Author: indieerotica

Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle

Andrew’s just turned twenty-one and he can legally drink. More exciting than that, though, is that he finally gets to find out just what goes on in his dad’s Man Cave in the basement. He and Uncle Robert spend so much time there and never allow Andrew to join them because, as his dad says, “You have to be twenty-one to enter.”

So with his birthday just passed and a case of beer in his hand, Andrew heads to the basement to finally join his dad and Uncle Robert in this most secretive of lairs. What he finds on the other side of the door, though, is a revelation more erotic than Andrew could have ever dreamed up.

To welcome Andrew to the Man Cave, his dad and uncle seduce him and show him just how amazing sex between men — sex between family — can be.

Tag-Teamed By My Dad And My Uncle is a 4,000-word short story.

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Excerpt

I pull into my driveway with a case of beer sitting in the passenger seat. I turned twenty-one yesterday and, to celebrate, my dad sent me out to buy beer. But to make it extra special, he invited me to hang out in his Man Cave with him and my uncle.

My heart thuds with anticipation as I turn off the car, grab the beer, and head to the house. Though dad had this Man Cave my whole life, I was never allowed to hang out in it. “This is a twenty-one and over room,” dad would always say.

I’ve seen glimpses of it now and then — wood panelling, a big TV and sound system, a leather couch, sports memorabilia, a pool table — but when dad wasn’t in there, he locked the door. I couldn’t even sate my curiosity by sneaking in when he was out of the house.

He’d always hang out in his Man Cave for hours on end with his brother, my Uncle Robert, and no one would be allowed to join them. Mom would always chuckle and say something like, “Boys will be boys,” and never question what happened in the Man Cave.

But I was always intensely curious. I was dying to know what went on in there, what they talked about, what they did — and now is my chance to finally find out. As I walk up the steps, I notice Uncle Robert’s car parked on the street. He must already be here, hanging out with dad in the mysterious Man Cave.

I enter the house and kick off my shoes. My mom gives me a smile as she heads out the door and says, “Have a good time with the big boys.”

As I descend the stairs with the case of beer in my hand, my heart is thudding against my ribs. I’m suddenly very nervous about what I’ll find on the other side of the door. As I reach the bottom of the stairs and approach the door, I can see a light coming from the crack beneath the door and I can hear some muffled noises, but I can’t make anything out.

I knock.

“That you, Andrew?” dad calls from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, dad. I brought the beer.”

“Come on in. Door’s open.”

I turn the knob, open the door, and walk in. I see the back of dad’s head as he’s sitting on the couch in front of me. The room is all in dark tones and there’s some soft music playing through the stereo system. Sports posters line the walls and shelves hold things like autographed sports balls and framed photos of dad and Uncle Robert on fishing trips.

“Where’s Uncle Robert?” I ask as I close the door behind me.

“He’s right here, son,” dad says, not turning to look back at me.

I walk around the couch and find Uncle Robert on his knees, sucking off dad. My jaw drops and the beer almost slips from my hand, but I tighten my grip before dropping the case. Uncle Robert glances at me, never taking dad’s thick cock from his mouth, and winks.

“What the fuck is going on?” I manage to say when I pull my wits about me to speak again.

“Have a seat, son,” dad says, and pats the couch next to him.

Not even knowing what I should do or how I should react, I slowly sit down next to him, watching his brother continue to suck him off. I watch in awe as this continues in front of me.

“Pass me a beer,” dad says, casually, as if he was just watching a football game.

Still not taking my eyes off dad’s cock and my uncle going down on it, I rip open the top of the box and pull out a can for dad. I pass it to him, he pops the top, and he takes a deep swallow.

“Does this…” I say, but then pause as I try to figure out what I want to ask. “Is this what you guys always do down here?”

“Not usually,” dad says. I don’t know if I should feel relieved or disappointed. I’ve been thinking more and more about guys and less about girls, and I’m innately drawn to the kinky. It was sort of hot thinking of this brotherly incestuous action going on in the house all the time. “Usually I’m balls-deep in your uncle’s ass.”

