Hard core stories for the hard core. These stories are all fantasies and should not be taken as portraying either the actions or the inclinations of those individuals appearing in the accompanying photos or gifs. All photos and gifs are reblogs. If you want a post or photo of or about you deleted, please let me know and I will delete it.
Cole’s old man was fucking him again. Like he’d done so many times before. But this time it was different. It was even grosser than usual. Because this was Cole’s wedding night and Marianne, Cole’s new wife, was in the room next door waiting for her husband to appear and fulfill his husbandly duties. Cole could just imagine what she’d think if she knew that her studly husband, the jock-stud she had just married, was next door getting his boycunt plowed raw by his own father. Their marriage wouldn’t last the night if she found out, Cole was sure of that.
And that was the problem. Cole had seen his marriage as a way of getting away from his father, of ending his years-long stint as his old man’s fuckboy, his personal cumdump. Marianne's father was loaded and doted on his daughter. And he’d already told Cole that his new son-in-law could expect a meteoric rise in the man’s company. At long last, Cole would no longer be dependent on his father’s largesse, and he could tell his old man to go fuck himself, just like Cole had wanted to for years.
And he’d done just that. He'd had it out with his father, a week before the wedding, when the man had stopped by Cole’s apartment looking to fuck his son’s hot boypussy just like he’d done countless times in the past. "I'm done being your whore, dad,” Cole had told him. "I'm done being your little boy-bitch. You've fucked me for the last time. Now get the hell out of my apartment and out of my life. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead, dad. You're dead and buried. Now get the fuck out.”
His old man had been shocked, Cole could see that. And pissed, too. But what could he do? Cole didn’t have to worry about his old man’s strangle-hold on the family purse-strings. Not anymore. And Cole was big enough to take care of himself. Big enough to fend his dad off, if it came to that. But it hadn’t. Instead, fixing his son with a steely look he’d simply said, “We’re not done, boy. Trust me, Cole. We're nowhere near done.” Then he’d simply turned on his heel and walked out of Cole’s apartment.
Things had gone fine after that. Or at least they seemed to. He hadn’t heard from his father the entire week and Cole actually believed that the man was out of his life for good. And then he’d gotten the text just as he was finishing dinner at his wedding reception. And Cole’s entire new world had collapsed around him.
“Bitch [not ‘Cole’ or ‘Boy’ as in the past]:
I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself at the reception. But now it’s time to pay the piper. You have fifteen minutes to meet me in Room 613 so I can give you my own, personal wedding gift. And I would suggest that you be there on time – unless you want your wife and your new father-in-law to discover just what kind of faggot fuck-boy your wife has just married. See you soon, bitch.
Dad”
There were half-a-dozen attachments appended to the text. Cole clicked on the first one and then immediately clicked it off. Hurriedly excusing himself, he ran to the bathroom where, his hands shaking, he scanned through them all. Cole couldn’t believe it. Though he hadn’t realized it, his old man had obviously been filming their sessions together over the years. Attached to the email were videos of the two of them together. While they had obviously been carefully edited to obscure his father’s visage, Cole’s own face was crystal clear in every one. And, in every one, Cole was sucking cock and getting his ass fucked.
Cole’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest that Cole could actually hear it. But that’s not all he could hear. His own voice was clear in the videos, asking, begging, pleading with his father to ‘fuck me harder,’ to ‘cream my faggot pussy,’ to ‘cum up my fagboy ass.’ And while Cole was obviously aroused in every video, the worst was the last one where he was violently fucking himself on his old man’s cock, pounding his quivering ass frantically up and down until Cole’s own cock exploded a veritable geyser of hot boy-seed that arced a good three feet into the air.
By the time he had finished scanning the videos, Cole knew he had no choice but to do what his dad had ordered. There was no way he could explain away what the videos showed. Even if he was able to somehow convince Marianne that they were fake, that someone had manipulated his image onto another dude’s body, Cole knew he’d never be able to convince her father of that. At best, Marianne’s father would insist on an immediate annulment. At worst – well, considering her father’s considerable financial resources, Cole didn’t want to contemplate what ‘worst’ might entail. Whatever it was, though, Cole was sure he didn’t want to risk it.
