Dad's Road to True Slavery Ch. 02

Morning came for Jeff Hunter, the usual erection made impossible by the CB6000 firmly fastened to his dick and balls. He recalled last night's session with his young Master and realized how totally controlled his sexuality had become. His torment of feeling that 12-inch dildo deep inside him only spurred on his desire for release of his tormented testicles.

Things were only destined to get worse. His 19 year-old son Jamie was home for the weekend, and currently still sleeping. Jeff crept softly to the bedroom door of his only son, an accomplished athlete and promising law student.

He saw the door was open fully and peeked in to see his son's beautiful naked body, unabashedly exposed. Jamie was proud of his manhood and athletic accomplishments, and although he was an all-around good kid, he loved showing himself off. Even to his dad.

Jeff and Jamie already had "the talk" about a year previously. Jamie knew he had a gay dad, but acknowledged Jeff as an incredible father and equally excellent provider. He had no issues with Jeff's sexuality. In fact, he even encouraged his hard-working dad to get out of the house once in a while and enjoy life, even if that included other men. Jamie asked only one thing of his dad. He wanted to meet the men Jeff was dating to make sure they were on the level....he didn't want his dad hurt by any game players or guys with substance abuse or other issues.

Jeff had kept himself at a healthy distance from his son afterward, but Jamie had no qualms about walking around the house buck naked, showering when he damned well knew Jeff would be in the bathroom, and occasionally discussing the excellent sex he was having with his girlfriend, Stacy. He would recall in great detail to his dad how much she loved sucking his dick and how fulfilled she was when he entered her. Bringing her to orgasm was a piece of cake; Jamie's cunt lapping was legendary on campus. Jamie could spend three to five hours between her legs taking care of business.

Jeff knew his son was looking for approval, but baiting him at the same time. Putting the ideal heterosexual image into his father's head to make him love and appreciate him even more. Jeff began to wonder, "Is my son a tease?" and knew it was true. Jeff only loved the torment of thinking of his son's beautiful and perfect rod, throbbing blue veins popping beneath a beautifully-formed mushroom head. Lately Jeff had been prowling around his son's bedroom, gently sniffing the air and enjoying the pure, sacred scent of his son's potent testosterone.

On this morning Jamie's body was more desirable than ever as Jeff's erection strained uselessly in the CB6000. Tears of both joy and frustration came to him. For a long time he simply stared in awe. As he began his descent downstairs, Jamie opened his eyes. And smiled.

Jeff's submissive kayseri escort need was now affecting his interactions with his son. Jamie was greeted with a huge, home-cooked breakfast when he came downstairs, wearing only a wife beater and jockstrap. He said "Wow, now THIS is service! Are you my dad or my wife?" Jeff understood the full implication of Jamie's off-handed comment. He said "Well, I am determined to learn how to cook, so that you can eat good meals like when your Mom was here. I want this to be a happy home for both of us. And it's healthier for us to eat at home than order takeout."

Jeff seemed defensive. "I wasn't picking on you, Dad. I'm glad you did this for me. I just meant that only Mom or my girlfriend would do this for me. I didn't think I would ever expect something like this from my dad. I wasn't making a mean comment or anything. I don't want to offend you."

Jeff was reassuring, as always, "Jamie, I'm a gay man. We know that. But I'm not offended. Your Mom and I had our differences but she was good to you and I respect her for that. So I try to be a Mom and Dad for you." Jeff continued, stammering slightly, "I...I didn't want you to think I was calling you a woman. Shit, never mind. I'm an asshole. It wasn't funny. I will be careful in the future how I talk to you."

Jeff tossled Jamie's hair. "Don't worry, son. You're the best thing that ever happened to our family."

Jamie put on his football gear for practice. A brainstorm washed over Jeff.

"Son, did you need your laundry done? Could I do any wash for you while you're here this weekend." Jamie looked puzzled, "Dad, you always wanted me to be responsible for my own laundry."

Jeff retorted, "True, but I want to do a good deed. I don't mind. My schedule is free today. He wasn't ready for what happened next.

Jamie removed the jockstrap he was wearing to reveal his 9 inch dick. He handed it to Jeff and said "Well, all my gym gear needs cleaning. My jocks, underwear, socks, and jerseys. Can you deal with that?"

Jeff laughed heartily and said, "Please....Son, I was in the military. I think I can handle a load of wash." At that moment Jeff produced a HUGE duffel bag filled to the brim with the nastiest scented gym gear Jeff had ever seen. "I'm lazy, Dad. I don't do too much laundry. If you're willing to help, I would really appreciate that!"

As Jamie left, Jeff asked if he needed anything from the store. His son, ever pushing the limits said, "Yeah, a case of Yuengling. And make sure it's fucking cold this time. I can drink it when the game is on. Oh, and by the way, the socks are pretty cruddy. You might have to wash those by hand. I'm sure you don't mind. Well, later, bro!"