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Hypnotizing The Straight Hunk

When Jack comes to Coach Peters to talk about performance anxiety on the football field, Coach thinks there’s more than meets the eye. Specifically, he’s pretty certain that Jack is a closeted gay guy, battling with himself, and that’s holding him back in sports. Coach proposes a wild idea — hypnotism — as a way to relax and work past mental barriers. As soon as Jack is under, though, Coach’s devious libido takes over. Instead of working Jack through some relaxation exercises, he instead unlocks Jack’s closet door, letting the hunk’s wild gay lusts run free. What follows is a one-on-one session that Coach will never forget.

Hypnotizing The Straight Hunk is a 3,300-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Have you ever considered hypnotism?” I ask.

Jack, my star athlete, is laid out on the couch in my office. Even though I’m his football coach and not a psychologist, we’ve been meeting regularly to talk about the apparent lack of motivation he’d been feeling about the sport lately. Back when I was a high school gym teacher, I doubled as the school’s guidance counsellor — and those skills were coming in handy here at my new college position.

It had become clear to us pretty quickly that this wasn’t a matter of exam stress or some other temporary issue for Jack, but rather some deep-seated issue that was now surfacing.

Jack looks at me, eyes curious. “Would that help?”

“It can,” I answer. “Hypnotism can relax you and unlock any mental barriers you’ve got erected in your head.”

“And you can do this?” he asks. He sounds eager.

“It’s been a while, but yeah.” What I leave out is that I’ve never done hypnosis for therapeutic purposes. Back during my own years as a college student, I made some money as a magician for parties. It was mostly sleight of hand at kids’ parties, but when the occasional adult party gig happened, I always included some hypnotism. You know, the usual stuff, cluck like a chicken, bark like a dog.

“Okay,” Jack says. “Let’s do this. Put me under.”

“All right — lie back and get comfortable. Close your eyes.”

Jack does what I instruct and settles down. The leather couch groans softly under his bulk. Now that his eyes are closed, I take my chance to look at his magnificent body. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, nothing is left to the imagination. His arms and chest are big and bulky, his waist tapers and narrows, and he has a large bulge nestled between his thick thighs. My heart does a little pitter-patter and I feel my cock start to thicken.

I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand. Hypnotism.

“Listen to the sound of my voice,” I say, in soft and gentle tones. “My voice is the only thing you hear. My voice is the only thing that matters. My voice makes you calm. My voice makes you relaxed.” Jack lets out a sigh of comfort and seems to sink deeper into the couch. “As you focus on my voice, everything else falls away. Everything else disappears. All that’s left is my voice. My voice is the only thing you hear. My voice is the only thing that matters. When I count to three, you will feel totally and completely relaxed. You will respond only when I instruct you to. You will no longer be aware of your body. One. Two. Three.”

Right on cue, Jack lets out a long, slow sigh and he seems to almost melt into the couch with how relaxed his body is. I wait several long moments before moving or saying anything further, just watching Jack and seeing if he’s truly under. His breathing is very slow and steady and his body seems entirely still — no involuntary twitches, no restlessness, no sign that he’s conscious of the moment.

My cock grows hard as I watch him. It’s been a very long time since I’ve lusted over a man and I find myself developing impulses right now that I can’t follow through on. I’m his coach and nearly twenty years his senior — I can’t make my move on him. Plus, he’s straight.

But the devious voice in the back of my mind reminded me that he’s under my spell right now … that a little touch wouldn’t be bad. I could feel him — gently — and then move on with the hypnotism to dig into his subconscious. And then I can go home and jerk off and pretend this didn’t happen.

No, I can’t.

But I want to.

And I will.

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Watching Gay Porn With Dad

When Billy helps his father out with some computer problems, he quickly discovers what got his dad into trouble in the first place — he had been on a spammy gay porn site. Taking a risk and outing himself in the process, Billy sends his father to a better site for gay porn, one free of ads. But as he turns to leave and hopes to forget that any of this ever happened, his father asks him to stay, to enjoy the porn with him…

Watching Gay Porn With My Dad is a 3,600-word short story.

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Excerpt

I turn down the music on my laptop and listen to the noises in the house. It’s just dad and me at home, and I’m sure I heard him swearing.

Instead, what I hear is something like an alert siren, but it sounds tinny, like it’s coming from computer speakers. I chuckle to myself and get to my feet, leaving my anthropology homework behind. Dad probably got some noisy pop-up ad that he’s having trouble closing. He’s not good with technology.

I wander through the house until I find him. He’s in his room, sitting on the bed, with his laptop across his knees. He looks up at me, startled, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Need help, dad?” I ask, and start crossing the room to him.

