The Bastard

The Temptation of a Rope

The cold surrounding Brad wasn't only from the garage that was his current residence in his father's home. The real cold was inside. It was the kind of cold that never went away, even when he jacked the tiny space heater up all the way. This cold was the kind that came from a soul-crushing misery, and it was one that he could never seem to escape.

Of course, there were avenues for escape. One of those avenues simply took the will to leave, but he never managed it. The other avenue was provided by his father, Stan. That one was more permanent, and he didn't have the courage to take it, either.

Not that he hadn't thought about it. He considered it frequently, in fact. There were all kinds of ways to do it. One of them hung from a rafter next to the swaying single light, a well-knotted noose. His father had tied it so expertly that Brad knew he'd been thinking of it for some time. Maybe even practicing.

Another way was the bottle of sleeping pills, which Stan had placed next to the shitty cot Brad slept in. Beside the pills was a bottle of whiskey, untouched. The whiskey might warm him a bit, but something about the misery his father inflicted on him daily made him avoid drinking. It was like he enjoyed the misery to some extent.

The third escape route was the car parked in the garage. It was an old thing, useless to drive as it had no brakes, no seats, and no steering wheel. But it ran. And the keys were in the ignition. Stan put them there.

"When I go," he'd said, "I hope it's as easy as turning a key and sitting back. If you wanna try it, be my guest. Probably be better than living with a baby dick while your old man stuffs your girl's cunt. Anyway, don't want to keep the slut waiting. Oh, and if you do go through with it, have the fucking decency to wrap yourself in plastic or something. I don't need your shit stinking up wherever it is you decide to off yourself."

Laying on the cot, in the cold of the garage, with the deep freeze of defeat weighing him down, Brad's eyes were trained on the battered TV that sat atop the car. His tormenter, the man that should have been the one to shepherd him through life, to teach him what it meant to be a man, was on the TV. In a way, he was teaching Brad what it meant to be a man. At least, by his warped definition of a man.

"A real man's got a fucking cock that's good for hammering a wet cunt," Stan would say. "You? Well, the day a wet cunt can even feel your little pecker in it is the day I stop pumping my dick into that faggy asshole of yours."

But it wasn't Brad that Stan was fucking tonight. No. Stan had pussy to fuck. Stan always had pussy to fuck. He didn't need to push his substantial girth into Brad's butt. That was just a further humiliation, an additional misery. Tonight, Stan's massive prick was buried in Kelsey. And Kelsey was supposed to be Brad's girlfriend.

Technically, she was. But Brad had never been allowed to fuck her. That privilege belonged to Stan, too. And Stan took full advantage of the privilege his oversized prick granted him. He took advantage of it with every girl that Brad brought home.

If he were smarter, he supposed, he'd stop bringing them home. But that was the undeniable, awful thing about it. It was the same confusing mash of feelings that prevented Brad from using any of his methods of escape. Something in him got off on the misery Stan inflicted. He cried about it, hated Stan for it, and despised the conditions he lived in.

Yet, he stayed. And he brought girls home so that Stan could steal them, fuck them, and then discard them. That was just part of the relationship he had with his father. Stan thrived on his misery, while Brad was something of an addict to it himself.

On the TV, which Stan had wired up to the cameras in his bedroom, Brad's latest girlfriend fucked herself silly on Stan's massive rod. Her dark hair whipped back and forth as she rode his cock, bouncing her big round ass on him like he was the best ride in town. Brad supposed he was because his dad basically fucked pussy at will.

Kelsey's pussy was no exception. Cary hadn't been either. Neither had Kali. No doubt, the next girl Brad managed to catch would be the same. As he watched his girlfriend lose her mind, and her body convulse with yet another powerful orgasm, Brad rubbed the bulge of his little, locked-up dick and watched.

In the autumn cold of the garage, surrounded by exits that he'd never use, Brad stroked his caged dick. Kelsey shook and moaned. Stan looked into one of the cameras. And he smiled.

***

Cary

Living with a cock of a father was never a picnic. It became less so after the death of Brad's mother. The downward spiral into a complete shitshow, however, began during Brad's 18th birthday party.

The fact that Stan allowed him to have a birthday party should have been the first giveaway that the day was going to end horribly. That Stan wanted his son to have a birthday party should have told Brad all he needed to know. However, a birthday party was something Brad hadn't had in years, and he was overcome with the chance of it happening. It was a mistake.

"Only fucking girls and queers need birthday parties," Stan had said when Brad was thirteen. "Actual men don't give a shit about birthday parties. The only parties they care about are the ones that feature strippers with big asses. Do you know any strippers with big asses?"

At thirteen, Brad did not know any strippers, let along any with big asses. At eighteen, he still didn't know any strippers. But Stan's opinion on this birthday was markedly different to the previous years.

"Who do you want to invite for your birthday?" he'd asked.

It was an uncharacteristic display of fatherly concern. At least, that was Brad's reaction. Normal questions from his father centered on why Brad hadn't completed some chore, or when he was going to "grow some fucking nuts."

"Birthday?" Brad asked.

"Eighteen. You're finally going to become a man," Stan said as he leaned back against the kitchen island and tossed back his fifth beer of the day. "At least, age-wise. We'll see if that's the actual result."

"I guess a few friends?" Brad said. "And there's this girl…"

"A girl? How the fuck did you land a girl? She blind or retarded? Don't fuck a retarded girl. They can't consent, you dumb shit."

"She isn't… handicapped. You can't say retarded anymore, Dad!"

Stan took a long swallow and waved his hand dismissively. "I'll say what I want. Don't bring that PC liberal bullshit in here. I'll stuff your head in the toilet and wash that nonsense right out of you, kid."

"She isn't blind either. She's nice," Brad mumbled.

"Sympathy fuck, then. Figures. Well, get it any way you can, I guess. Maybe she'll jerk you off before she realizes what a loser you are."

Brad blushed and looked at the table. Just another morning.

"I don't need a party," Brad said.

"Course you do," Stan argued. "There are some things worth celebrating, and your goddamned manhood is one of them. You're having that fucking party. You'll have it here, and you invite that blind girl over. She should have the chance to nope the fuck out as soon as possible."

Brad sighed and grumbled, "I need to leave for school."

He stood up from the table and started for the door, then flinched as the empty beer can struck him in the back of the head.

"Hey!"

Stan chuckled and said, "Take the trash out on your way. And stop and grab a case of beer on your way home."

"I'm not even eighteen yet," Brad grumbled as he rubbed his head.

"Then suck some cock for it or something. Pretty sure that's the way you're headed after this girl sees your dick and laughs at you."

"Asshole," Brad mumbled as he pulled the trash out of the can.

Stan only grinned and cracked another beer.

***

Brad's circle of friends was a small one. He was likable enough, but shy and reserved. He honestly couldn't say what had come over him when he'd asked Cary out in the first place. When she'd smiled and agreed, it was like the sun shining through the clouds.

Since then, he'd snuck around with her on short outings, lying to Stan about working a few extra hours at his part-time grocery job. It gave him more excuses to be away from his father, legitimate ones that Stan wouldn't question. It meant staying up later to finish homework and Stan's chores, but every time he saw Cary, it was worth it.

Having both his small group of friends, and Cary at his home, had been worrying Brad for days, though. That Stan had some ulterior motive for having a birthday party, Brad had no doubt. What that motive could be, though, he couldn't work out. Was his father actually being honest about celebrating his coming of age?

With his friends and his girlfriend having accepted the invitation, Brad was sweating with nervous energy as the day of the party approached. On the declared day, Stan sent him out to pick up his cake. Brad's suspicions deepened at that. Not only a birthday party, but a cake?

When he arrived back at home, his friends were already there. So was Cary. And Cary was laughing at some stupid joke as she sat on the couch with Stan.

When Brad came through the door with the cake in a box, Stan's true intentions began becoming clear. He saw it in the eyes of his friends, who nodded sullenly and looked away. Above the kitchen entryway, where Brad started with the cake, hung a celebratory banner.

"You're gay and that's okay!" read the banner.

On either side of the door, Stan had stuck thick rubber dicks on suction cups to the walls. Brad shook his head, enraged, and slammed the boxed cake down on the counter. He stormed back toward the living room, where Stan sat with Cary on the couch.

His arm rested on the back of the couch and he casually toyed with a lock of Cary's multi-colored hair. When she saw Brad approach, flushed and upset, she giggled into her hand and shifted her eyes to Stan.

"Um, hey," Brad said as Stan raised his eyebrows in challenge.

"Hey," Cary said and smoothed down her skirt as she stood to give him a hug.

She put a brief kiss on his cheek, too, and continued, "It's a little mean, I know, but it is kind of funny."

"Hilarious," Stan agreed and drank.

"I'm not, you know…" Brad blurted.

Cary laughed and said, "I know. Your dad told me he likes to play pranks on you sometimes."

"I showed her that box of big butt porn you keep under your bed, too," Stan said helpfully. "Pretty sure a fag wouldn't be beating his pud to that."

Brad made a strangled noise and Cary laughed again, reaching out to slap his shoulder playfully.

"He did not show me your porn stash," she said and rolled her eyes. "And don't use that word, Stan. You know I don't like it."

"He does?" Brad asked.

"Your dad's great. He's been super sweet," Cary said.

"Gotta hand it to you, kid," Stan said and raised his beer. "Half Irish, half Indi—Native American. Cute hair." He made a show of peering around at Cary's round ass, and added, "She's got it going on all around."

Cary blushed and said, "Stop it! You're too much, seriously."

"I like the accent, too," Stan said as he blatantly eye-fucked her.

Brad took Cary's hand and said, "Do you want to go say hi to the guys?"

Cary squeezed it, looked at Stan and said, "Actually, your dad and I were having a nice talk. Can you give me a minute?"

"Oh, don't let the old man keep you," Stan said and waved them off. "You just come back and find me later, sweetie. I'm not done with you yet. Go enjoy Brad's coming out party."

Cary giggled and slid her arm through Brad's, saying, "He's so funny!"

"A real clown," Brad grumbled and glared at his father.

Stan shrugged and took another beer from a nearby cooler. Brad led Cary around the room, where the four friends he'd invited spoke in hushed tones, avoiding eye contact with Stan. They brightened a bit at a few words from Cary, but it was clear that her attention wasn't on the "party." Her eyes kept returning to Stan.

It wasn't long before Stan stood and cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. He managed to look proud, almost fatherly, as he straightened his shoulders and set his beer aside.

"Thanks all for coming out," he said with a little smirk. "There are few times in a father's life when he gets to usher his son into a new stage of manhood, and today's one of those days for me. I'm what you'd call a bit of a joker, I suppose. But jokes aside, my kid's a legal adult today and that's something to be proud of. Why don't we head into the kitchen and get those gifts unwrapped?"

"Gifts?" Brad said, somehow genuinely touched, even though he knew that no compliment from Stan was ever genuine.

