Dad and His Boy

Dad had just picked me up from Mom’s house. My divorced parents had a week on, week off schedule, which worked for them, but not for me. Besides the fact that I couldn’t drive, my dad is a fucking psychopath. He makes me dress up like a baby boy, with ninja turtle shirts and underoos with Spider-Man on them. Thankfully, I’ve “grown” enough to not wear a diaper anymore. That was fucking humiliating. But now it’s gotten worse.

He’s locked me up in chastity. He did it while I was sleeping, and even though I’m a heavy sleeper, I would think someone fondling my genitals would wake me up. It unfortunately didn’t, and my dick hasn’t gotten hard in over a year. Well, of my accord. Dad cleans my own fuckin’ dick for me, and of course it gets hard. But then he applies a cold compress, and back in the cage it goes.

He has both keys to my cage, not even giving Mom one in case of emergency. And once we’re inside, I need to strip naked and show Dad that my cage is still on. Actually, I need to call him Daddy when we’re home together. It’s so fucking weird. Now, you might be wondering where all this stands, legally. I should have reported it to the police by now, right? Well, my father befits the psychopath moniker I gave him earlier. He coerced my mother and a psychologist into diagnosing me with strong delusions. All the local police know I’m not to be trusted, and Dad never takes me outside the local area. I keep trying to get through to Mom, but it seems like Dad has something to lord over her.

And we’re at my Dad’s house. I can’t even open the fucking door to exit, Dad making me sit in the back with the child lock. He opened the door for me and I followed him inside. Once the door was shut and locked, Dad announced, “You know the drill.” I did, unfortunately. I started with my shoes and socks, which was quickly followed by my underwear and pants. Dad liked to check I was still in chastity the fastest, and taking off my shirt would take precious seconds away from knowing.

As I was taking off my blue shirt, I noticed the massive bulge in my dad’s underwear. He had stripped to just his socks and tighty-whities, and it was painfully clear he was erect.

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As a Treat

Hey can you do something about sweaty feet and socks? “Here,” you say, seeing your slave salivating over your dirty socks and shoes. “I need to fuckin’ piss slave, and I’d rather not do it in your mouth right now.”

“Yes, sir!” says your slave, although he does look sad. Who the fuck even cares though? Even while you are pissing, you can hear your slave loudly sucking on your socks, getting all the sweat out. You can also hear his deep breathes, breathing in the stench of a real man. When you return to the room after your piss, your slave looks up at you expectantly.

“Not yet, bitch. Clean those fucking rank socks for me.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s pathetic watching a slave like him suck on your dirty socks. He’s about the same size as you in muscle, and yet he gets off on serving men like you? Disgusting. But at least you get to save on your water bill, as your slave does all the cleaning for you. And look here, he’s finally done sucking on your stinky and dirty socks.

“Yes,” you say, as your slave looks up at you. He crawls on his hands and knees over to your feet, and bends down. He starts worshipping your feet, breathing in that noxious and rank odor that turns slaves like him on. He gets in between each and every one of your toes, and even the soles, one of the dirtiest parts. His dick is not caged, and is throbbing like crazy. He knows that if he cums, he’ll get punished, and the punishment you give is not for the faint of heart.

After some time, you no longer feel tongue on your feet. Your slave looks up at you, always wanting your validation. A cursory glance shows he did a good job, as always. “Good job, slave. Now make me some dinner. I’m fuckin’ hungry after today’s workout.”

“Yes, sir!”
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Sniffing Punishment

Coach Jackson ran a tight ship with his college athletes. Their football program was consistently one of the top in the country, and more than half of his players had gone on to play in the NFL. However, that meant Coach Jackson took no bullshit, and so here he was in his office, with one of his star linebackers.

“Dixson, what did I fucking tell about taking PEDs! That’s grounds for expulsion for you, but it can lead to a shitton of problems for the program itself!”

“I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Oh, you’re damn fuckin’ right it won’t happen again! I had to call in a lot of favors to sweep this under the rug and not make it into a national scandal.”

“That’s good, Coach. I need to play, and I’m lucky you saw my potential.”

“Well, you fuckin’ dipwad, I’m benching you for the first game of the season, and your punishment will be decided shortly.”


“Dixson, you almost fuckin’ ruined the entire fuckin’ program! Yes, you’re gettin’ fuckin’ punished! Now leave before I decide to kick you off the team!” Dixson didn’t need to be told twice, and scampered out of the office. He went back to his dorm room and didn’t do anything, just scroll through the App Store, looking at games. He didn’t want any scrutiny of anything he did until the punishment was over, and so he was excited when Coach Jackson called him up. “Get back to the locker room. Now.”

Dixson arrived at the locker room a few minutes later. He was expecting some kind of hazing or something, being that he was still a sophomore. However, it was just him and Coach in the locker room. “Strip buck naked.”

“Excuse me, Coach?”

“You fuckin’ heard me, Dixson. I want to see your cock in less than ten seconds!” Dixson hurriedly stripped, and covered his junk as Coach began walking again. The two made their way to the back of the locker room, where few players changed. However, Dixson knew it as the place where the containers for jocks and socks were. He helped Coach lug one out from next to the wall. “Get on your hands and knees.”