“No,” he says, shaking his head franticly. “I’ll figure it out!”

I almost stumble when I see why he doesn’t want my help. His shorts and briefs are partway down his thighs and his hard, thick cock is laying across his lap.

“Uh…” I say, not able to put together words. I take in the sight of it — thick, veiny, dark, hard. It’s far bigger than mine. When I finally pull my gaze away from dad’s cock, I see his cheeks burning bright with shame. I probably look as red as him.

The only sound in the room, which is only barely overcoming the incredibly loud thudding of my heart, is the irritating shrill coming from the pop-up ad. Dad and I stare at each other for far too long.

Finally, he turns the laptop toward me, not bothering to pull his shorts up. “Can you get rid of this fucking thing?”

I nod, then get on my knees next to the bed. Though I try to focus solely on the laptop, I can’t help but glance at dad’s dick, only inches from my face. I try closing the pop-up, which I’m sure dad had attempted, and I was caught in an endless cycle of warnings, forcing the ad to stay open. It took a few moments of fiddling, but I managed to finally close the ad.

With the ad gone, I could see what dad had been looking at.

I never should’ve come in here.

Gay porn filled the screen.

An older man is fucking a younger man, his thick cock completely buried in the younger man’s smooth ass. I glance again at dad’s cock and feel my cheeks burning hot with a blush. Then I look over to the other side of the bed, mom’s side.

“You okay, son?” dad asks. His voice has a little quiver to it, like he’s as nervous as I am right now.

I bite my lip, trying to figure out what to say. Should I tell him what I really want to tell him? Fuck it. I’ll just do it.

“Let me show you a better site for gay porn,” I finally say.

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Drinking My Dad’s Piss

Charlie lives at home. He’s not in school and he doesn’t have a job. The only thing he does all day is sit around in his boxers and play video games.

His father has had enough of this. He feels it’s time for Charlie to grow up and move out. What he sees, though, is Charlie holding onto his childhood. And the symbol for that childhood is that pathetic blanket he’s had since he was a boy.

The only way to sever that bond to Charlie’s childhood is to piss all over it. Charlie, though, will do anything to save his blanket and hold onto his innocence — he’ll even swallow down his father’s piss so the blanket stays clean.

Drinking My Dad’s Piss is a 4,100-word short story.

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Excerpt

Dad stumbles in. I lose focus on the game, then pause it.

He’s drunk. I can tell by the way he’s leaning on the wall next to the door.

“It’s 11:36 in the morning,” he says. “You’re still playing games?”

I put the controller down, but stay belly-down on the blanket to hide my erection. “I did all my chores.”

“Your chores? Fuck.” He takes a step forward, staggers, then plants himself in a firm fighter stance. “You ran that vacuum over the carpet so fast it just moved the fucking cat hair around.”

“There’s so much cat hair, Dad. I can’t help it that he sheds so much.”

Dad takes a step toward my bed. “If you did more than play those fucking games all day you’d take a look and see there’s more you can do to help here. Or maybe it’s time for a job.”

“Dad, I want to take the summer off. We agreed I could take a break before I decide what I’m doing. It’s a big decision.”

“It’s September! All you’re doing every time I come in here is sitting on that blanket, playing those fucking games. You’re not a kid anymore. Time to grow up.”

He takes another step toward me. Now he’s standing right at the edge of the bed. He’s wearing his ratty jeans and tight gray t-shirt. He always looks rough and dirty, and today there’s dirt and sweat in his forearm hairs from working in the garden.

Dad’s never hit me before, but when he gets upset like this I’ve always been uncomfortable. Not that he’d ever hit me. I just don’t like it when I know he’s not happy with me.

“I’m not ready to get a job yet,” I tell him. “I’m reflecting on my life. You know, like they say you should.” The urge to piss comes again, and I hump down by instinct.

Dad notices. I can tell by the way he frowns. “You’re too attached to that blanket,” he says. “Sitting here, lying in your bed, doing nothing, it’s like you’re still ten and life is all fun and games. Maybe if you get rid of that thing…”

The thought of getting rid of my blanket causes me panic. “I’ll do more chores. Even look for a job, if I have to.”

“No.” Dad comes forward some more, leaning his thighs against the edge of the bed now. “That blanket was cute when you were a kid. But now keeping it around is a reminder that you’ve failed to grow up.”

