hound fuck Ben before his father's
eyes.

And finally Jed took his revenge, yanking back the quilts that covered his
father, forcing his withered legs up towards his chest, fingering the hole
that must not be touched, probing it with a finger and then fingers, and
finally, pressing his cockhead against the forbidden place, dominating his
domineering father, thrusting his throbbing cock into the asshole of the
asshole who made him.  Ben had followed his example but never seemed to
take the same pleasure in it that Jed did.

Jed suspected that Josiah had, in some strange way, come to enjoy the
sensation of being taken Ð a truly new sexual experience even as he
faced death Ð but Jed did all he could to make it as painful and
humiliating for his father as his own introduction to sex had been.

In the end, their father had died.  And whether he died with his sons'
semen in his gut we cannot say.

* * * * *

All of this history Ð all of this long, painful history of fathers
fucking sons, and brothers needing protection Ð all of it came rushing
back to Jed when he walked in on Ben, in their barn, with little Johnny
Franklyn bent over a haybale, bare-assed, spittle dripping from his hole,
tears streaming from his eyes, about to be penetrated for the first time in
his much-too-young life.

Jed backhanded his brother across the cheek and sent him sprawling.

"What is wrong with you!  Are you fucking DAFT?  He's too YOUNG!  You DON'T
FUCK A NEIGHBOR! Ð WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!"

Ben lay sprawled on the dirt, his face furious, his body tensed as if
poised to strike.  But however mutinous he was feeling, he did not rear up
or challenge his brother.

Jed turned to the half-clothed neighbor boy shaking on the haybale and
snarled, "GIT!".

Once Johnny had run for home as fast as his shaking legs could carry him,
Jed leaned back on a haybale, arms crossed, and regarded his brother more
coolly.

"What is fucking wrong with you?  We have to LIVE with these people."

Ben was silent, but his expression shouted his resentment.  Jed shifted to
a tone that was more accommodating, almost cajoling,

"I don't mind you having fun, but he's just a kid."

The sullen silence continued, and Jed's voice became softer and close to
pleading,

"Let me take care of you."

Ben looked up, and his body seemed to sag, resentment dissolving into
disappointment.  He looked smaller and, somehow, almost forlorn, despite
his thick black beard and muscular bulk.

Jed regarded him further, his face softening, and at last he smiled at his
baby brother, a warm, loving smile, and he leaned his elbows back on the
haybale. Deliberately, he spread his legs, looked Ben square in the eye,
and said,

"Suck my cock."