Stan waved, and the small group followed. They dipped under the banner, laughed at the dicks stuck on the walls, and gathered around the table. Stan retrieved the cake box from the counter and set it on the table. A little pile of presents was stacked nearby.

"Gifts and then I'll cut this cake," Stan said.

Brad took the first present, this one from Mike.

"Thanks, man," he said, and Mike nodded.

He unwrapped the paper to find a gift card. The next gift, from Brian, held a box of calipers, slide rules, and scales.

"For when you go after that engineering degree," Brian said.

"Thanks."

Two more gift cards brought him to Cary's gift. He unwrapped it to find a set of decorative rings, one in turquoise and the other with an opal.

"They're really pretty," Brad said.

Sherri beamed. She took the opal ring and put it on his finger and the turquoise on her own. Brad blushed and turned his attention to the final gift. From Stan. That made him wary. Other than the necessities for survival, Stan wasn't one for giving gifts. If Brad wanted things, he bought them himself using his meager paychecks. The only reason he owned a car was because he'd inherited it from his mother.

Brad unwrapped the gift, then the small pink box it came in. He pulled off the lid, blushed and put the lid back on.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"What is it, Brad?" Stan asked, grinning.

"Nothing."

Cary pulled the box out of his hand and said, "You have to show us what your dad got you."

"Don't—" Brad said, but it was too late.

Cary opened the box, giggled, and pulled out a pink vibrating butt plug. Brad's friends laughed at Stan's "joke." Cary laughed and waved it in Brad's face. Stan did not laugh, but he did smile.

"Oh, come on, babe," Cary said. "It is kind of funny."

"Yeah, funny," Brad mumbled.

"Let's have that cake," Stan declared and lifted the lid.

Brad's heart fell. The cake was white with pink frosting, topped with a little ballerina figurine in a tutu. In rainbow frosting, it read, "We're here, even though you're queer!"

More laughter followed as Brad's friend snapped photos of the cake, along with his stunned face. Stan plopped a birthday hat on Brad's head and snapped the string under his chin.

"And now the most important tradition," Stan declared. "Birthday spankings!"

"What?" Brad squeaked.

Before anyone could react, Stan tugged Brad's pants down to his knees. Cary and his friends gasped in horrified disbelief as Stan shoved his son's face into the cake. His hand came down on Brad's naked ass, sending a resounding crack across the otherwise silent kitchen.

Brad screeched into the cake, then again as Stan put a second hard spanking on his other cheek. The initial shock passed and by the third hard smack, Brad's friends were filming his humiliation. Cary held her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with incredulity. On the sixth hard spanking, with Stan holding his son by the back of the neck as Brad flailed his arms, Cary moaned out loud.

Brad's friends were too focused on the unbelievable sight in front of them to notice. Stan noticed, though. He looked her way, grinned, and gave her a little wink. Two of the party guests quietly slipped out the door by the twelfth spanking.

Before Stan reached Brad's painful eighteenth spanking, only Mike and Cary remained. When he'd finished introducing Brad to this tradition, Stan jerked his son's head up from the cake. Tears coursed down Brad's cheeks, streaking the frosting plastered to his face in a rainbow smear. He sniffled and wiped at the mashed cake and frosting with one hand, while the other clung to his stinging, red ass.

"Expected you to kind of fight back, seeing as you're a man now," Stan said as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He shrugged and added, "One more fucking disappointment, I guess."

He rounded the table and put his arm around Cary's shoulder. She blinked and blushed.

"Why don't we go finish that chat, sweetie?" he said. "Brad's gonna need to get cleaned up."

Cary shut her mouth, slowly nodded her head, and let Stan lead her from the room. Mike, the only remaining guest, numbly handed Brad a napkin.

"Dude, your… um… your dick is showing," he said.

Brad burst into sobs.

"I'm just… gonna go," Mike said and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Utterly humiliated, Brad yanked up his pants and went to the sink. He'd need an entire shower to get all the cake mess off him. He did the best he could, then stalked to the living room, where Cary was seated once more with Stan.

"Go shower up," Stan ordered.

His tone, that commanding, "I will beat your ass bloody" tone, sent Brad darting up the stairs to the shower. The last thing he heard as he took the steps up was Cary's little laugh and the words, "Oh my God, Stan!"

***

Having lived his entire life around a man who was a complete ass, who delighted in belittling and degrading him at every opportunity, Brad felt nothing could actually surprise him anymore. The cake incident and the spanking had proven him terribly wrong. It was, however, the sounds from Stan's room down the hall that ultimately proved his father to be a special kind of bastard.

Stan's door was open and there were noises from within. One was his father's voice, a low groaning, followed by the words, "That's it, sweetie."

Brad's stomach lurched. Was this actually fucking happening? He took a step toward the door. Another. Stan's groaning became louder.

Brad reached the door. The sounds of wet slurping and sucking confirmed his fears, but it wasn't enough. No. It wasn't enough to know that his girlfriend was in his father's room, and she was sucking his dick. No. He had to see it. He had to witness the heartbreaking sight in order to prove to himself that it was real.

He poked his head around the corner. How he managed not to vomit he'd never know. On her knees, kneeling before Stan, was Cary. Her big ass was to the door, and her hands were on his knees. Her hair shifted as she bobbed her head up and down. It took her some time to accomplish the movement.

When Stan spotted him and said, "Hey, Brad," Cary looked up.

Her face was clouded by guilt and a string of drool clung to her lower lip. Brad understood, now, why Cary seemed to take so long to come up from her task. His father's dick was huge. It was thick, and it was long, ridiculously so. It couldn't be real.

"Brad—" Cary said.

Stan put his hand on her head and guided her back to his cock. Obediently, she returned to sucking him.

"Why don't you wait outside, son," Stan said. "I'll be busy with her for a while."

Brad simply stood in the doorway, paralyzed, unable to process that his girlfriend was sucking his father's cock. He'd been gone for less than twenty minutes. How the fuck had this happened?

"Suit yourself," Stan said.

He shrugged and leaned forward to whisper in Cary's ear. She pulled her mouth from his cock once more, cast a somewhat apologetic glance over her shoulder at Brad, and nodded her head. Stan took her hand and Cary wobbled to her feet.

She crawled onto the bed next to Stan. Brad watched her bare pussy under her skirt, shiny and wet with arousal. This wasn't happening. It had to be a dream.

Cary lay on her back, and Stan spread her legs. He placed the head of his massive prick at her entrance and Cary gasped loudly as he pressed it into her cunt. The fat crown of his dick spread her lips around it, remaking her pussy to accommodate its girth.

Cary's body shuddered, and she squealed as the ridge of Stan's cock vanished inside of her. His father held his girlfriend's trembling legs apart in his meaty hands, seemingly spreading Cary wider so that Brad could watch. His thick length seemed to take far too long to gradually disappear into Cary's pussy. With each measured inch of Stan's thick cock, Cary shuddered and groaned, kicking her legs and giving excited little squeaks.

"That's my little slut," Stan whispered, just loud enough for Brad to hear. "You're lovin' that big dick now, aren't you?"

"Yeah…" Cary hissed.

"Lots better than that little willy over there, isn't it?"

"We haven't done it," Cary said, and when she giggled over the fact, Brad's stomach lurched.

He put his hand to his mouth and swallowed a rise of bile. Stan let out a throaty chuckle and said, "Not surprised. Don't suppose you ever will now."

"Fuck no," Cary said, and Stan pulled half his cock out of her and sank it back in.

The heat in his face was making Brad dizzy as he watched his father draw back his hips. His fat shaft, wet and shiny with Cary's honey, slid from her cunt with a sickening wetness before it plunged back in. Stan's ass rose and fell as he built a rhythm, driving his prick into Brad's girlfriend with enough force to make her gasp out her obvious pleasure each time.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered. "Fuck me!"

Even hearing those brutal, heart-rending words, Brad still couldn't help but think how cute they sounded in that sweet accent. He couldn't ignore the sexy way his girlfriend's legs kicked with each spasm of pleasure from Stan's cock. Her breathy gasps of pleasure as his father drove his prick into her, over and over, made Brad's dick harden even tears welled in his eyes.

How long he stood there, watching the scene like some kind of perverted statue, Brad couldn't say. It was a horror that he couldn't turn away from, like his body refused to allow him to leave until he'd witnessed the entirety of it. Stan had been that way, on the day of the attack on the twin towers in New York, glued to the horrible sight on the TV.

While this was no turning point for a country, it was a turning point in Brad's life, and in his sexual development. On the very day that he'd hoped to finally lose his virginity, with a girl that he cared for and had been crushing on for months, Stan had taken it away. He'd snatched that excitement away on the day that Brad had been supposed to become a man in every sense.

Instead, he stood outside and watched from the doorway, his blood boiling, his dick hard, and his shame sickening. He stood outside the door and watched as Cary took his father's tremendous prick, first with her legs around him, then on top of him. She tossed her hair back, the two of them completely ignoring the fact that Brad was watching, and she bounced her gorgeous ass up and down on Stan's fat shaft.

His father squeezed and tugged on Cary's small tits, held her hips as he drove his cock into her, and demeaned her every few seconds. The filthy words, the dirty names, only made her body twitch with passion and pleasure. Whether Stan called her those names just to add to Brad's misery, or if he truly believed them, Brad couldn't know. The effect they had on Cary, though, was evident. She loved it.

"Ride Daddy's cock, you little slut…"

"Gonna be balls deep in your wet teenage cunt every day from now on…"

"Tell me it's my pussy, you fucking whore…"

And she did. Cary responded to the degrading, objectifying nonsense like Stan owned her.

"It's your pussy, Daddy…"

"I'm your whore…"

"It's so fucking big…"

"I'll never let your son have this pussy…"

When Stan finished with her, Cary was a glistening, sweaty mess. Her tangled hair had been in his fist like a handhold, as he jerked her head back and pounded her sopping fuckhole from behind. When Stan was ready to blow, however, he yanked his cock out of her and practically tossed her onto her back.

Brad's father mounted her chest, pushing his dick into her face. He fisted his hard-on as Cary watched it with glazed, fuck-crazed eyes, and she begged for it. She fucking begged for it.

"Please! Cum on me, Daddy. Cover my face!"

Stan laughed and plastered her face in his load, blasting a hot shot of goo across her lips and into one nostril. A second hard shot caught her across the eye and coated her hair. Stan's huge prick dispensed an unbelievable load, pasting Cary in a thick sheen of cock cream that had her giggling and rubbing her cunt. When his father slapped his dick across her face in a final fuck you gesture, Brad's girlfriend was coated in a wash of cum so thick that she was hardly recognizable.

"Holy fuck," she whispered as she fingered ropes of jizz into her mouth. "There's so much."

"Brad!" Stan bellowed and Brad jumped in the doorway.

"Go fix some dinner. You've been standing there like a fucking dunce for so long you're starting to blend into the wall. Do something useful."

Stunned, Brad only managed to say, "I don't have any money on me."

"You got gift cards for that pizza place, right? I like pizza." and then he fingered cum into Cary's mouth and asked, "You like pizza?"