“Um, for what?” Dixson asked. He finally knew to comply, but not without asking questions.

“For your fuckin’ punishment, Dixson.” Coach bent over and picked up a mask on the bench. Dixson didn’t notice it before, and despite his constant stupidity, he did realize it was a gas mask. He finally put two and two together as Coach Jackson placed it on his face. Unfortunately, he also heard a click and a jangling of keys. He was still able to look up at Coach, but clawing at the mask did nothing.

Despite the fact he could easily take Coach in a fight, Dixson did not fight back as Coach hooked up the end of the gas mask tube with an opening at the bottom of the barrel. He was immediately hit with an onslaught of rank aromas, musk, sweat, and even some caked-on cum contributing to the mixture. Now Dixson tried to fight back, but the barrel was surprisingly heavy, and if he moved around too much, he could seriously hurt himself.

“The other guys have been told that if you aren’t in your scent pig duties when they throw their dirty jocks and socks into the barrel, getting kicked off the team and being blackballed will be the least of your worries.”

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Camming for Cash

“Love you too, honey,” Valeria said to her husband, after she kissed him. She had their baby in one hand and the toddler holding the other. Francis had to stay at home most weekends, and while her husband always paid for the trips, Valeria was afraid that her husband was cheating on her, and the bitch was being invited into her own fucking house. Francis was technically cheating on her, but not in the way she would have expected at all. Her husband was a camboy, and he made a lot of money doing it.

It all started one day when Francis was at his 9 to 5, having a water cooler chat. His daughter Caryn had just been born, and since Valeria was a stay at home mom, there was only one source of income flowing in.

“I don’t know what to do, man,” Francis said to his best friend, Chuck. “All of the money goes to rent, and groceries, and medical expenses. I’m afraid I won’t be able to save enough money for her to go to college.”

“Why don’t you try camming?”

“Camming? What the fuck is camming?”

“You record yourself on camera, and your viewers tell you what you want by paying you.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“It’s legit, Frank, and with a body like yours, you’ll be raking in the dough!”

“What did I say about that?”

“Sorry, but it’s true, Frank. And it will be helpful in this business.”

“Thanks, Chuck.” Francis then went back to work, but kept the idea of camming in the back of his mind. He was set to go on a business trip in a couple days, and the first night he was in a different city, he had the whole night free. The city was known for drinking, but he had important client meetings the next morning. However, he did bring his personal laptop with him, and thought back to his and Chuck’s conversation. He booted it up and searched camming websites. Most websites told him to sign up for Chaturbate, which he did. Soon enough, he was on camera.

He had forgotten to take his shirt off, but before he did, a message popped up in the chat box. “Not yet, man! Look so fuckin’ hot with it on!” All Francis was wearing was a fitted dress shirt, but the viewers seemed to love it. A bunch of people commented on it, and eventually Frank went shirtless, after a bunch of actual money was deposited in his account. Fans ate up the ripped body of the late twenty-something, as well as his five-o’clock shadow. He eventually went buck naked, and tentatively started jerking off his cock on camera.

Money came rolling in after that, and soon after cumming on camera, he decided to end it for the night. He looked at his account after the webcam was turned off, and even with Chaturbate’s cut, he still made much more than he ever would at the company he was at now. “Maybe camming isn’t such a bad choice,” Francis thought, before he hopped in bed and went to sleep.

There are FIVE photos to go along with this story, three being SFW.

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Personal ASS-istant

“How can it hurt?” asked Lenny, as he snapped the last photo for his job application. It was of his sweaty and toned chest, the final bullet point on the application. Lenny did have to admit, it was a bit weird just sending in face and chest pics to some random strangers over the internt. No resume, no nothing. Honestly, it was probably fake, and some old skeevy dude would be jerking off to his photos until the next dumb twenty-something sent his photos in. But on the slim chance it was a real job, Lenny pressed send.

While job searching a couple days later, he received an email back from the same address.

“Dear Mr. Leonard Jones,

We are glad to offer you the position of personal assistant to our CEO, Mr. Nathan Huxtable. Please come to our office at your earliest convenience, so that your training many begin.” Lenny was fucking pumped. He actually got the fucking job! He was still in his pajamas and hadn’t showered yet today, so after taking a shower and getting dressed, he drove to the office building. It was in the business part of the city, his new workplace lost in a sea of skyscrapers. He made his way inside and up to the office’s floor. He exited the elevator and walked over to the receptionist’s desk.

“Leonard Jones here to see Mr. Huxtable.”

“Ah, yes, he’s been expecting you, Mr. Jones. Right this way.” Lenny followed the perky blonde receptionist to the back of the floor, right in front of an enormous room with wood panel siding on it. She knocked on the door. “Mr. Huxtable, your new personal assistant, Mr. Jones, is here.”