I’m thinking of something to say, but that all goes to shit when Dad’s hands go to the button on his jeans and then he zips down his fly.

“Dad,” I protest. Quick as that, he flips his underwear down and pops his cock out. It’s semi-stiff, a good five inch shaft of thick meat.

I’m still in shock trying to figure out what the fuck he’s doing when the yellow stream starts flowing from his dick. Yellow. He’s pissing! He’s got his cock in one hand and he’s aiming it right at my blanket.

“What the fuck!” I scramble over a bit, but not completely off my blanket. Piss splatters against it in front of me, forming a puddle at the edge.

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Hypnotizing The Straight Jock

Chad wants revenge on the homophobic bully at college and he devises the perfect way to carry it out. Richard, the bully, lives in the room next door in the college dorms — there’s just a wall between the two of them — and every night Chad pulls up a hypno file on his computer and presses the speakers against the wall. When Richard finally confronts him again and is about to do something violent, Chad utters one simple word that has Richard frozen and mindless — and with a second word, Richard turns into an insatiable bottom.

Hypnotizing the Straight Jock is a 3,700-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Come on,” Alex says, “let’s get out of here.”

I catch a strong hint of nervousness in my friend’s voice. I look across the change room to where he’s doing his best not to stare, but still being obvious about it.

Richard saunters into the locker area from the showers, naked except for the goggles around his neck and his skimpy Speedo. Richard is the resident bully here at college — the jock who thinks he’s better than everyone for the simple fact that he’s a jock.

And what a jock he is. Though I detest the man, I take in his glorious body. His pecs are defined, his arms are corded with muscle, his abs are tight like a washboard, his legs are powerful, and that ass … that ass is divine. But I force myself to tear my eyes away. Richard is also a raging homophobe — and he knows that Alex and I are gay.

I quickly drop my pants, doing my best to change into my swim gear as fast as Alex is doing, hopefully fast enough that we can escape before Richard has a chance to utter a single epithet in our direction.

“Have you ever wanted to get back at him?” I murmur at Alex.

“What?” He sounds confused. “How do you mean?”

“I’ve been working on something. You know Alex’s dorm is next to mine, right? His bed is on the other side of the wall between us. Well, when he’s sleeping, I’ve been pressing my computer speakers against the wall—”

“Hey! Faggots!” Richard shouts at us and immediately starts walking our way. His face is contorted with both anger at who we are and glee at the torture he plans to put us through. “Who let you cocksuckers in here?”

“Let’s just go,” Alex says, grabbing his pants to pull them on over his swim shorts.

“No,” I say. I keep my eyes on Richard as he approaches, but in my peripheral vision, I can see Alex hesitate, unsure if he should keep getting changed or follow along with me. “You got a problem with us, Richard?”

Alex lets out a gasp, seemingly stunned that I would confront the bully like this.

“Fucking right I’ve got a problem, fag. I don’t want you pussies getting boned up for me. You should just go fuck each other and stay away from the pool. Seeing you here makes me want to fucking mess you up.” Richard’s words are laced with that same mix of anger and glee.

I don’t think he would actually hit us or harm us. I think he just likes intimidating others and we’re easy targets for his fragile ego.

But this is it — this is the moment I test if my weeks of careful planning and work have been successful. I take a deep breath and wait until Richard comes within spitting distance. God, he’s a gorgeous man. Seeing him this naked and this close is causing all the blood to drain from my head and gather in my dick. I need to keep my wits about me.

“You got something you wanna say to me, fag?” Richard says.

“Checkerboard.”

Richard looks at me like I’m speaking Russian. Other than that, nothing changes. Fuck, did it not work? Did my weeks of planning result in nothing? My heart races as panic sets in. Alex was right, we should have just gotten dressed and left.

“What?” Richard says. And in that moment, it’s like my heart stops. Maybe my plan didn’t fail. Maybe he honestly didn’t hear the trigger word.

“Checkerboard,” I say again, louder.

And a heartbeat later, it’s like a light flicks off in Richard’s head. The anger evaporates and so, too, does his intelligence. His eyes look vacant and all muscle tension seems to disappear from his body.

I poke him in the middle of the forehead, but nothing happens. He doesn’t react.