"Uh, huh."

"Pizza for two," Stan ordered. "We'll be down after I clean your girl up in the shower."

Brad's body began to move, but his mind was numb. Like a robot, he placed a pizza order for delivery, paid for it with his birthday gift cards, and sat on the couch to wait. Upstairs, he could hear the sound of the water rushing through the pipes to Stan's shower.

Sometime before the pizza arrived, the sound of the water was joined by another sound. It was a sound that brought a fresh flush of humiliation to Brad's cheeks, a small tent to his shorts, and a sob from his throat.

Thump… thump… thump…

It was the sound of Stan fucking Cary against the shower wall.

***

The New Room

For the remainder of Brad's senior year, life didn't improve. Following the humiliating birthday, only Mike would speak with him. The videos his other so-called friends had made turned up online, making him a laughing stock. Cary, too, didn't make the situation any better, bragging to her friends that she'd had the best fuck of her life with Brad's father. Within days, the entire school was aware that his girlfriend had surrendered her pussy to his father.

Even when he left school, Brad couldn't escape it. His only real solace was at work, which he tried to spend as much time at as possible. When he came home, though, it was usually to the sight or sound of his father fucking Cary. He fucked her in the living room, in the kitchen, or on Brad's bed. More often than was reasonable, Brad would lay his head down after a long, tiring day, only to find his cheek wet from Stan's sperm on his pillow.

In the immediate wake of the birthday fuck, after showing a thoroughly-fucked Cary out the door, Brad rounded on his father.

"Why would you do that?" he cried, the repressed emotion bubbling over. "You're such a fucking asshole! I hate you!"

He balled his fists and cried, but Stan grinned, shrugged, and said, "You're gonna throw a fit over some pussy? Go boo-fucking-hoo to some candy-ass therapist about it. If it's really so bad, just off yourself and get it over with. Hate me all you want, kid. You're an adult now. You make your choice and live with it. Stay here and you got a roof over your head. Out there, you're on your own. I'm doing me, and I could give a fuck if it makes you happy or not."

Then Stan twisted off a beer cap, flicked it at Brad's head and sat on the couch with his dick out to watch TV. Brad's fists went limp, and he shuffled away to his room. From the couch came a chuckle and the words, "That's what I thought. Pussy."

It was the first time Brad could remember Stan suggesting that Brad off himself. It wouldn't be the last. In fact, this particular line of encouragement seemed to only become more of a fetish for Stan as time went on. A week after the party, Brad came home one evening to find Cary taking Stan's cock up her ass on the living room couch. When he slunk past them to his room and shut the door, he found a wrapped gift on the bed. It had a note from Stan taped to the front.

"Since you had a shitty birthday, thought this might help," it read.

Brad pulled the paper off, perplexed, and then threw the gift in the trash. It was a black book with the title, "The Suicide Handbook: Crafting Your Final Solution."

***

Only two days after the gift incident, Brad came home from work to find Cary sucking Stan's cock in the living room. Stan had his hand in her pretty hair and was jamming it down on his thick shaft, essentially using her head to masturbate. Cary drooled and choked on his meat, but she was an eager cocksucker, more than willing to endure whatever demeaning treatment Stan heaped on her, in order to keep getting that oh-so-satisfying fuck.

Brad attempted to ignore it, to sneak past, but Stan wasn't having it tonight.

"Get in here, Kid!" his father called.

Brad sighed and slunk into the living room, trying but failing to avert his eyes from the sight of his one-time girlfriend getting her head fucked only feet away.

"What?"

"You missed yer fuckin' chores," Stan slurred.

He'd been drinking heavily. It was in his eyes, on his breath, and in his speech.

"I was at work," Brad argued.

Stan pulled Cary's mouth off his cock, leaving a slimy trail from his fat knob to her lips. Her eyes were glazed with the familiar cock-lust Brad was used to seeing in them now. His father staggered to his feet and snatched Brad by the arm.

"Hey!" Brad shouted.

"You're a fucking brat," Stan growled. "If you want to keep on living rent-free around here, you need to take on some responsibility. Problem's mine. I haven't taught you fuckin' discipline."

He pulled Brad across his lap, putting a hard hand on the back of his neck and pushing his face into the couch cushion. Brad shrieked and flailed his arms, but Stan simply yanked down his pants and spanked his bare ass so hard that it drove the breath out of his lungs.

"Need to set you straight, you little faggot," Stan growled. "Keeping the house is your job! I pay the damn bills and the only thing you ever did was brought me this slut."

He put another brutal slap on Brad's ass and to his horror, he heard Cary moan out loud. Stan laughed and said, "Ha! You like that darlin'?"

"Yeah," Cary whispered, excitement clear in her voice.

Stan smacked Brad's ass again, and he hollered into the couch cushion.

"You start missing chores and I'm gonna beat your ass every night until you don't. Hell, I might just beat your ass anyway if it makes that little slut of yours wet. What do you think, baby?"

"Oh, God!" Cary groaned and rubbed her naked cunt.

"That's right, girl," Stan said and slapped Brad's ass again. "You sit back and rub your twat to it. Ain't nothing like watching a sissy get beat to get a girl's cunny hot."

Through the haze of pain and tears, Brad could hear the sloppy sound of Cary finger-fucking her pussy to the sight of Stan spanking him hard enough to make him cry.

"Come over here and turn that bottom toward me, sweetie," Stan commanded as he neared Brad's 13th spanking.

By now, Brad's ass was bright red and tears streamed down his face to coat the couch cushion. At Stan's order, Cary immediately stopped going at her cunt and did as instructed, presenting Stan her ass.

"That's what we need," Stan said, and for just a moment, his blows let up.

Then Brad shrieked and Stan roared with laughter as he removed the butt plug he'd put into Cary's ass from her rear end, and jammed it into Brad's.

"Just like a little queer to keep his butt ready for a good fucking from Daddy," Stan said and delivered another blow.

"Oh, God!" Cary moaned. "Are you really going to fuck him?"

Stan hit Brad's ass again, and the plug jiggled. "Not tonight. Maybe not ever. But it's a possibility. Can't have a bitch living in the house and not getting fucked, right?"

"Can I… can I watch, sometime?" Cary asked, almost reverently.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Stan said. "Why do it otherwise?"

After the 18th blow to Brad's ass, Stan shoved him off his lap onto the floor. Cary resumed her position, throated Stan's cock with abandon now, clearly ridiculously hot over watching her former boyfriend's abuse and humiliation.

"Now get about those chores," Stan ordered. "Or instead of a plug in your ass, it'll be a cage on your dick."

Brad, sweating and blubbering, crawled away with his ass stinging.

***

A week before his graduation, which he'd somehow managed to obtain, Brad was in for a shocking new change in his life. Stan hadn't followed through on his threat to butt-fuck him, but it was a fear Brad lived with daily. His father had, however, beaten his ass red on several nights in front of Cary. Cary always masturbated her twat while it happened, and sometimes asked Stan for it when Brad might have otherwise slipped past.

The next change came when, once more, Brad returned home from working at the grocery store to find two blatant changes. First, his father was not fucking Cary anywhere within immediate notice. Second, when Brad went to his bedroom, he found it had been emptied.

His first thought was that this was it. Stan was kicking him out. He'd be homeless right before graduation, sleeping in his car. A wave of mixed feelings accompanied the thought.

Relief? Yes. No more Stan. Fear? Of course. He'd be homeless, trying to live off a meager part-time, minimum wage job. Regret? That, too. And that was one of the most confusing parts of it all. He wouldn't get to watch Stan fuck Cary anymore, and losing that was almost more terrible than the thought of living in a car.

How did that even make sense? Stan was nothing but abusive and cruel. But, somehow, in the weeks since he'd stolen Cary and turned into even more of a bastard than before. Something else had happened. Brad had been jerking off to the sound of Cary's moans, cries, and her descent into complete sexual servitude to Stan's cock. In fact, most nights he was getting off to the two of them fucking. It had become, simultaneously, the high point and low point of each day. How did such a thing happen?

A hand fell on his shoulder. Brad started and whirled around. Stan's fist connected with his guy, driving the wind out of him and sending him to his knees. He looked up through hazy eyes at his towering father.

"When you're ready to get off your knees like some kind of dick sucker, come out to the garage," Stan said.

Behind him stood Cary, grinning as she rubbed her cunt under her skirt. She followed behind. Brad huffed in air and staggered back to his feet. When he made it to the garage, everything seemed to be just as it normally was. Except there was now a small fold-out cot on one side. Next to the cot was a wooden stool with a cracked seat, atop which sat an old alarm clock.

"What is this?" Brad asked.

"Your new room," Stan explained. "Cary's idea, really, but a damn fine one."

"Room?" Brad asked. "It's the garage!"

"And it's bedtime," Stan said. "You got chores in the morning, and I want you up bright and early. Cary'll have a list for you on the fridge."

"But—"

"And Cary's moving in, so she's kind of like your new mom. Make sure you listen to her, or there's gonna be trouble,"

Brad opened his mouth to argue once more, but whatever protest he was about to vomit out died on his lips when he saw another new addition to the garage. Hanging above the bed, from one of the rafters, was a noose. Stan and Cary's eyes followed his gaze to it.

"That's for when you finally have enough," Stan explained. "But if you take that route, I'm gonna kick the fuck out of your lifeless body before I hand it over to the state to cremate. If you pick a way that doesn't involve you shitting everywhere when you die, I'll be generous enough to get you a coffee can for your ashes."

"Fuck, that's hot…" Cary whispered.

"Right?" Stan agreed.

Brad was speechless. Stan had finally gone off the deep end. He'd taken Cary with him.

"You know what would be even hotter?" Cary asked.

"What's that, darlin'?" Stan asked.

Cary leaned up and whispered in Stan's ear. Whatever she said made his eyes brighten, and he laughed.

"That would be," he agreed.

Brad looked from one to the other, then lost his wind again as Stan's fist caught him in the gut once more. As he was still reeling, Stan whipped him around and slammed him down on the cot like a wrestler on the mat. Brad's head spun and his vision dimmed.

A sudden weight on his back drove the few meager breaths he'd managed to inhale right back out.

"Wanna have a threesome?" Cary hissed in his ear.

Brad had no breath to reply. Cary. It was Cary on his back. Her arms went around his neck from behind, and Brad heard the all-too-familiar sound of Stan's zipper. A moment later, Cary gasped into Brad's ear.

"Fuck, that's a big dick!" she hissed. "I love the way your dad fucks me."

Brad groaned and struggled for breath, while atop him, Stan began to fuck Cary with hard, body-wracking thrusts. To his horror and shame, the feel of Cary's hot, half-naked body on top of him, even through his clothes, made Brad's dick hard. Nevermind the fact that he wasn't actually getting to fuck her himself. Nevermind the fact that his father been essentially keeping him a virgin after stealing his girlfriend.

Cary's hot breath in his ear, her passionate moans, and the dirty words were all making Brad slowly hump his small dick against the cot through his pants. The next surprise came when Stan yanked down Brad's pants, popping the button in the process.