Cole quickly pocketed his phone, rushed back to the table and, after making some lame excuse that there was something that needed his immediate attention, he rushed to the elevators and hit the sixth-floor button. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor and he entered the hallway that he realized that, somehow, his father had managed to rent the room immediately adjacent to the ‘Honeymoon Suite,’ where Cole and his new wife were scheduled to spend the night.
Frantically, he knocked on the door of Room 613 and when his dad finally opened it, he ran inside. "Dad, dad,” he began, before his words were cut-off by a bitch-slap to his face.
“Not a word, bitch,” his dad angrily cautioned him. "Not a fucking word. You said your piece last time. Now it’s my time to talk. But first, boy, first I want to see you naked. So strip, bitch. All the way. I want you buck naked. Now!"
Stunned, his face burning from the force of the blow, Cole just stood there for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he started removing his clothes. All of them. In just a few minutes, he was completely naked, the way his father wanted him. And no sooner was he naked than his father reached out and began fondling him, squeezing and stroking his boy-junk.
Cole forced himself to just stand there as his father felt him up like some cheap whore. And even though the last thing in the world Cole wanted was to become aroused, he couldn’t help himself and soon he was sporting a full-on boner, jutting straight out of his crotch. Seeing his son’s erection, Cole’s dad snorted his contempt. And then the man began speaking.
“Bitch,” he said, as he continued to grope the boy’s junk with his right hand while his left hand began playing with his boy’s tits, “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking the last time we talked. Did you really think that, after years of training you up to be the perfect little fuck-hole, I was going to just walk away because you wanted to get married? Is that what you thought? Are you that stupid?”
His dad had been gently teasing his junk, but suddenly he grabbed a firm hold of Cole’s balls and twisted them hard, making his son squeal in pain. And he kept up the pressure on his boy’s nads as he continued speaking.
“Well, you can forget that shit, bitch. I sired you. I gave you life. And not only that, I’m the one that cored out a cunt where your asshole originally was. I'm the one who took your cherry. I'm the one that turned you into the pathetic cum-slut you now are. You're never going to be free of me, boy. You're always going to be my bitch, my fuck-whore, my cum-rag. Never doubt that, boy. Never forget it. You're my bitch – now and forever.”
“And since you’re my bitch, I’m the one who decides when you get to cum, when you get to shoot your worthless ball-juice. Being married doesn’t change that, boy. You don’t fuck your wife unless I say so. Unless I say so. And the only time you’re ever going to have my permission is when your tight little boycunt is leaking my ball-slime. That's the only time you’ll ever be allowed to fuck your wife’s cunt – when your own cunt is filled with my babymakers.”
“So, bitch, seeing how tonight’s your wedding night and your wife expects a good coring-out, you need to get your faggot ass up on my bed and get your boy-snatch filled with my Man-seed.”
Cole looked at his father, tears in his eyes. "Dad, please…” he started.
“Bitch,” his father cut him off, “you get your ass on that bed and your legs in the air or I send the videos to your wife and your father-in-law. Now, bitch. Now!"
Cole just stared straight ahead for a long moment. And then, sobbing softly, he climbed up on the bed, laid down on his back, raised his legs in the air and spread them far apart. A moment later, Cole was squealing like a bitch as his father began ravaging his boypussy just like he had countless times before.
That was over an hour and a half ago and Cole’s dad has been going at his son’s cunt hot and heavy ever since. His dad’s already forced Cole to text his wife twice, telling her he’d been hung up, but not to worry – everything was fine. And then, fifteen minutes ago, his dad made Cole call Marianne, call her while his old man was plowing away at Cole’s already leaking fuck-hole. That phone call had been excruciatingly humiliating for the boy.