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Taking My Dad’s Hot Load

Colin is alone in his room and ready to jerk off to his favorite porn videos. Little does he realize, his dad has an important lesson to teach him about better ways he can pleasure himself. Colin has never thought of himself as gay or remotely interested in his dad, but when the offer is on, the thought of dad’s hot load on shooting on his chest is enough to make him cross the line into forbidden territory.

Taking My Dad’s Hot Load is a 4,500-word short story.

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Excerpt

I love coming, especially the moment before I know I’m gonna shoot it all over myself. I love the way it’s hot as it hits me and my cock tingles with every spurt. Stroking myself now and feeling the pleasure stir, I’m already excited about doing it again.

I pull my boxers down a little, enough to free my cock and wrap my hand around it. I click to another video of a guy banging a girl bent over on hands and knees. This is one of my favorites. I fast forward to 12:34, when he moans and then pulls out, beating off and blasting his load all over her pussy.

I’m kind of grossed out by pussy, but it doesn’t matter. When I see all that hot cum shooting from a stiff cock I get so excited about doing it myself. The guy in the video groans as his load finishes off and now I’ve got my boxers slipped right down to my thighs. I’m stroking my cock with a tight fist and it’s getting darker red.

I get into the rhythm of it, groaning as the pleasure builds, clicking to different feeds. My cock is turning beet red and I’m gonna blow my load, but I hold it back a bit, drawing out the sensations more and more.

The vacuum stops. The low audio sounds twice as loud and I notice how cold the air in the room is on my bare torso.

I’m so close. I’m not stopping. Fuck it, Dad never comes into my room anyway.

I click back on the video of the guy coming on the girl’s pussy, then jerk fast and hard. I fixate on his dick, the way it pumps all the juice out, the way the cum drips down her thighs, the way the guy’s butt is strong and full of hair. Oh God, yeah, I’m gonna shoot my load now. Fuck, it’s gonna shoot so hard and feel so good. Ohhh…

“What’s going on?” Dad’s voice, from behind me.

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Seduced By My Ex-Con Father

The last time Jason saw his father was when his father was being sentenced to jail. Now, eight years later, Jason is an adult and his father is home — and neither one really knows who the other person is anymore. What Jason does know, though, is that he hates this man who he once called “dad”.

But in a brief moment when his dad tries to connect with Jason as an adult, his dad takes a risk and makes a move on Jason. He shows his son the most important thing he learned while in jail all those years — how men make love.

Seduced By My Ex-Con Father is a 3,600-word short story.

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Excerpt

As I close the bathroom door and strip everything off, my mind is consumed with conflicted thoughts and emotions. Maybe a hot shower and going to bed early will calm my mind, and a good night’s rest will have me thinking clearer tomorrow.

I hear some footsteps going down the hall and I stare at the door, knowing who’s wandering around the second floor. With mom out at a movie with my aunt, those footsteps belong to my dad.

My dad … the ex-con.

Last time I saw him, I was ten. That was eight years ago. I don’t know him as an adult — and he doesn’t know me as an adult, either, I guess. To him, I was a little kid when he left. Right now, we’re strangers to each other.

I turn on the water and the bathroom starts to fill with steam. Again, I hear dad’s footsteps walking down the hall. I do my best to ignore the noise — to ignore him — and I step into the shower. I soap up and start scrubbing my athletic body and my long dick. I can’t help but think of my girlfriend right now — she loves my dick. It gets to places that no other man has reached in her. I start stroking, using the soap as lube to make it nice and slippery.

Just as I let out a soft moan of pleasure, I hear the bathroom door being opened and then the taps being turned on.

“Um … the bathroom is occupied,” I say. I don’t even bother to hide my annoyance.

The taps turn off. “Oh, right,” dad says. “Sorry … sorry. I’ve spent eight years in a place with no privacy.”

I sigh, but I try to keep it silent and just wait for him to go away. But he doesn’t.

I pull the curtain aside so I can glare at him. “Privacy. Please.” He’s shirtless, giving me a view of his muscular chest and colorful collection of tattoos. All he has on is a pair of loose sweatpants.

Dad looks at me with hurt eyes, but then his gaze travels south. I keep glaring at him, but then realize his sight is locked on something. I look down. Fuck — my long cock is sticking out from the side of the shower curtain. I quickly adjust the curtain so I’m covered again.

Then dad looks up at my face. “You know, son, I learned something in prison. Something I never thought I’d want to know. It changed my life.”