One moment, Stan's fat dick was buried in Cary's warm, wet cunt. The next, Stan roughly shoved the big knob of it into Brad's asshole, using nothing but the lubrication accumulated on his dick from Cary's cunt. Brad shrieked, more in surprise than pain, and kicked his legs. Cary, though, had her weight on his back and she wasn't budging.

"Oh, shit!" Cary said into his ear. "Not a virgin anymore, are you?"

Stan smacked his upturned ass and laughed. Brad, gasping in air as his father drove his thick meat into his ass, couldn't comprehend that this was happening. Stan, for all his shithead tendencies, was fucking his own son up the ass, purely for the laughs. Cary, a girl who had been sweet and kind only weeks before, was rubbing her cunt to it as she giggled in his ear.

"Oh, fuck!" Cary said through her laughter. "Your dick is hard over it! Are you actually getting a boner off your dad reaming your asshole?"

Brad groaned as Cary's hand slipped between his legs and squeezed his nuts. And that was all it took for him to squeal and begin to cum onto the cot. Stan barked a harsh laugh and buried his substantial length into Brad's rectum.

"Goddamn figures you'd actually be queer," he said.

Brad shook and trembled as Cary milked his balls onto the cot, tears welling in his eyes at the utter humiliation of getting off to his own incestuous butt-rape. How fucking low could he go? Stan slid his cock from Brad's abused anus, and Cary stood, releasing her weight on him. His father tugged him up by the hair and slapped him twice across the face.

"Hey, wake up," Stan growled. "There's still chores to get done."

Stan shoved him back on the cot and put an arm around Cary.

"Let's go finish up, sweetie," he said.

Cary seemed awed by him as she followed him into the house without another glance back at Brad. As the door to the garage shut, Brad stared up at the ceiling, where the noose dangled. He fingered his flaccid cock and wondered if that might not be the easiest way.

***

Allie

In the weeks that followed, the cycle of humiliation continued. Now that high school was over, Brad began working full time in order to avoid being home. He even picked up a second part-time job in a hardware store. When he was home, his chores never seemed to end.

Now that Cary had moved in, Brad was constantly doing her laundry, cleaning up after her, and doing all the cooking at the house. More often than not, when Cary had finished fucking Stan, she would find Brad and smother him with her cunt until she had another orgasm off of his forcible pussy licking.

To Brad, who had spent his entire life being kicked around by Stan, none of this actually seemed that extreme. It was just how life was. Things were a shit sandwich, and you just had to eat it. What was he going to do? Leave?

When he thought about it, he only laughed at himself. Where would he go? He was a recent graduate from high school, with no money but what he earned at a grocery store. The only thing he owned was his late mother's car. With no life skills, no self-confidence, and no self-esteem, Brad didn't see leaving as an option.

Then there was the horrible fact that some part of him was getting off on the abuse, just as Stan and Cary were. Each time Cary masturbated as Stan fucked his ass, Brad's dick was hard. When Stan spanked him, paddled him, or mocked his small dick, that same small dick was hard. When his face was buried in Cary's well-fucked cunt, his dick was hard.

While he was only familiar with the concept of masochism as something that existed, each day this went on, Brad became more convinced that it was something that might apply to him. Every day there was some fresh humiliation, though some lighter than others. When he went to bed in the garage at night, and the day had passed with only mild suffering, he sniffled himself to sleep. It wasn't because of the things they did to him, though. It was the feeling of guilt and mild self-loathing as he went to bed, feeling somewhat disappointed that things hadn't been worse.

That was a confusing feeling, which he carried like a weight in his gut. Normal people didn't get hard from this kind of treatment, did they? They didn't feel like something was missing when they went a day without being paddled by their father or belittled by their former girlfriend. But Brad did. And that was part of why he stayed.

It was three weeks after his move into the garage that Brad met Kali. It was an unexpected thing at work, while he was stocking shelves in the baking aisle.

"Excuse me," the soft voice said from behind.

Brad rounded and was immediately struck dumb at the sight of her. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders and there wasn't a flaw in her visible skin. There was a lot of that, too, as she was dressed for the heat of summer. Her lean legs were mostly bare beneath a pair of tight shorts, and her exposed tummy was as flat as the shelves Brad was stacking.

His slack-jawed look made her giggle, and it was adorable.

"Can you help me?" she asked.

Brad silently nodded.

"I'm looking for this," she said and showed him her phone screen.

"Paprika?" Brad squeaked.

She nodded.

"It's… it's this way," he said, and started down the aisle, walking blindly as he stared at her.

"You know your way around, huh?" she said with a grin.

"What? Oh! Oh! I'm sorry."

He blushed and wrung his hands as his eyes fell on the floor.

"I don't mind," she said and shrugged. "People look at me all day."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Brad said, and his blush deepened at his own boldness.

He stopped in front of a shelf of spices and reached for one.

"Here it is."

"Thank you," she said.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Brad asked, and then added, "Please?"

That brought another laugh and a smile from her, followed by an offered hand.

"I'm Kali. And if you want to do something else for me, you can ask me out."

Brad took her hand and shook, then furrowed his brows in confusion, and said, "Wait. Out? Like, out?"

He continued shaking her hand for far longer than was necessary. She glanced down at it, smiled, and put her other one over it.

"Unless you're taken," she said.

Brad shook his head and tried not to drool. She took her hands back, dug in her purse, and came up with a card. Brad took it.

"You're a model?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Why would you want me to ask you out?" he asked. "I mean, yes, I'll ask you out! I just… You're, like, gorgeous."

She shrugged and said, "I can tell things about people. You're kind. I'd like to know you better. So, text me?"

Brad nodded again.

"Do you have a name?" she asked. "Or do I just call you paprika?"

"J… Brad. I'm Brad."

"Brad. Text me. I'm serious."

She leaned in and put a light kiss on his cheek before turning and walking away. Brad watched her wiggling backside and voluptuous form vanish around the corner. And then he took his break in the restroom and jerked off.

Things with Kali moved unexpectedly quickly. The two of them hit it off, and Brad had a boost of confidence he hadn't felt in… ever. Kali laughed at his jokes, listened attentively about his college plans, and ended the first three dates with a tongue kiss.

At home, Stan and Cary continued to treat Brad like their servant, however. At night, he would come home tired, some days from working both jobs. Then he would need to clean the house. Somehow, the house always seemed to be a disaster. He was sure that was intentional, too.

At times, his cleaning was interrupted by Stan surprising him with a belt across the ass, a wooden paddle, or a swift kick in the nuts. Cary would then add something else, spitting in his mouth, crushing his balls with her fist, or smothering him in her used cunt or ass.

As horrid as these episodes were, Brad never reconciled the feeling of arousal and excitement that came with them. Then Cary got the strap-on cock, and Brad's life took another twisted turn. It came on a night that Stan surprised him in the garage with a butt-fucking. His father held him down by the neck on the cot, jamming his log of a cock into his squealing son.

"What'd I tell you about the goddamn paycheck, you little troll?" Stan growled. "That's family money, and it goes into the family fund!"

When Brad opened his mouth to apologize for not surrendering his paycheck to Stan, that was when he received his first mouthful of rubber cock.

"Gug!" Brad choked as Cary rammed the stiff length of a strap-on dick into his throat.

"Double-dicked like a real cock whore," Stan said with a laugh. "Goddamn! If I was half the bitch you are, I'd have walked in front of a train by now. Suck on that girl cock, you little faggot."

Brad had little choice in the matter, as he was trapped between his father's bulk and Cary's impaling strap-on. She wasn't kind, either. The weeks of being Stan's personal fucktoy had done something to her beyond just making her crueler. It was like her own self-loathing and disappointment had broken something inside of her, and she was taking it out on Brad.

"Choke on it, cocksucker," Cary said.

Brad sputtered and drooled around her punishing thrusts, spittle flying to coat the dirty cot. Stan clenched Brad's ass in his big hands and drove his length deeper. Brad's eyes rolled back, and he began to spurt cum into the cot.

"What a fucking loser," Cary said and laughed.

***

Brad became expert at deflecting the topic of his home life when he saw Kali. He lived with his father, he'd said. He worked a lot and wasn't home often. He was more interested in putting money aside for when he went to school in the fall.

Kali saw that as responsible. She didn't press him about his home life, but there was something else about his living situation that gave Brad pause as his relationship with Kali grew. Kali was getting sexy, and Brad knew that at some point, they were going to have sex. He was going to lose his virginity at last, and with a stunning woman.

There were problems with that, though. The first was that Brad often had bruises on his ass from being butt-fucked, spanked, paddled, slapped, and kicked. Other signs of his abuse at the hands of Cary and Stan were clear on other parts of him. Kali would see them. She would wonder where they were from. Excusing them as the result of his nightly crime-fighting activities didn't seem like it was going to fly.

The problem resolved itself in a way that became another problem. It happened one evening, a month into seeing Kali, when Brad returned home from work at night. The moment he came in the door to the house, something was amiss. It wasn't the sound of a woman slobbering on Stan's cock. That was a normal sound.

The difference in this sound was that there was another voice over the sounds of the sloppy sucking from the living room. The voice was Cary's, which meant that Cary was not the one currently polishing Stan's fat cock-knob. Drawn by the twisted mix of revulsion and longing, Brad stepped toward the doorway.

When he poked his head inside, the sight on the living room couch made him openly groan. The groan was one of pain, but also that awful, gut-wrenching arousal as his dick got hard. Cary was nude on the couch, her tits pressed against Stan's side, and her hand in the beautiful hair that Brad had come to love in the last month. He'd played with that hair, toying with it gently as he considered how lucky he was.

Now, Cary's hand was in that hair, guiding Kali's head down the length of Stan's bloated prick. The sound out of Brad's mouth caused Cary and Stan to look his way. Kali didn't even raise her head. It was like she was determined not to give up taking Stan's dick until she managed to swallow the whole length.

"Met your new girlfriend," Stan said, a twisted grin on his lips.

Kali did raise her head at that, but Stan's big hand came to rest on her head.

"I didn't tell you to stop, cocksucker," he growled.

Kali dipped her head back down and engulfed his prick.

"He's going to fuck you as hard as he did me," Cary whispered in Kali's ear, just loud enough that it carried to Brad.

Kali moaned around the fat cock in her mouth and reached down to rub her pussy under her skirt.

"Turns out these two fine pieces of ass know one another," Stan said casually, as though Brad's girlfriend were not throating his penis. "Small world, huh? This one mentions to Kali that she's got a cute new boyfriend, and next thing you know, she's popping in to meet the old man. How's that for coincidence?"

"You…" Brad sputtered.

He couldn't pull his eyes from the sight of Kali, on her knees, submissively choking herself on Stan's cock.

"You ready to take that big dick for a ride?" Stan asked her sweetly.

"Mm-hm," Kali mumbled around his prick.

"Climb up on Daddy's lap and see how that feels in your little pussy."