“Hello, Marianne. It's me,” Cole had started off, lying on his back on his father’s bed, his legs spread wide apart as his old man pounded away at Cole’s aching boytwat. "Yeah, honey. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. But you see, I’ve been planning a big surprise for you tonight and things got out of whack, somehow, and I’ve been trying to fix things up…No, honey. I want it to be a surprise. Just trust me, babe. It'll be something great. I...I promise.”
The truth, of course, was that there was no surprise, at least not one Cole had any intention of sharing with his new wife. But his father had ordered him to call Marianne and keep talking to her until his old man gave him the ‘thumbs up’ to end the conversation. And that’s what Cole was doing, just talking to his wife, talking nonsense, really, just waiting for the okay to end the conversation. And all the time Cole was on the phone, his dad wasn’t just plugging away at Cole’s cum-filled fuck-chute. He was working Cole’s boy-dick, too. Stroking it, teasing it, making it throb in heat. And suddenly, Cole knew exactly what his old man was doing. His father was going to make Cole cum, cum while he was talking to his wife, cum while he was getting his own boy-ass seeded with a fresh load of his father’s spooge, cum like some trained monkey while his own father bitched him out.
Cole didn’t want to cum. Not like that. Not while he was being fucked like a bitch and talking to his wife at the same time. But he could feel himself getting more and more aroused as his father pounded Cole’s pussy and worked on his boy-cock. His old man knew exactly what he was doing. He'd fucked his son so often that he knew exactly how to make his boy shoot a load, exactly how to force his son into an orgasm even while his boy-ass was being pummeled into mush. And that’s exactly what he was doing as Cole writhed on his bed, trying to assure his wife that everything was okay, even as he was being driven closer and closer to a gut-wrenching explosion of hot boy-seed.
“Don’t…don’t worry, honey,” he was saying, as he could feel his balls rising in their sac, “I’ll…I’ll be back in…in just a few minutes. And then…and then we’re gonna have us a great time tonight. Just you and…and me. You'll see. You'll...You'll... SEEEE!!!!” Cole couldn’t help squealing out that last word in a high-pitched voice as his boy-cock erupted with a massive stream of fuck-juice splattering all over his heaving torso, reaching up to his chin. And even as he shot his own load, his father began humping into Cole’s battered ass with a fury, spraying his babymakers all over the insides of his son’s stretched-out boycunt.
Tears were streaming down Cole’s face, his mortification complete and total as his boy-dick spewed one last strand of creamy spunk onto his belly, listening to his wife repeatedly asking him if everything was alright even as his traumatized anus began uncontrollably farting out dollops of his father’s latest cum-deposit. "I'm fine, honey,” he managed to rasp out even as his old man, grinning in triumph, finally gave his son the ‘thumbs up’ he’d been waiting for. "I'll see you in a few minutes, babe,” he finally gasped. "I promise.” And then, just as a crying jag overcame him, Cole clicked off his phone.
“You bastard,” he cried, as his father laughed aloud. "You fucking bastard. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to your own son?”
His father showed not the slightest remorse. "You needed to be taught a lesson, boy. You needed to be shown that your marriage hasn’t changed a thing. You're still my bitch, my fuckboy, my on-call cum-dump. Nothing's gonna change that, boy, and you needed to be shown that.”
Still grinning, Cole’s dad yanked his cock out of his son’s cum-soaked hole. "We're done here, boy. For now. And, if I were you, I’d hurry up and get dressed and get back to your wife. After all, you only have two hours.”
Even as Cole was finally able to close his legs and begin to collect himself, his father’s words hit home. "What do you mean, I only have two hours?”
“That’s how long I’m giving you, boy. Two hours. Two hours to fuck your wife and seed her pussy. After that, you’ll be spending the rest of your wedding night with me – getting your own pussy fucked and seeded.”
“Dad,” Cole heard himself pleading, “you can’t be serious. How...how am I gonna explain to Marianne why I’m spending our wedding night someplace else? How can I possibly explain that?”