I sigh and still don’t bother to hide my annoyance. I realize dad is looking to connect with me, to bond as father and son, but this is the wrong time and the wrong place. He doesn’t move, so I take the bait and ask, “What was that?”

Dad comes closer and sits on the toilet next to the shower. He pulls aside the shower curtain, exposing my cock. “That sex between men is natural. And it feels good.”

Before I can protest and call him a pervert and throw him out of the bathroom, he latches his mouth onto my cock. And in that instant, his oral grip is far better than that of my girlfriend. My knees quiver and almost give out as dad slides his lips up my shaft, taking my cock deeper than anyone has ever done before. He ripples his tongue on the underside of my meat, sending quivers of pleasure through to my balls.

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Father Son Bondage

After Jake’s dad walks in on him masturbating to porn, he’s been living on the edge, never knowing what might come next. When his dad suddenly proposes a father and son camping trip, Jake is suspicious, especially since they haven’t gone camping since he was a kid. But as soon as they set up the tent and the campsite, his dad’s true intentions come out. Taking inspiration from the BDSM video Jake was watching, his dad has an intense BDSM scene planned out, to kick off the camping trip with some father and son bondage.

Father Son Bondage is a 3,600-word short story.

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Excerpt

Dad looks around the campsite with a grin, then his eyes settle on me. I suddenly feel hotter and a new burst of sweat peppers my forehead, but it has nothing to do with the oppressive August heat. He breaks our eye contact long enough to peel off his sweat-soaked shirt. Fuck. He’s hairy and muscular — just like the Dom in the video he caught me watching.

“Take off your shirt, son. It’s scorching,” he says.

Without a word, I do as he suggests, revealing my slim twink frame. My chest is smooth and hairless, tight and skinny, basically the complete opposite of dad. He leans down and opens the cooler, pulling out two cans of beer. He offers one to me.

“Seriously?” I say. While legally an adult, I’m still a couple years from drinking age. Mom and dad have always been strict on that.

“Yeah. It’ll be our secret.”

I take it from him, a surge of heat and eroticism passing between us as our fingertips briefly touch. I crack open the can and take a careful sip, the cold beer instantly cooling down my overheated body. I wince slightly at the bite of alcohol, but recover quickly and have a second sip.

“Take it slow,” dad says. “You should take it easy if this is your first one.” Then dad sets up our two lawn chairs, side by side, facing the woods, to where we can just see the glimmer of a lake through the trees. He sits in one of the chairs and pats the other one, beckoning me to join him.

I quickly sit next to him, our arms only inches from each other, and shift in my seat, struggling to hide the bulge in my shorts. Dad takes a sip of his beer and then rests his hand on his crotch — and that’s when I notice the massive bulge he’s sporting. My eyes almost bug out as I take in the sheer size of it. He catches me staring and I look back toward the lake, my cheeks burning hot.

I take another sip of beer — anything to avoid eye contact with dad. I can already feel it going to my head, making my thinking a little foggy. As I raise the can to take yet another sip, dad puts his hand on my arm.

“Don’t get drunk,” he says. “I have a question for you and I want you to be sober for your answer.”

I put the can down in the little holder in the armrest of my lawn chair. I can’t tell where this is going — I know it has something to do with him catching me jerking off, but beyond that, I don’t know. In the silence that passes between us, I finally look up at him. His eyes are serious, yet caring.

“Do you want my dick?” dad asks.

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Disciplined By My Dad And My Principal

Sam is in trouble at school. Even though he’s legally an adult and the school isn’t supposed to contact his parents, his dad gets called into the principal’s office. When his dad hears just how bad Sam has been, he decides to dole out the punishment right then and there, taking Sam over his knee for a spanking. At first, the principal tries to intervene, but soon, the punishment turns into a three man orgy — with Sam in the middle between his dad and his principal.

Disciplined By My Dad And My Principal is a 3,800-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Please, dad, let me fix it,” I beg.

Suddenly, he grabs the front of my shirt and holds it in his fist. “You can’t fix this, son,” he growls.

“Let’s keep this civil,” Mr. Marks interjects.

But dad doesn’t hear my principal. Dad’s eyes are boring into mine and I wither under his scrutiny.

“This calls for discipline,” dad says. Before I can figure out what he means and before Mr. Marks can stop dad, I’m pulled over dad’s knee and the back of my pants and briefs are pulled down below my ass.