Kali popped her mouth off of his prick and hiked up her skirt as she stood. Cary pushed her tongue into Stan's mouth as Kali mounted his stiff cock, pressing her pussy against the wet head. She eased herself down on it, tossing back her head and gasping as the width of Stan's massive dick parted her folds. A visible tremor ran down her body as she took the first few inches of his length.

The wet smack of Cary and Stan's perverted tongue-play mingled with the hot gasps of pleasure from Kali's mouth, as Stan squeezed her ass in his hands and pushed her further down his shaft.

"Fuck," Kali gasped. "Oh, fuck! That's so… big! Oh, my God!"

Stan pulled his tongue from Cary's mouth and placed on hand on Kali's neck. He drew her in, pressing his lips to hers as he watched Brad from sidelong. Brad stood paralyzed, yet again, a tent in his pants as the lips he'd kissed dozens of times now, parted for Stan's tongue.

His father gave Kali's ass a squeeze and ran his fingers through her hair. Cary sat back and rubbed her naked cunt as she watched the two of them. Her eyes were glazed over with fuck fog and she was panting like a dog over the sight.

"Fuck her," she whispered, almost to herself. "Fuck her, Stan."

Kali moaned loudly into Stan's mouth as he guided her the rest of the way down his cock, pushing his entire thick length into her depths. Her body rocked and shuddered as she took his monstrous cock and came on it. Stan held her still, refusing to let either her mouth or her ass go, as she shook and trembled.

"Oh, fuck," Cary whispered. "Take her. Fucking take her from him."

Brad became conscious of the fact that he was rubbing his cock through his pants and pulled his hand away from his crotch. He stared at it as if it had betrayed him, rather than his father. Then Stan released his hold on Kali's neck, put his hand back on her ass, and lifted her half-way up his cock.

Brad groaned as the wet length of his father's cock slid from Kali's honey depths, coated in her nectar, shining with her need. She whimpered as if Stan were taking away her favorite toy, but then he guided her back down and she audibly sighed with lusty relief.

Stan gripped her butt cheeks harder and began bouncing her up and down his prick, driving it into her core with long, repeated thrusts. Kali threw her head back and nearly went limp as Stan pounded her up and down his cock. She shook like a rag doll, but a delirious, moaning doll for Stan to fuck.

"Oh, shit," she whispered. "Oh, fuck! So… good! So… fucking… good!"

"Fuck her," Cary hissed. "Turn her out. Fuck her."

"Take that big dick, little slut," Stan whispered as he masturbated himself with her cunt. "I'm gonna rearrange your fucking insides to my liking."

The words were more of a stab through the heart for Brad than actually seeing Kali surrender to Stan. Somehow, the words made it true. Kali wouldn't ever be the same. She'd be like Cary, changed, different, rearranged on the inside for Stan. And she'd never come back.

Then Stan pushed Brad's girlfriend down on his cock and stood, hefting her up by her ass. He put her on her back on the sofa, only inches from Cary, and pushed her legs up against the back of the couch. His long cock slid nearly out of her cunt, but he fed its full length back into her until his balls were against her taint.

Kali began to spasm violently as she came again, folded nearly in half with Stan's cock buried in her guts. He pulled it back again and then slid it home. Then again, and again, increasing his pace and force with each thrust.

Kali wasn't making words anymore. She was quivering, gasping, moaning, and whimpering. Her hands were white-knuckled, gripping Stan's forearms as he battered her fuckhole like a virgin who's just discovered his cock and a bottle of lube. His thrusts were deep and powerful, cramming every inch of his massive length into Kali's body and giving her that life-altering fuck that had converted Cary into a depraved slut.

The sound of Cary going to town on her own wet cunt was an underlay to the heartbreaking, horribly arousing sounds from Kali's mouth. Stan's breathing was deep and even as he took her. He was a professional, intent on one goal tonight. He would make Kali just another slave to his cock, and a constant humiliation for Brad.

Cary's fuck-fogged eyes turned toward Brad, who was red-faced and alternately touching his cock and pulling his hand away from it in indecision. He watched with that horrified fascination of someone who knows what they're getting off to is bad for them, and yet they can't fight their overwhelming arousal. Cary crooked her finger at him.

Brad took a step toward her. She beckoned again. Was she so horny that she was going to let Brad fuck her? He took another step. Cary continued to pant and rub her cunt as she crooked her finger at Brad.

He came within less than a foot of her, a foot from Stan, close enough that he could see the utter bewilderment on Kali's flushed face. Strands of her sweat-slick hair clung to her face and her naked tits heaved with each deep breath she took, before Stan's next thrust forced it out of her lungs.

She was so tunneled on the incredible pleasure from that cock-log in her cunt, that she didn't even glance in Brad's direction. She just stared up at Stan like some kind of god as he reamed her cunt, forcing more pleasure out of her with one thrust of his cock than Brad likely would have given her in a month.

He'd never done it, and with his track record, it didn't seem likely. Cary's hand shot out and grabbed Brad's belt. She yanked him closer, throwing him off balance and nearly sending him toppling over her. Her deft fingers undid the belt and yanked on his pants, his boxers, and pulled them down.

Brad's stiff little dick poked out like an attentive soldier. Cary grabbed it and tugged on it, making Brad scream and nearly cum in her hand.

"I always forget how small it is," she said. "You're probably adopted."

"Sadly, no," Stan said and jammed his cock into Kali's creaming pussy. "Here's the first one, you little slut."

And with those words, Kali's eyes widened even further as his cock jerked and flooded her tightly packed sheath.

"Oh, shit!" she gasped. "Oh, fuck! There's so much!"

Stan's hands latched onto her tits and he squeezed as his cock spewed shot after shot into Brad's girlfriend. Cary let go of Brad's dick and they both watched as Kali trembled with each jet of sperm from Stan's cock. When he extracted his creamy dick from Kali's snatch, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Yeah, she's fucking ruined for you, kid."

"You…" Brad stammered. "You… fucked my girlfriend! Again!"

Cary laughed out loud.

"Thought you'd have noticed that was happening before now," Stan said as he rubbed his chin and stroked his dick. "You never were very bright."

"Why is your little dick so hard?" Cary said.

"Oh, my God," Kali said to no one, as she lay dazed and fucked out.

Brad stared at her spunked cunt with his mouth open.

"Got an idea about what to do with that slack mouth of yours," Stan said, and before Brad could react, his father made a kick at the back of his knees.

Brad fell to the floor in front of Kali's creamy cunt with a shocked cry, and then Stan's hand pushed the back of his head into the mess. Cary gasped and then began to cackle like mad.

"Oh, fuck!" Kali exclaimed and her hands took hold of either side of Brad's head. "Oh, yes. Lick it!"

Brad squealed into her cunt and tried to pull away, but with three hands holding his head in place, he wasn't going anywhere. Cary added to the tangle, straddling Brad's back and replacing Stan's hand with her own.

"Wanna see a trick, honey?" Stan said as he fisted his still-hard cock?

"Huh?" Kali said in a daze and Brad struggled to breathe through her cunt.

"I'm gonna make this big dick disappear," Stan said.

"Guh!" Brad yelped.

Stan grabbed Brad's hips and Cary's free hand gripped one of his ass cheeks.

"You're gonna love this," Cary said to Kali. "I think he takes it better than I do. He was made for this. It's so hot!"

Stan pushed the head of his cum-wet, fuck nectar-coated cock into Brad's ass. Brad opened his mouth to holler, as he always did, which only served to further drench his mouth in Kali's spunky cunt. He wiggled his hips instead, a feeble gesture that only managed to work Stan's cock deeper into his asshole.

"Total bitch," Cary said.

"Oh, shit! Seriously?" Kali squeaked.

She looked down on the squealing, squirming young man that she'd had nothing but love for only a few hours ago. Brad couldn't see over her mons, but he knew what he'd find if he could. She thought he was a worm, a weak and pathetic tool. She'd been wrecked by Stan's cock, and she would be just like Cary.

Stan began to stroke his cock into Brad's hole, while Cary and Kali jerked his head back and forth through her cunt. His father's hand came down on his ass, bringing a squeal of pain, then another. His tiny dick waved back and forth, hard as always.

"Wait for it," Cary said. "He never lasts long when Daddy makes him his bitch."

And he didn't. Brad groaned and jerked as he shot a rope of cum into the carpet.

"Oh, shit!" Kali said. "Did he just… cum?"

"Yeah. Total bitch," Cary said.

The disdain Kali felt came across in the sound of her defeated sigh, as if she were only now realizing who Brad really was. She'd been dating some kind of pervert that got off on being butt-fucked by his dad, and humiliated by his ex-girlfriend. And Brad couldn't exactly blame her. As he emptied his balls onto the carpet, he wasn't even sure he could disagree.

Kelsey

"I can't date some shrimp-dicked queer," Kali said to Brad after Stan had fucked her again.

"Maybe you should leave," Brad grumbled, as he sat on his cot in the garage.

Kali stood in front of him, her cunt leaking the remains of Stan's second fucking.

"Leave? I'm not done in there. I just came to tell you that we're breaking up," she said, and glanced at the noose hanging above the cot. She rubbed her wet cunt and said, "Maybe you should think about that."

Brad looked up at the noose, then at her. She seemed almost dreamy about it. The look passed. She seemed as though she were going to say more, but she shrugged and went back inside. The door shut, leaving Brad alone in the garage with his shriveled dick.

***

Brad learned about the trust in his name only a week after Stan had stolen his latest girlfriend.

"What trust?" he asked one night after work.

Stan sat back on the couch as Cary sucked his cock, and said, "Your mom left you a conditional trust when she died. Now that you're eighteen, the funds will start coming."

"Really?" Brad asked, his dick hard as he watched Cary lovingly lick Stan's naked cock.

"Catch it," Stan said, and pushed Cary's head down his cock until she sputtered and drooled, "I'm in charge of that money until you graduate college like your mom wanted."

"In charge of?"

Cary began to slap at his legs as she struggled to breathe, but Stan didn't relent. Brad watched with some trepidation as his ex-girlfriend began whimpering.

"Easy now, cocksucker," Stan said. "Don't bite it."

"Mff!" Cary mumbled.

Stan turned back to Brad and said, "It means that the funds get disbursed into an account I control until you graduate. I can access a portion of them for necessities, but the rest stays there until you fulfill the conditions of the trust."

"Conditions? More than one?"

Stan released Cary's head, and she jerked back violently, coughing and sucking in air as she drooled on her tits.

"That's what I said," Stan said and snapped a picture of Cary's red face and watering eyes. "The other condition is that you live at home with your dear old dad until you graduate."

Brad couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah," Stan said. "Your mom was a kind-hearted old whore. I give you that. Miss that fucking pussy, too."

"Fucking great," Brad grumbled.

"Yeah. I'm stuck with you unless you want to give up the funds or off yourself. You think about that yet? I installed a new weather seal on the garage door. If you wanna sit in that bucket and turn it on, the place will fill up quicker now. Pretty sure carbon monoxide poisoning would make things pretty swift."