“That would be pretty hard to do, boy,” his father readily agreed. "That really would be hard to explain. But, fortunately, you won’t have to. Here," he said, tossing his son a small plastic baggie, “just drop one of these pills in a glass of champagne after you’ve done your duty and make sure your wife drinks it. She'll be out like a light until morning. And, once she is, I expect to see you walking through that door connecting our two rooms, stark naked, ready to spend the night getting your own twat-hole bitched out by hard dick. And I expect to see you in exactly two hours, or your wife and your father-in-law are in for a shocking surprise. So you’d better hurry, boy. You don’t have a lot of time.”
Looking at his father, Cole didn’t have the slightest doubt that he’d do precisely what he threatened. After all, his old man would lose nothing if Cole’s marriage fell apart. It was Cole’s life that would be ruined. But as he hurriedly began putting back on his tuxedo, he couldn’t resist letting his father know exactly what he thought of him. "You are one sick, twisted motherfucker, dad. One sick, twisted motherfucker.”
But if Cole thought his sally would upset his father, he was quickly disabused. Instead of being angry, this old man started laughing. "You don’t know the half of it, son,” he finally replied, tears of mirth streaming down his face. "You don’t know the half of it,” he repeated, “but I’ll clue you in on a little. There're seven pills in that bag I tossed you, boy. One for tonight and the other six for your honeymoon. You see, boy, I’ve already arranged for us to have adjacent rooms on Maui. And you’re gonna be spending every night of your honeymoon in my bed, getting your boypussy reamed out by my big cock. Your wife, she’s gonna be really well-rested after your honeymoon, getting a full-night’s sleep every night. But you, boy, you’re gonna be lucky if you can even stand by the time your honeymoon’s over. You're gonna have one stretched-out, over-worked cunt by the time you make it back on the plane to come home. You can bet on that, boy. You can bet your sweet ass on that.”
Cole looked at his father in shock. And despair. He'd never be rid of the man, that was clear now. He'd be his father’s fuck-bitch, his faggot whore, forever. That wasn’t just the way things had always been, that was the way things would always be. And Cole knew now that he needed to accept that reality. Which meant he had to hurry. After all, he had only two hours to spend with his wife, playing the stud. And, after that, he’d be back with his father, serving as the man’s bitch. As he would be for the rest of his life, the rest of his fucking, fucked-up life. Cole was his father’s bitch. Now and forever.
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Cole’s old man was fucking him again. Like he’d done so many times before. But this time it was different. It was even grosser than usual. Because this was Cole’s wedding night and Marianne, Cole’s new wife, was in the room next door waiting for her husband to appear and fulfill his husbandly duties. Cole could just imagine what she’d think if she knew that her studly husband, the jock-stud she had just married, was next door getting his boycunt plowed raw by his own father. Their marriage wouldn’t last the night if she found out, Cole was sure of that.
And that was the problem. Cole had seen his marriage as a way of getting away from his father, of ending his years-long stint as his old man’s fuckboy, his personal cumdump. Marianne's father was loaded and doted on his daughter. And he’d already told Cole that his new son-in-law could expect a meteoric rise in the man’s company. At long last, Cole would no longer be dependent on his father’s largesse, and he could tell his old man to go fuck himself, just like Cole had wanted to for years.
And he’d done just that. He'd had it out with his father, a week before the wedding, when the man had stopped by Cole’s apartment looking to fuck his son’s hot boypussy just like he’d done countless times in the past. "I'm done being your whore, dad,” Cole had told him. "I'm done being your little boy-bitch. You've fucked me for the last time. Now get the hell out of my apartment and out of my life. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead, dad. You're dead and buried. Now get the fuck out.”
His old man had been shocked, Cole could see that. And pissed, too. But what could he do? Cole didn’t have to worry about his old man’s strangle-hold on the family purse-strings. Not anymore. And Cole was big enough to take care of himself. Big enough to fend his dad off, if it came to that. But it hadn’t. Instead, fixing his son with a steely look he’d simply said, “We’re not done, boy. Trust me, Cole. We're nowhere near done.” Then he’d simply turned on his heel and walked out of Cole’s apartment.
Things had gone fine after that. Or at least they seemed to. He hadn’t heard from his father the entire week and Cole actually believed that the man was out of his life for good. And then he’d gotten the text just as he was finishing dinner at his wedding reception. And Cole’s entire new world had collapsed around him.