I’m ass-up over dad’s knee in my principal’s office.

“Mr. Petersen!” my principal shouts.

Smack! Dad spanks me right as the principal throws himself to his feet. I squeeze my eyes shut and ride out the pain, until it dulls to a sting.

“Mr. Petersen — stop this right now!”

Dad growls ferociously, sounding more deadly than a grizzly bear. “This is what he needs. Do not question my parenting methods.”

Dad’s anger seems to have quieted the principal. He settles down, sitting on the edge of his desk. I turn my head to glance up at him and he looks me with pity in his eyes, but then I see his gaze run down my body and settle on my smooth, exposed, round ass … and then his eyes widen with desire.

Fuck. I’m fucked.

Maybe I’ll get fucked, the very dirty part of my mind wonders. I shove that perverted thought aside right as dad brings his hand down on my ass again.

Smack!

Dad spanks me several more times — each slap stinging more than the one before. My ass feels like it’s on fire, like each new spank is a fiery hot brand being applied to my ass. I shout in pain until dad commands me to shut up and I’m forced to bite my lip to stop from screaming. Tears are falling from my eyes.

Then dad stops and I hear him panting, seeming to be out of breath from the vigorous punishment.

“Your turn,” he growls.

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Dominated By Dad

Peter’s worst nightmare just happened — his father found the dad/son BDSM porn on his laptop. But when he expects a confrontation that’ll end with him being kicked out, he is instead faced with his hottest fantasy. His dad wants him to submit. Still believing this is some sort of ploy, an act of entrapment, Peter takes the greatest risk by uttering two simple words … “Yes, Sir.” But with the greatest risk comes the greatest reward, as virginal Peter gains his first sexual experience at the hands of a very talented Dom — his father.

Dominated By Dad is a 4,000-word short story.

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Excerpt

“Peter!” Dad’s voice, shouting from across the house, chills me to the bone. Last time I’d heard that tone of voice was when I came home with a couple of Fs on my report card. “What the fuck is this?”

I hurry down the stairs and find him in the living room, on the couch, with my laptop on his thighs. Oh, fuck, did I leave something open? I usually cover my tracks with porn and shit, but I’m always terrified that one day I’m going to forget and something like this will happen.

“Uh…” I say, struggling for words. “Yeah, dad?”

He looks up at me with angry eyes and a flushed face, framed by that luscious beard that I fantasize about at all the wrong times. I push that thought out of my mind — I don’t need dirty thoughts about my dad, especially not right now. His massive biceps shift as he turns the laptop to face me.

“Explain this,” he says.

I can feel my face heating with a deep blush as I see what I most fear on the laptop screen — a muscular daddy-type, very much resembling my dad, dressed in leather, flogging a twink that looks very much like me, who’s chained, cuffed, and bent over a padded bench.

“I, uh…” I lose my words again. I can’t look at dad’s face and I can’t look at the screen anymore, so I just look down at my feet. I guess it’s time to come out. “Dad, I’m gay.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “No shit, Peter. But I’ve known that for years.” He puts the laptop aside and stands up, coming close to me. The dirtiest parts of my brain focus my gaze on his bulge as he approaches. Since I’ve got my head down, he can’t catch my staring and wondering. “What I want to know is what you’re jerking off to.”

My eyes go wide and I finally look up at dad. He’s several inches taller than me and towers over me like a wall made of pure muscle. “Uh…”

“Because if you’re jerking off to dad/son BDSM porn, then I’ve got to teach you a lesson.”

I open my mouth to say something, but am still at a loss for words, so I close it, then open it again, then decide to close it again. I must look like a fish, struggling for air. “What?” I finally say.

Faster than lightning, dad has his hand gripping my throat and he shoves me back against the wall. My head bounces and a flash of pain makes me close my eyes for a moment. When I open them again, dad’s face is in mine, his hot breath washing over me, his eyes inches from mine, his pouty lips so tantalizingly close. While his hand on my throat is tight and holds me in place, it in no way restricts my breathing.

“All that shit,” dad says with a nod of his head toward my laptop, “is make-believe. There’s nothing better than the real thing.”

“Uh … what?”

With his other hand, dad gropes my crotch, his fingers clasping around my suddenly-raging erection, contained by denim and cotton. “Is this what you want, boy? Do you want your daddy to dominate you?”

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