"I'm not going to kill myself!" Brad snapped.

Cary rubbed her cunt and returned to sucking Stan's cock. Stan shrugged and said, "Suit yourself."

Cary pulled her mouth off his prick and asked, "Can we make Brad eat my ass again?"

"That was fun, wasn't it?" Stan asked and guided Cary's head back to his cock. "Not now. Best we make it a surprise."

Brad stormed out of the room and back to the garage. For a few minutes, he stared up at the noose above the cot, wondering if the torment would ever end. He could give up the trust, of course. Certainly, his mother hadn't foreseen the monster Stan would become.

Somehow, though, it felt like a betrayal. Not of Stan. Stan was a piece of shit. It was a betrayal of his mother's wishes. That was as far as his thoughts got that night. After working both jobs, he flopped down on the cot and was asleep in seconds.

Stan's surprise came during the night, when Brad awoke to an all-too-familiar suffocating feeling. He lurched awake as Cary's asshole smashed into his face. She ground her backside against him, roughly fucking her ass against his mouth and nose.

Brad didn't even try to fight it anymore. If he did, Stan would just punch him in the gut, hold him down, or bend him over and fuck his ass while he was forced to eat Cary's cunt. Instead, he lay limp and allowed Cary to pleasure herself on his face.

Stan's chuckle came from nearby, and a moment later, Brad's pants were being tugged down. This, too, he didn't fight. It was better to just let it happen. It was less painful this way.

Only Stan didn't plan on fucking him. Instead, his father grabbed hold of Brad's small dick and squeezed. Brad cried out into Cary's ass as Stan slipped something cold and metal over his cock. Then a lock clicked and a strange sense of confinement surrounded Brad's cock.

Cary groaned and pressed her cunt into his face as she came.

"Fuck, that's so hot!" she said. "You're making him into such a bitch!"

"Can't make him what he already was," Stan said.

Cary dismounted Brad's face, and he shot up, wiping her cunt honey from his mouth and nose. He blinked away tears and looked down at his dick. Stan had placed some kind of weird metal cage around it.

"What the fuck?" Brad exclaimed as he grabbed it and tugged on it.

His balls were trapped behind a metal ring, while the cage fit snugly over his dick. The two pieces fit together, with a lock keeping them secured. Stan dangled the key in his hand.

"Don't want you getting any funny ideas about deserving pussy or some shit, while we're away," Stan said.

"What?" Brad said, tugging again on the cage. "Take it off!"

Stan shook his head and said, "After we get back from Vegas, Cary and I will talk about it."

"Vegas? You'll talk about what? Give me the key!" Brad yelled.

"It looks so cute," Cary said. "Like one of those baby carrots."

"We'll only be gone two weeks," Stan continued, and twirled the little key around his finger. "You've been a virgin for eighteen years. Probably will be for life. What do you need that little thing for anyway?"

"But—"

"Listen, shit-stain," Stan growled. "I'm taking Cary and… what's-her-name—"

"Kali," Cary replied helpfully.

"That other slut you used to crush on," Stan continued, ignoring her, "to Vegas for two weeks. You keep this place spotless while I'm gone. There will be hell to pay if you don't."

"You can't!" Brad said.

"Oh, now don't go missing Daddy's cock up your ass already," Stan said, and squeezed one of Cary's ass cheeks. "And I can do whatever the fuck I want. In fact, I might even rent out that hot little slut's cunt while we're there. She can supplement my gambling fund."

Brad wiped at tears in his eyes.

"Anyhow, don't try to get that thing off. You're incompetent enough that you'll probably cut your dick off," Stan warned.

"Oh, my God!" Cary exclaimed. "Do you think we—"

Stan interrupted her. "He might be more bitch than man, darlin', but I'm not gonna chop off his junk. Not today, at least."

"Could we at least go, like, pretend that you did while you fuck me?" Cary asked.

"Damn fine idea," Stan agreed. He turned back to Brad and said, "Anywho, go ahead and do yourself in if you want to. Otherwise, I'm off to fuck your girl again. We'll be thinking about you. Parts of you, at least."

He palmed Cary's ass and guided her back into the house. The last thing Brad heard as they shut the door was Cary asking, "Do you think you'd burn his dick off or just chop it?"

***

Having the house to himself was a strange feeling. When Brad came home at night, there was no abuse. There were no butt-rapings, no insults, and no spankings. That did not mean, however, that Stan failed to remind Brad exactly what sort of horror his life had become.

The first of those reminders came on the day Stan and Cary left with Kali for Vegas. Brad's phone pinged with a message, and when he opened it, he found a photo. The picture showed Kali with her legs spread on an airplane toilet. Her legs were bent back nearly to her ears, and Stan's huge prick was halfway in her cunt. The look on her face was one of pure bliss.

"Your slut joined the mile-high club!" Stan's message said.

Later in the day, it was another message with a photo of Kali's mouth stretched around Stan's cock. Cary was pushing the back of her head down on his long shaft.

"Gonna make some good money off this mouth while I'm here!" read the message.

Another photo that evening showed Kali's anus, lewdly stretched by Stan's dick. Cary held her cheeks apart, and she was spitting into Kali's ass. Each time a message came, Brad made to turn off the phone. He never did, though.

His dick ached in the cage, and with each new photo, he tugged on it in frustration. Just before he went to bed that night, a final message came in. This one was from Cary. The photo this time was of Kali on her back, on a hotel bed. Her head was off the bed, and Stan's dick was lodged in her throat. Another man was holding her legs apart as he fucked her. To the side stood two other naked men, presumably waiting for their turn.

The next reminder was of a different sort. The following day, after waking to a series of photos in which Kali and Cary were being gang-fucked by strange men. Stan stood in the frame, counting money.

This next reminder of Stan's control came when Brad attempted to buy lunch during work. His card was declined, and when he checked his bank balance, it was empty. Out of his paychecks, which he gave to Stan, his father deposited half into Brad's own account. The other half went to "household expenses," which Brad took to mean booze.

The meager bit that Brad had managed to save—just over $2,000—was now gone. It had been withdrawn in one lump sum. In Las Vegas. Stan. Why had Stan taken the money? Stan had plenty of his own money.

Brad knew better than to ask his father about the money. That would get him nowhere. Stan, however, decided to inform him, instead.

While his stomach grumbled that night at his second job, Brad received another message.

"Bad night at the roulette table," it read. "Lost your money on a single spin. Lost that new slut of yours for the night, too. Might get her back in the morning, but I'm pretty tired. She might stay here with Vince."

"Who is Vince?" Brad wrote back, and then felt stupid.

Stan had just admitted to not only stealing Brad's money, but losing it all on a roulette spin, and then selling Kali for a night of sex with whoever Vince was.

"He's a pimp," Stan wrote. "Like I said. She might not come back. Honestly, I'm kind of annoyed you're still alive. Figured that little caged dick of yours, and the fact you're a virgin loser would have urged you to do the deed by now."

Brad made no further reply. He sat heavily on the cot, scraping a bowl of ramen noodles he'd scrounged from the pantry. To keep himself sane, he thought about the money, his mother, her wishes, and steeled his will. He was going to make it.

***

There was little food in the house, and with two more days to payday, Brad was making the bits last. Working at the hardware store, a woman approached that evening, slightly older than him. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and even from the front, Brad could see the swell of a generous ass. His dick ached in the cage.

"Excuse me," she said, but she already had Brad's attention.

"Hello, ma'am. What can I help you with?"

She bit her lip, shuffled her feet, and said, "I know this sounds stupid, but I need a garbage disposal and I have no idea what I actually need."

Brad brightened and said, "I can help you with that!"

He blushed at his own eagerness, and she blushed right back with a giggle that made his stomach flutter.

"Um, right this way," he said.

She took up stride beside him as they walked a few aisles down, where Brad stopped them in front of a range of disposals.

"So, do you know if you have a septic system?" Brad asked.

She shook her head and said, "No. I mean, no, I don't have one."

"How much cooking do you do? Like, do you have a big family and think you'll be using it a lot?"

"It's just me," she said. "I just moved into a new place and the thing went out in the first week. Can you believe it?"

Brad smiled and said, "It happens. If you want one that will last forever, you get stainless steel. But that will likely outlast even the motor. If you're only using it on occasion, you can go with plastic. Just don't pour boiling water down the drain a lot and it should last a long time."

"I don't use it much," she said. "I guess the plastic will be okay?"

Brad nodded and moved a shelf over.

"These should do the trick. You want one with a decent motor, something at least mid-range."

He pointed out two. She took one off the shelf and examined the box.

"So, I don't actually know how to install it. Does it come with directions?"

"Sure. It's really not that difficult. I did one at my place a few weeks ago and it was the first time I'd done it."

"I guess I'll figure it out," she said. "Thank you!"

She flashed him a heart-melting smile, and he blurted, "I could do it for you if you want."

She cocked her head, studied him for a tense second, then said, "You'd do that?"

Brad's cheeks reddened, and he said, "Well, yes. I'm sorry. That probably sounds weird."

"No," she said. "I think it sounds sweet. Would you do it in exchange for dinner?"

"With you?"

She laughed and said, "No, silly. I was going to give you a Taco Bell gift card. Of course, with me."

"That would… you mean it?"

"Sure. You don't seem like a crazed stalker or a perverted rapist."

No, that's my dad.

"I'm not. Really. I'd like that!"

"When are you free?" she asked.

"I'm off tomorrow night. Oh, and Saturday morning. But morning isn't really dinner time. So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is," she said and put out her hand. "I'm Kelsey."

"Brad," he replied and shook her hand.

"Let me give you my number and we'll text to make a plan. Sound good?"

"Great!"

Through the rest of his shift, Brad was on a total high. Even the string of messages showing his father and strange men giving Cary an anal gangbang didn't dampen her spirits.

***

Installing the disposal was a quick task, made even easier by Kelsey's easy banter. She was a complete sweetheart, and dinner was excellent. During the days that Stan was gone, Brad spent every free minute with her. He was careful, though, not to get too intimate.

Kelsey was very into him, touchy and loved to kiss. Fortunately, she seemed as cautious as he was to go further. Every night, he went home to tug in frustration on his cage, so horny that he thought he might lose his mind. After a cold shower, things were under control, but never quite all the way.

Throughout those days, Brad thought about the money, college, and how he might use that money to ask Kelsey to marry him. In the fantasy, Stan's reign of terror was over. Brad had completed a degree, gained his trust, and he stood down the aisle as Kelsey walked toward him for their wedding.

It was a fantasy that kept him going, eager to endure whatever he had to in order to get the trust. It didn't make wearing a cock cage more bearable, but it did give him hope. He needed that hope to combat the bouts of depression that swept over him each time Stan or Cary sent another message.

Vince, the pimp, was making great money off of Kali's holes, Stan made sure to let Brad know. Cary was loving becoming a hardcore gang-fuck slut. She was taking two to three cocks in every hole almost nightly, and Stan was taking in good gambling money off her tight young body. The messages were as humiliating and demeaning as always.