“Bitch [not ‘Cole’ or ‘Boy’ as in the past]:
I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself at the reception. But now it’s time to pay the piper. You have fifteen minutes to meet me in Room 613 so I can give you my own, personal wedding gift. And I would suggest that you be there on time – unless you want your wife and your new father-in-law to discover just what kind of faggot fuck-boy your wife has just married. See you soon, bitch.
Dad”
There were half-a-dozen attachments appended to the text. Cole clicked on the first one and then immediately clicked it off. Hurriedly excusing himself, he ran to the bathroom where, his hands shaking, he scanned through them all. Cole couldn’t believe it. Though he hadn’t realized it, his old man had obviously been filming their sessions together over the years. Attached to the email were videos of the two of them together. While they had obviously been carefully edited to obscure his father’s visage, Cole’s own face was crystal clear in every one. And, in every one, Cole was sucking cock and getting his ass fucked.
Cole’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest that Cole could actually hear it. But that’s not all he could hear. His own voice was clear in the videos, asking, begging, pleading with his father to ‘fuck me harder,’ to ‘cream my faggot pussy,’ to ‘cum up my fagboy ass.’ And while Cole was obviously aroused in every video, the worst was the last one where he was violently fucking himself on his old man’s cock, pounding his quivering ass frantically up and down until Cole’s own cock exploded a veritable geyser of hot boy-seed that arced a good three feet into the air.
By the time he had finished scanning the videos, Cole knew he had no choice but to do what his dad had ordered. There was no way he could explain away what the videos showed. Even if he was able to somehow convince Marianne that they were fake, that someone had manipulated his image onto another dude’s body, Cole knew he’d never be able to convince her father of that. At best, Marianne’s father would insist on an immediate annulment. At worst – well, considering her father’s considerable financial resources, Cole didn’t want to contemplate what ‘worst’ might entail. Whatever it was, though, Cole was sure he didn’t want to risk it.
Cole quickly pocketed his phone, rushed back to the table and, after making some lame excuse that there was something that needed his immediate attention, he rushed to the elevators and hit the sixth-floor button. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor and he entered the hallway that he realized that, somehow, his father had managed to rent the room immediately adjacent to the ‘Honeymoon Suite,’ where Cole and his new wife were scheduled to spend the night.
Frantically, he knocked on the door of Room 613 and when his dad finally opened it, he ran inside. "Dad, dad,” he began, before his words were cut-off by a bitch-slap to his face.
“Not a word, bitch,” his dad angrily cautioned him. "Not a fucking word. You said your piece last time. Now it’s my time to talk. But first, boy, first I want to see you naked. So strip, bitch. All the way. I want you buck naked. Now!"
Stunned, his face burning from the force of the blow, Cole just stood there for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he started removing his clothes. All of them. In just a few minutes, he was completely naked, the way his father wanted him. And no sooner was he naked than his father reached out and began fondling him, squeezing and stroking his boy-junk.
Cole forced himself to just stand there as his father felt him up like some cheap whore. And even though the last thing in the world Cole wanted was to become aroused, he couldn’t help himself and soon he was sporting a full-on boner, jutting straight out of his crotch. Seeing his son’s erection, Cole’s dad snorted his contempt. And then the man began speaking.
“Bitch,” he said, as he continued to grope the boy’s junk with his right hand while his left hand began playing with his boy’s tits, “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking the last time we talked. Did you really think that, after years of training you up to be the perfect little fuck-hole, I was going to just walk away because you wanted to get married? Is that what you thought? Are you that stupid?”
His dad had been gently teasing his junk, but suddenly he grabbed a firm hold of Cole’s balls and twisted them hard, making his son squeal in pain. And he kept up the pressure on his boy’s nads as he continued speaking.