“Perfect,” replied back a booming voice. Lenny thought it sounded distinguished, and it matched the image of Mr. Huxtable himself. Impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, the red providing a splash of color without being too tacky. The receptionist closed the door behind her as Lenny took a seat.

“Thank you, Mr. Huxtable, for hiring me! I know that I haven’t done any personal assistant work before, but it can’t be too difficult, right?”

“Oh, Mr. Jones, I have a bunch of other people to do all my scut work for me. Did it ever cross your mind why the application only consisted of photos of yourself?”

“Well, sir, I thought it might have been a scam. But the promise of this salary and all those benefits just for sending in photos? How could I pass that up!”

“I have to assure you, Mr. Jones, it is not a scam. However, the job websites would not let me type in the real position: personal ass-istant, the ‘ass’ separated from the rest.”

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Faggot Father

Yeah, my father’s a fag. Likes it when men stick their dicks up his asshole. How fucking pathetic. But he’s still my dad, and as much as I hate thinking what he and his faggot buddies do when I’m not around, I’m glad he’s been there for me, especially after Mom died recently. He even came to my graduation, which was nice. I had moved out as soon as I legally could, to get away from him. But now the lease with my buddies was up, and I had to move back in with him.

I played football all four years of college. Didn’t want to go pro, but I kept in shape, and could have a pick of any of the girls on campus. I dated Roxy for some time, she had the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen on a chick, but when she found out I was cheating on her, she left me, days before graduation. So, you can see why I didn’t want to move back in with my faggot father, especially looking like this.

I would have normally brushed it off, but a few days after I moved back into my old room, I saw a DVD Dad had left lying about. It was a gay porno, which was fucking disgusting, but what was even more disgusting was that it was from some site called FamilyDick. It was so painfully obvious that this was some gay incest shit going on here. I placed the DVD case back down and decided not to talk to Dad about it. He could be a fag on his own time, but not with me.

And as for the reason why I had to move back home? Well, it’s because the job market’s dried up. I went to school for business, which is good and all, but most of the college aged kids living in town went to college for business too. They took all of the local jobs before I could even apply, and my stupid faggot father didn’t save up enough for me to move to a city like New York. So, I’m stuck here doing odds and ends for my neighbors, and temp online jobs that pay absolute shit. There aren’t even hot chicks to bang in town anymore! All of them moved away, and the MILFs are all faithful to their husbands now. What a load of bullshit, when you compare some of them to the god that is me!

I do have to admit, one good thing about living with Dad is that he buys and pays for all of our groceries. He goes like clockwork every Sunday morning, and I cherish the me time that I get. I’m a very vocal ejaculator, and I don’t really want my faggot father jerking off to the sounds of his son jerking off. So, I force myself to be quiet, except on Sunday mornings. It’s actually pretty fucking cathartic, if you ask me. I usually deal with my morning wood when I wake up, and then I hop in the shower.

Today was going to be slightly different, though. After weeks of searching, I finally found a hot chick in town! Kaia, such a hot name, was going to meet me for breakfast, and then we’d go on a walk through the park together. I won’t lie, I’ve fucked a few chicks in that park before, and I’m hoping Kaia can be added to that list. That meant I was walking out of the shower with another erection. I didn’t mind, as the door was supposed to be locked, and I can get it down quickly.

But what do we have here? My faggot father sniffing my dirty underwear, with a massive boner himself.

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Protect and Serv(ic)e

“We have received reports of an active shooter,” echoed the voice through Tyler’s earpiece.

“Sir, we need to get you to the closest saferoom,” said Tyler urgently, to his boss, Senator Pierce Kane. “Follow me.” Kane followed his head of security to an adjoining room, where he pressed on a panel in the wall. The wall slid away like in Scooby Doo, and Tyler escorted his boss into the room. It was a light shade of grey, and filled with absolutely nothing. No windows or anything really to separate walls from floor. There was a dim light source, but nothing else.

“What can I do?” Kane whispered to Tyler. Unlike most other senators, Pierce Kane could hold his weight. He was well-muscled and attractive. He was also one of the first openly gay senators, which made many women unhappy.

“Shut up, sir. We need absolute silence if we want to escape.”

“Then why don’t I suck on your dick?”

“Excuse me sir!?”

“I’m a really quiet cocksucker, and it will keep me from talking.”

“Okay, sir. If you think it will help.” Kane had been wanting to get into Tyler’s pants ever since he hired him. Unfortunately, a senator fucking his bodyguard was seen as inappropriate, and even so, Tyler was straight and married. Kane dropped to his knees and unzipped Tyler’s pants. He pulled them down ever so slightly, along with his briefs, to reveal a big black cock. Tyler moaned as his boss ran his fingers over it. As Kane began to stroke off his head of security, Tyler carefully unbuttoned his shirt, knowing that many gay men liked to play with nipples. The senator then placed his lips on Tyler’s cock for the first time, and the security guard moaned. Kane was still quite quiet, and was easily able to take all of his bodyguard’s cock. This went on for a few more minutes, the senator sucking and the head of security moaning.

After a cackle of static, another message came through Tyler’s earpiece.

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