With that, Jamie was gone and the house was silent once again. For several minutes Jeff looked at the duffel bag filled with evidence of his son's athletic prowess. Inside were not just socks, straps and underwear, but several pairs of Nike football cleats, size 13. He hadn't realized Jamie's feet were so big. A light wave of guilt washed over him. Had he not realized Jamie was a grownup now?

The desire was too overwhelming for Jeff. He reached inside for a pair of his son's sweaty workout socks and brought them to his face. He took a deep appreciative breath of his own son's foot sweat. The instantaneous erection pressed desperate and hard against its tight steel prison, forbidding Jeff the ultimate enjoyment of having a throbbing, veiny hard-on and masturbating to the incredible scent of testosterone and sweat.

He closed his eyes, envisioning his son standing above him, slowly lowering his moist, sweaty toes into his mouth to be cleaned, worshipped, venerated. Jeff knew he needed to worship his son as the perfect example of manhood. He took another deep breath knowing all too well he could do nothing about the raging erection now creating incredible throbbing pain between his legs.

Jeff knew he needed to punish himself for indulging in his fetish. He took yet another long deep breath, and remembered the years in high school and college when the scent of the locker room led him to hours and hours of masturbating; each jock an individual god in Jeff's fetish world. He brought from the bag a second pair, raunchier and nastier than the first.

He imagined himself on all fours like a dog, naked, leashed, and collared in front of his son and his buddies, taking their socks into his mouth, sucking their toes, licking their feet, asses and cocks. Taking young fresh cum from Jamie's tight circle of athlete-buddies, all the while a worthless faggot in chastity listening to their degrading comments. Feeling the occasional crack of a thick leather belt on his queer ass; his own son his disciplinarian and Owner. Begging for hours to cum as their own thick, young healthy athletic loads disappear down his waiting and accommodating throat.

Even better, many, many hours as their personal human footstool, feeling the pressure of their thick feet on his back, ass and head. Blindfolded and listening to his son mocking him, saying, "Hey guys, my Dad's a fucking faggot foot pig. Let's test out his ass to see if it's as good as his mouth."

Feeling his ass being forced to accommodate each power tool pulsating fresh young cum, the source of life, into his waiting queer asshole; his pussy a source of pleasure for hours and hours and hours and hours.

The smallest trace of precum oozed painfully from Jeff's tortured cockhead. Could he receive any more powerful stimuli? This was only the beginning.

Beneath the endless pair of cruddy thick white workout socks, were several pairs of Jamie's moist underwear. Jeff lifted the nastiest pair he could see, to his nostrils and breathed the pure pungent scent of his own son's sweaty crotch. He could only think of taking a steady stream of Jamie's recycled beer directly down his waiting throat. The smell was simply unbelievable.

Jeff had long since removed all his clothes and placed his thick leather slave collar around his neck. He longed for a degrading online session with his hot young Master. He reached for Jamie's most used football cleats, opened them wide and placed his tongue deep inside them, his saliva moistening the insides of his son's shoes, traveling the length of those size 13 Nikes from the heels to the toes, lapping hungrily at the padding that had, no doubt, been absorbing months of his son's pure sweat and stink. Jeff was hooked forever, a foot bitch with an addiction that would never be cured, an addiction that made him whole, completed him as nothing else in life ever could.

His inhibitions were long gone, a true slavepig devoted to total degradation, dehumanized as it should be. He placed painful alligator clamps on his sensitive and aroused nipples, screaming shamelessly with the pain he was inflicting on himself; the price for sniffing his son would be a heavy one.

The 12 inch dildo violated his asshole, filling it to capacity, and causing the expected chain reaction to his dick, as the firm, unforgiving cockhead massaged his prostate without mercy. His torment was exquisite. He screamed out "I'm a FUCKING FAGGOT! Today, tomorrow, and forever to be used and abused by REAL men. This pussy is not mine, it is THEIRS."

Jeff spotted a strange stain on one of Jamie's well-used, scented jockstraps. Could it be traces of his semen? Jeff prayed fervently as his tongue now lovingly brushed the surface of Jamie's pungent jockstrap with ultimate love and devotion no father could ever really express. Sure enough, a light taste of semen reached his mouth.

He understood the importance of semen as a source of life. Only real men could create life with semen, faggots could only swallow it in reverence. The taste of his son's semen was as potent and powerful as his young son himself. What Jeff could not know was that for nearly 20 minutes, his only son was watching him from the basement steps, not judgmental but fascinated with the sight before him, of his own Dad lowering himself to the status of a family pet.

Jeff was lost in his need for erotic connection with humanity, with masculinity, with the scent of a real Man. His eyes closed, he cared little that he was exposing himself in the most intense ways. The true pig in him was starting to emerge and he loved it.

Jamie remained unseen, blasting a beautiful thick load of life-affirming sperm all over himself, loving the display in his honor. Under his breath, as he shot his wad, he said, "Fucking jitbag faggot. Pussy. Sniff that shit, you fucking whore! Wish I had a fucking camera."