“Well, you can forget that shit, bitch. I sired you. I gave you life. And not only that, I’m the one that cored out a cunt where your asshole originally was. I'm the one who took your cherry. I'm the one that turned you into the pathetic cum-slut you now are. You're never going to be free of me, boy. You're always going to be my bitch, my fuck-whore, my cum-rag. Never doubt that, boy. Never forget it. You're my bitch – now and forever.”
“And since you’re my bitch, I’m the one who decides when you get to cum, when you get to shoot your worthless ball-juice. Being married doesn’t change that, boy. You don’t fuck your wife unless I say so. Unless I say so. And the only time you’re ever going to have my permission is when your tight little boycunt is leaking my ball-slime. That's the only time you’ll ever be allowed to fuck your wife’s cunt – when your own cunt is filled with my babymakers.”
“So, bitch, seeing how tonight’s your wedding night and your wife expects a good coring-out, you need to get your faggot ass up on my bed and get your boy-snatch filled with my Man-seed.”
Cole looked at his father, tears in his eyes. "Dad, please…” he started.
“Bitch,” his father cut him off, “you get your ass on that bed and your legs in the air or I send the videos to your wife and your father-in-law. Now, bitch. Now!"
Cole just stared straight ahead for a long moment. And then, sobbing softly, he climbed up on the bed, laid down on his back, raised his legs in the air and spread them far apart. A moment later, Cole was squealing like a bitch as his father began ravaging his boypussy just like he had countless times before.
That was over an hour and a half ago and Cole’s dad has been going at his son’s cunt hot and heavy ever since. His dad’s already forced Cole to text his wife twice, telling her he’d been hung up, but not to worry – everything was fine. And then, fifteen minutes ago, his dad made Cole call Marianne, call her while his old man was plowing away at Cole’s already leaking fuck-hole. That phone call had been excruciatingly humiliating for the boy.
“Hello, Marianne. It's me,” Cole had started off, lying on his back on his father’s bed, his legs spread wide apart as his old man pounded away at Cole’s aching boytwat. "Yeah, honey. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. But you see, I’ve been planning a big surprise for you tonight and things got out of whack, somehow, and I’ve been trying to fix things up…No, honey. I want it to be a surprise. Just trust me, babe. It'll be something great. I...I promise.”
The truth, of course, was that there was no surprise, at least not one Cole had any intention of sharing with his new wife. But his father had ordered him to call Marianne and keep talking to her until his old man gave him the ‘thumbs up’ to end the conversation. And that’s what Cole was doing, just talking to his wife, talking nonsense, really, just waiting for the okay to end the conversation. And all the time Cole was on the phone, his dad wasn’t just plugging away at Cole’s cum-filled fuck-chute. He was working Cole’s boy-dick, too. Stroking it, teasing it, making it throb in heat. And suddenly, Cole knew exactly what his old man was doing. His father was going to make Cole cum, cum while he was talking to his wife, cum while he was getting his own boy-ass seeded with a fresh load of his father’s spooge, cum like some trained monkey while his own father bitched him out.
Cole didn’t want to cum. Not like that. Not while he was being fucked like a bitch and talking to his wife at the same time. But he could feel himself getting more and more aroused as his father pounded Cole’s pussy and worked on his boy-cock. His old man knew exactly what he was doing. He'd fucked his son so often that he knew exactly how to make his boy shoot a load, exactly how to force his son into an orgasm even while his boy-ass was being pummeled into mush. And that’s exactly what he was doing as Cole writhed on his bed, trying to assure his wife that everything was okay, even as he was being driven closer and closer to a gut-wrenching explosion of hot boy-seed.
“Don’t…don’t worry, honey,” he was saying, as he could feel his balls rising in their sac, “I’ll…I’ll be back in…in just a few minutes. And then…and then we’re gonna have us a great time tonight. Just you and…and me. You'll see. You'll...You'll... SEEEE!!!!” Cole couldn’t help squealing out that last word in a high-pitched voice as his boy-cock erupted with a massive stream of fuck-juice splattering all over his heaving torso, reaching up to his chin. And even as he shot his own load, his father began humping into Cole’s battered ass with a fury, spraying his babymakers all over the insides of his son’s stretched-out boycunt.