"Hope your pin-dick's rotting off in that cage!"

"This girlfriend of yours really is some kind of whore. You pick up anymore for me, yet?"

"Goddamn her ass can take a cock! Not yours, but really anyone else's."

"Don't reply back if you've starved to death."

"If you're considering offing yourself, can you set up a camera to record it for when I get home? Oh, and don't do it somewhere where you're gonna shit the place up."

"After you're gone, I'll bring Cary by to fuck her on your grave from time to time, so you don't get too lonely."

Eventually, the day came that Stan returned without Kali. Cary was with him, looking worn out and walking funny. Despite her weariness, it didn't stop her from retrieving the wooden paddle from the kitchen immediately upon entry.

"You miss us?" Stan asked as he put Brad's neck in a lock and bent him forward.

Brad made the obligatory struggle, but there was actually some part of him that had missed it. His poor dick was straining to get hard as his father held him, and Cary yanked down his pants.

"Give him a good welcome home whack, sweetie," Stan ordered.

Cary cracked the wooden paddle against his ass and Brad screamed into Stan's chest. Cary drew back and hit him again on the other cheek, making him wail and begin to blubber. His caged dick jiggled with each successive whack, until his backside began to bruise.

Finally, Stan let him up, and Brad ran from the room in tears.

"Maybe that'll finally make him do it," Cary said.

But Brad wasn't giving up. He was in love and there was a future with Kelsey, one that only required a few more years of enduring Stan's abuse. And somehow, keeping Kelsey away from him.

Late in the night, Stan and Cary came to the garage as Brad slept. Brad awoke with a start and began to choke. He clawed at his neck, where the noose was cinched around it.

Cary had his legs back and Stan held them while she pushed the length of the strap-on cock up his ass. He tried to yell, but it only came out as a gurgle. Stan laughed as his big dick bobbed in Brad's face.

"Struggle a little more. You'll tighten that thing and suffocate after a while. Hell of a way to go. Kind of fitting though. Taking cock up your ass from a girl."

Brad tried to lay still as Cary fucked him, which was difficult knowing he had a noose around his neck. Stan's half-hard dick kept bumping against his face as Brad tried to keep his mouth shut, while also trying to breathe. Once Stan realized that Brad was holding his own legs back to let Cary fuck him, he took his dick in hand and used it to beat Brad in the face and laugh.

Once Cary had gotten her fill of his ass, she swapped positions with Stan. His father fucked the thick length of his cock into Brad's rectum, while Cary straddled his face and rode it to get herself off. As he was already struggling to breathe, Brad's vision dimmed, and he began to go limp. Soon, he lost consciousness.

***

The noose was hanging above the bed when Brad awoke to the sound of a loudly ringing dinner bell. He bolted upright and felt at his neck, then noted the rope above the bed. Stan stood near the cot with his dick out, clanging the bell.

"Up and at 'em, scullery maid!" his father bellowed. "Customers are waiting on their breakfast order!"

Brad groaned and covered his ears, which did nothing to muffle the bell. It did, however, prompt Stan to kick the cot over on its side, spilling Brad across the cold concrete.

"Fuck!" he shouted. "I'm up! Goddamn it, I'm up!"

Stan clanged the bell once more and said, "Then hurry up and get breakfast ready before you go to work."

"There's no fucking food!" Brad shouted as he tugged on his shorts. "You took all my money. Remember?"

"Sure do. It was a shit spin on the wheel, too. Probably because it was yours. Well, if you were too fucking lazy to go out and suck dick for some cash or something, I guess you can just go in hungry. Cary and I will go out."

Stan threw the bell at him, striking Brad in the stomach, before he went back into the house. Brad waited for the sound of Stan's car leaving before going in. He showered in icy water. It seemed Stan had decided to shut off the water heater before leaving, just for a little extra touch of misery.

Brad worked both shifts that day, and when he received a message from Kelsey saying that she had a surprise for him. He was in good spirits. He just hoped it wasn't that she was in the mood to go all the way, as Stan hadn't seen fit to remove the cock cage, yet.

However, it turned out that the surprise was much more horrible than Brad could have imagined. When he pulled his car into the driveway, Kelsey's car pulled in right behind it. Brad bolted from the car and waved her away, desperate to get her as far from the house as possible.

Instead, Kelsey got out of the car and came in for a hug. She put her arms around Brad and kissed him on the lips. He hesitated, allowing the kiss to go on for a moment, before he gently pushed her back.

"You can't be here," he said. "You should go."

"Why? I just wanted to see where you live."

"Kelsey, please. You can't—"

"Got a guest, son?" Stan's voice came from behind.

Brad whipped around and said, "She was just leaving!"

"Nonsense," Stan said and gently moved his son aside. He put out his hand and said, "Stan. Brad didn't tell me he was seeing someone! Come inside and tell me how you two met. It's about time he found himself a nice girl."

Brad groaned as Kelsey took Stan's hand and shook it.

"Kelsey," she said. "Wow, you're as handsome as your son!"

"More so," Stan said with a jester's grin that made Kelsey laugh.

Stan looped her arm through his and escorted her up the walk like some kind of gentleman. Brad watched them walk away, his mouth open in horror. It couldn't be happening. Not again! How the fuck was this possible? And why was his dick straining to get hard?

He shook his head and dashed up to the house behind the two of them.

"Have a seat, honey," Stan said as he escorted her to the living room. "Brad will whip us up something to snack on. Right, Brad?"

Brad stopped in the doorway at the hint of command in Stan's tone.

"I—"

"Cary and I did some shopping today, so there's food in the pantry. Honestly, I'm not sure how you could have been so irresponsible. This kid, Kelsey. I tell you."

"Oh, is Cary your wife?" Kelsey asked as she allowed Stan to seat her.

"Oh, no. Cary used to be Brad's girlfriend," Stan explained.

Kelsey cocked her head and looked at Brad, who blushed furiously.

"Used to be Brad's Girlfriend?"

She looked utterly perplexed. Brad had an explanation on the tip of his tongue, a reason, but all that came out was, "I—"

"What he means to say is—" Stan began, the looked toward Brad. "Brad, didn't I tell you to go make us some dinner?"

Brad slowly backed out of the doorway but only until he was out of sight.

"Uh, does he always do that?" Kelsey asked. "Like, what you say?"

"He does. So, you're sweet on him, eh?"

"Um, yes?" Kelsey said.

"Why don't I bring Cary in? We can tell you the whole story while Brad fixes dinner," Stan said, then toward the doorway, "Dinner, Brad! I know you're still standing around like a peeping pervert."

Brad jumped and scampered toward the kitchen as Stan said, "It's that shrimp dick of his. Makes him whacky."

Kelsey gasped out loud, and the little giggle that followed told Brad all he needed to know. By the end of the night, Stan was going to be fucking Kelsey, too.

While Brad let the food cook, he stood near the doorway, listening to the sound of Stan laughing along with Kelsey and Cary. Laughing at him, no doubt. They were already turning her against him, and he was too much of a wimp to do anything about it.

By the time he came back into the living room, Cary had her top pulled off and laying on floor. Kelsey was now in Stan's lap and the wet smack of their lips was the loudest sound in the room. Cary's excited breathing as she rubbed her cunt through her panties was the second.

Brad stood in the doorway, holding a tray, like a servant who had unexpectedly walked in on his employer's orgy. Stan pulled his tongue from Kelsey's mouth and they turned toward Brad. His newest girlfriend's flushed, aroused face, held an expression somewhere between guilt and pity. It did not, however, stop her hand rubbing the monster bulge in Stan's pants.

"We were just telling your girlfriend about the little welcome home party you threw us last night," Stan said. "How you put that nice cage around your little dick, and then let Cary plug your butthole with the strap-on."

Cary giggled as she rubbed her cunt.

"I… I didn't—" Brad stammered.

"Go ahead and pull them down. Show your hot girlfriend what she could look forward to from a relationship with you."

"I—"

"This will be really good," Stan said to Kelsey. "Maybe he needs a hand. He loves it when Cary makes him show his winky off. Seeing as how she was his first. Got a soft spot for her, I guess."

Cary took that as her cue to stop rubbing her twat. She crossed the room to Brad, gently tugged his arm, and led him toward the couch, still carrying the tray.

"You see?" Stan said and his hand fell on Kelsey's crotch. His fingers edged her skirt up as he continued, "He's a real follower that one. No spine at all. Complete bitch through and through."

"I… see…" Kelsey said, making no attempt to stop Stan's wandering hands.

As Brad took each step closer, Kelsey seemed to part her legs just a bit wider, giving Stan better access to her panty-covered pussy.

"Set that down, Brad. You're gonna spill something and we'll need to spank your faggy little bottom again," Stan said.

Kelsey actually shuddered and let out a small moan.

"Like that, huh?" Stan whispered in her ear. "They all do. Once they see what kind of a real fuck-up he is, they sort of stop seeing him as a person. He's got more in common with one of those braindead bimbo Barbie dolls. Minus the tits, of course. Wouldn't surprise me if he eventually transitions, though."

Brad flinched and turned an embarrassed shade of pink, which made Cary laugh.

"Aw! He got all pink like a girl," she said and her hand grasped Brad's caged dick through his pants.

"I'm telling you, Chels," Stan said. "The kid's as sexually confused as a half-gay freshman, only with a dick the size of a toothpick. Show her, Brad. She deserves to know, right?"

Cary took the tray from Brad's trembling hands, set it aside, and moved behind him. She reached around and undid his belt, her breath hot against his neck as she whispered in his ear.

"You knew it was going to happen," she said. "What were you thinking? That you could be some kind of normal boy with a hot girlfriend? That you'd finally get to feel your first pussy?"

Stan's fingers crept beneath Kelsey's skirt, which he'd managed to pull up and entirely expose a pair of lacy, pink panties. Panties that were probably intended for Brad. Likely, her surprising him at home had been a precursor to giving him her pussy tonight. Instead, her pussy, like all the rest, was for Stan.

The belt slid through the loops and fell to the floor. Cary popped the button on his pants, unzipped them, and tugged them down over his hips. The familiar humiliation, being exposed as a deviant in front of yet another girlfriend, had Brad's dick pressing against the little bars of the cage.

"Oh, my God," Kelsey said. "You're fucking serious."

"Just watch," Stan whispered in her ear as he rubbed her pussy through the pink panties.

"Show her that big cock," Cary whispered as she slid his boxers down.

Kelsey gasped as Brad's caged dick came into view, and then laughed as Cary put her hand around the cage and gave it a jiggle.

"Fucking sorry, isn't it?" Stan asked. "We've been coaching him toward making his final decision, if you know what I mean. Going through life like that is probably worse than terminal cancer. Little fucker's got some will, though. I'll give him that."

Brad jerked as Cary squeezed his balls, then he let out a girly moan as Stan unzipped his pants and reached inside. It was going to happen. Kelsey's eyes were riveted on Brad's cock cage.