Tears were streaming down Cole’s face, his mortification complete and total as his boy-dick spewed one last strand of creamy spunk onto his belly, listening to his wife repeatedly asking him if everything was alright even as his traumatized anus began uncontrollably farting out dollops of his father’s latest cum-deposit. "I'm fine, honey,” he managed to rasp out even as his old man, grinning in triumph, finally gave his son the ‘thumbs up’ he’d been waiting for. "I'll see you in a few minutes, babe,” he finally gasped. "I promise.” And then, just as a crying jag overcame him, Cole clicked off his phone.
“You bastard,” he cried, as his father laughed aloud. "You fucking bastard. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to your own son?”
His father showed not the slightest remorse. "You needed to be taught a lesson, boy. You needed to be shown that your marriage hasn’t changed a thing. You're still my bitch, my fuckboy, my on-call cum-dump. Nothing's gonna change that, boy, and you needed to be shown that.”
Still grinning, Cole’s dad yanked his cock out of his son’s cum-soaked hole. "We're done here, boy. For now. And, if I were you, I’d hurry up and get dressed and get back to your wife. After all, you only have two hours.”
Even as Cole was finally able to close his legs and begin to collect himself, his father’s words hit home. "What do you mean, I only have two hours?”
“That’s how long I’m giving you, boy. Two hours. Two hours to fuck your wife and seed her pussy. After that, you’ll be spending the rest of your wedding night with me – getting your own pussy fucked and seeded.”
“Dad,” Cole heard himself pleading, “you can’t be serious. How...how am I gonna explain to Marianne why I’m spending our wedding night someplace else? How can I possibly explain that?”
“That would be pretty hard to do, boy,” his father readily agreed. "That really would be hard to explain. But, fortunately, you won’t have to. Here," he said, tossing his son a small plastic baggie, “just drop one of these pills in a glass of champagne after you’ve done your duty and make sure your wife drinks it. She'll be out like a light until morning. And, once she is, I expect to see you walking through that door connecting our two rooms, stark naked, ready to spend the night getting your own twat-hole bitched out by hard dick. And I expect to see you in exactly two hours, or your wife and your father-in-law are in for a shocking surprise. So you’d better hurry, boy. You don’t have a lot of time.”
Looking at his father, Cole didn’t have the slightest doubt that he’d do precisely what he threatened. After all, his old man would lose nothing if Cole’s marriage fell apart. It was Cole’s life that would be ruined. But as he hurriedly began putting back on his tuxedo, he couldn’t resist letting his father know exactly what he thought of him. "You are one sick, twisted motherfucker, dad. One sick, twisted motherfucker.”
But if Cole thought his sally would upset his father, he was quickly disabused. Instead of being angry, this old man started laughing. "You don’t know the half of it, son,” he finally replied, tears of mirth streaming down his face. "You don’t know the half of it,” he repeated, “but I’ll clue you in on a little. There're seven pills in that bag I tossed you, boy. One for tonight and the other six for your honeymoon. You see, boy, I’ve already arranged for us to have adjacent rooms on Maui. And you’re gonna be spending every night of your honeymoon in my bed, getting your boypussy reamed out by my big cock. Your wife, she’s gonna be really well-rested after your honeymoon, getting a full-night’s sleep every night. But you, boy, you’re gonna be lucky if you can even stand by the time your honeymoon’s over. You're gonna have one stretched-out, over-worked cunt by the time you make it back on the plane to come home. You can bet on that, boy. You can bet your sweet ass on that.”
Cole looked at his father in shock. And despair. He'd never be rid of the man, that was clear now. He'd be his father’s fuck-bitch, his faggot whore, forever. That wasn’t just the way things had always been, that was the way things would always be. And Cole knew now that he needed to accept that reality. Which meant he had to hurry. After all, he had only two hours to spend with his wife, playing the stud. And, after that, he’d be back with his father, serving as the man’s bitch. As he would be for the rest of his life, the rest of his fucking, fucked-up life. Cole was his father’s bitch. Now and forever.