"You want it to happen. Just admit it," Cary whispered. "You're a sick little pervert and you want him to do it."

Brad shook his head but his nuts in Cary's hand tightened. Stan pulled out the thick length of his cock, took Kelsey's hand, and placed it around the fat shaft. She didn't even look at it. She stared at Brad's pathetic dick and began to stroke Stan's half-hard prick.

"Tell her you want her to do it," Cary whispered. "Tell your girlfriend to jerk your dad's cock."

"I don't…" Brad whispered but he couldn't look away from Kelsey's hand, wrapped around his father's huge cock, just like all the others.

There had been something different about her, something pure and good. For all those days, he'd fantasized about taking Kelsey to a home they owned together, making love to her as his first. Now, that fantasy had been replaced by one of Kelsey getting to her knees and submitting to Stan's big dick. There was nothing good and pure about it. In the span of an hour, Stan had corrupted that purity and turned it into another stake through Brad's heart.

"You need this," Cary said, and she pushed a finger up his ass.

Kelsey's pace on Stan's prick increased, and she parted her lips. Stan put his hand on her cheek, turned her lips toward his, and kissed her again. Her flushed cheeks, those pretty cheeks, that Brad had caressed so many times this past week, now moved as Kelsey's mouth worked against his father's.

"Tell her that she should suck it for him," Cary urged. "Tell her that she deserves a real man."

"She… you should…"

"Go on," Cary said, and gave his cage a tug.

"You should… suck it," Brad whispered.

"You see? It was easy."

Cary's hot breath puffed against his ear as Kelsey moaned. Brad's eyes fell on her pussy, where Stan had pushed her panties aside and inserted a thick finger into her cunt. It was visibly wet. The wet sound of his finger in her cleft was audible just under the sounds of their slow kissing.

Stan broke the kiss and whispered, "Why don't you get down there and show me how much you can take, honey?"

Kelsey, breathless, nodded her head and unseated herself from Stan's lap. She sank to her knees in front of him, wrapping both hands around his cock, and she stared at it like a religious icon. Stan guided her mouth to the head of it and Kelsey's tongue flicked out to taste his knob.

"That's it, honey," Stan said. "Real easy, huh?"

"Yeah," Kelsey whispered and opened her mouth.

Brad groaned as she put her lips around Stan's cockhead. Cary moaned into his ear.

"Oh, fuck," she hissed. "He's got her now. That fucking dick is going to wreck her for you, just like you wanted."

Watching Kelsey slowly engulf Stan's cockhead brought that oh-so-familiar stab of guilt, heartbreak, and confusing arousal. There weren't any tears, though. Not this time. After Cary, it had been hard. After Kali, the pain was more of a dull ache. This time, it was a sharp stab that accompanied the butterflies, and the perverse sense of excitement as his father took what should have been his. Again.

He'd been expecting it, somehow, Brad realized as Cary tugged on his cage. Was the excitement he'd felt at this new relationship really for himself, or had it been some subconscious desire to find yet another woman for his father to steal, to fuck, and to treat like his sexual property?

Kelsey choked as she took only a third of Stan's cock in her mouth. She came back up, took a deep breath, and looked up at him for approval. Stan stroked her hair like a pet and said, "That was good, honey. It's a big dick, I know. You're gonna get real good at taking it, though, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Kelsey whispered, and Stan pushed her head back down on his shaft.

This time, he gently pushed her further, forcing a bit more of his tremendous girth into her widely spread mouth. Kelsey whimpered, but she didn't back away. She let out a breath through her nose, inhaled, and made a glurking sound as she attempted to go further.

Once he had it in them, Stan's cock seemed to become some kind of personal Everest for each of the girls. It was like they were determined to reach the base of it, to take his whole length, and somehow prove to him that they were worthy of getting more. Stan did nothing to deter them, of course. He whispered encouragement, gave them a gentle nudge, and made them feel as though they were improving with each slutty mouthful.

Brad stood in aroused silence, with Cary's dick fondling his cage, and her excited breathing in his ear, watching his father transform Kelsey. It was so easy for him. With his weird charisma, it seemed like any woman he wanted was within his reach. For some reason, though, it had to be Brad's women.

For nearly ten minutes, Cary and Brad watched Kelsey evolve as a cocksucker with Stan's expert guidance. Seemingly in no time, she'd passed the halfway mark on his cock. She looked damned proud of herself as she came up for air and fisted Stan's prick. Stan reached out and tugged her top up and over her head. Kelsey didn't make a single protest.

"This is it," Cary whispered. "He's going to fuck your girlfriend again. She's going to fucking love that cock."

"Yeah," Brad whispered.

"Watch!"

Stan stood up, his cock right in Kelsey's face, and he reached down to take her hand. She wobbled to her feet, with that cock-drunk look that Brad knew from Cary's face, and Kali's. She was moving on some kind of slutty autopilot, an instinctual need to be filled with Stan's massive dick.

He laid her back on the couch and took her legs in his hands. Kelsey watched his cock approach, her tits heaving and pussy glistening. Wordlessly, Stan placed the head of his cock at her entrance and simply nodded his head. Kelsey took it in her hands and played the fat knob against her slit, coating it in a sheen of her honey.

"You can do it," Stan said.

Kelsey put his crown to her entrance and fitted it inside, gasping as Stan eased it forward. Once more, Brad watched helplessly, frozen, his locked-up cock in control of his body, as Stan's prick opened up another girlfriend. His massive dick seemed to remake Kelsey's cunt, just as it had Cary's, and Kali's, using its awesome girth to widen her channel for its pleasure.

"Oh, my God!" Kelsey squeaked and her body shuddered. "Oh, fuck!"

"That's a big dick, isn't it?" Stan asked.

"So big," Kelsey agreed.

"You glad you didn't let that sack of shit put his baby sausage near this pretty pussy?"

"Yeah," Kelsey whispered and her body spasmed again as Stan gave her more of his length.

"Can't have that little peewee soiling a sexy little cunt like yours, can we, sweetie?"

"Ugh! No!"

"It'd be a damn shame if any woman had to let that tiny excuse for a dick in their pussy, wouldn't it?"

"Fuck! Y… yes! Oh, fuck! More!"

Cary jerked harder on Brad's cage as his father continued his deliberate progress into the warm depths of Kelsey's pussy. Her legs trembled violently in his hands as he sank deeper, filling her beyond any expectation she'd ever had. Brad could see it on her face, just like that others, that shocked look of disbelief. How could anything feel so good?

Stan's full length vanished inside Kelsey's cunt, and when his balls touched her lips, she cried out and went into a fit of seizure-like twitching.

"Fuck, yes," Cary whispered. "That's how he does it. She'll never cum so fucking hard with anyone else. She's hooked on that dick now."

As Brad watched his girlfriend shake and scream with ecstasy, he realized that he too, like them, was a slave to Stan's cock in a different way. As much as he hated the fuck of a father he'd been cursed with, there was something cathartic in the realization. A sort of weight lifted as the thought struck him that Stan was, in a strange way, right.

These women would never get pleasure from his tiny cock. They'd never feel the way Stan made them feel. And after a lifetime of abuse at Stan's hands, it was normal for him. Living without Stan's overbearing, insulting fuckery each day those two weeks had been like missing a hand. It just wasn't normal.

Brad had been so frustrated, with his cock locked up, unable to get any release. But when he thought about getting that release, it wasn't the fantasy of making love to Kelsey that had gotten him hot inside. It had been the idea that he needed to keep her away from Stan, or exactly this was going to happen. His own arousal was, somehow, tied to the idea of Stan stealing these women away and using them for his own gratification.

"Do you need to cum?" Cary whispered. "I'll let you take off the cage if you jerk off to your dad fucking your girlfriend."

"Yes!" Brad said without hesitation.

Cary pulled the key from around her neck and inserted it into the lock. She pulled it free, took off the cage, and laughed in Brad's ear as he immediately began to pull on his little dick with two fingers.

"Jerk it to her," Cary whispered. "Jerk that little dick to Daddy fucking your girlfriend. Look at her take that big man cock. Yours isn't even the size of his cockhead! She'll never be able to feel it. All you can do is stroke your pathetic little weenie to this. That's your sex life. You're an ass-fucked cuck to your own dad, and it's always going to be that way."

Brad groaned and shot a milky stream from his cock after only a few jerks. It coated his fingers as the explosion of pleasure, the release after two weeks of chastity, melted his mind and made his knees go weak.

"Oh, fuck!" he cried. "Oh, fuck!"

"Already! Oh, my God!" Cary mocked him.

Stan grunted and pulled his cock back, then rammed it back home into Kelseys cunt. She wailed and clung to his arms as he began his real assault on her insides.

Brad's dick leaked the last drops of cum, but before it had finished, Cary slid the cage back on, slipped the slips through the holes, and pushed the lock through with a click.

"Let's go for a month this time," she said. "Maybe you'll find a new girlfriend for your dad to fuck by then. Think of it as encouragement. The longer you wait to bring your dad fresh pussy to take from you, the longer it will be before you get to cum again."

"That's Daddy's pussy, isn't it, honey?" Stan said to Kelsey.

Brad wiped sweat from his brow and contemplated a month in the cage. Could he stand it? No. He needed to find another girlfriend. His dad needed fresh pussy to steal.

Kelsey bucked against Stan's cock and screamed, "Oh! It's your pussy! It's your pussy, Daddy!"

The Move

It was dark in the garage, save for the light of the TV that Stan had installed the day after stealing Kelsey's pussy. The TV showed only channel, a camera in Stan's bedroom. The view was so that Brad could watch as Stan fucked Cary and Kelsey, night after night.

Brad's dick ached in the cage as his head spun with possibilities. Where would he find another girl? Who could he seduce in order to get his next orgasm? How long would this cycle last?

On the TV, Stan got out of the bed, leaving his two sluts half-asleep from their fuck play. Brad began to doze off. A moment later, the garage door opened, bringing the cold of the night into the already chilly garage. Stan stood, silhouetted against the darkness.

Brad couldn't make out his face, but Stan looked left, then right, then said, "Seems like you're getting pretty comfy in here."

"What?"

He stepped inside, crossed to the cot, and yanked Brad up by his hair.

"Ow! Fuck! What are you—"

Stan slung his son over his shoulder and marched around back, with Brad kicking and hollering.

"Shut your mouth or I'll cram my dick in it, you little queer."

Brad fell silent. Stan rounded the corner of the house, and dropped Brad on the ground, driving the breath from his lungs. He popped the latch on the tool shed, opened the door, and reached down to grab a fistful of Brad's hair.

"Figured you could use an upgrade for being such a sport," he said, and dragged Brad into the shed. He tossed him against the lawn tractor, and with a laugh shut the door.

"Be back in the morning to wake you!" Stan called through the door.

Brad sank to the floor, sneezed from the dust, and put his head on his knees. His cock ached. His back ached. Everything ached. But as he sat in the dusty darkness, dozing off against the lawn tractor, the worst part was that the tool shed didn't have the TV.