Welcome to Camp Wannakukka! A special place for fathers and their sons. Camp Wannakukka provides a safe, relaxing environment for men who wish to bond with their young sons in a very unique and permanent way. At Camp Wannakukka, we hope that the bonds forged here will last a lifetime.
Theo’s Dad thought he and his son had a good relationship. He thought coming to Camp Wannakukka would deepen that bond. Things are certainly different between them now, but not in the way Dad expected. All things must come to an end, however. Their time at camp is over. Theo’s father is looking forward to going home. He’s hoping that everything will go back to normal.
“Normal” is a state of mind, though, and whether Theo’s Dad realizes it or not, he and his son’s relationship can never go back to the way it used to be.
This is a 5,400 word short story and part 12 of a 12-part series.
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“Fuck me, Daddy!”
I could hear my son screaming from the other side of the door. The bed springs creaked so loudly that they may as well have been crying out too. A steady banging had been going on for the last half-hour as well. That was the headboard hitting the wall, of course.
I really hoped the camp wasn’t going to stick me with a repair bill for any damages.
“More! More!” my son wailed. “Oh god, please! More!”
The sound of the headboard and the creaking bed springs intensified. My son’s Bull was really picking up the pace now. Theo’s shouts had dissolved into moans and whimpers. The Bull, by contrast, was making the same deep, guttural moans I’d been hearing for the last several minutes.
True, they had increased in tempo, same with his thrust. The noises, though, were the same: savage and primal, like something from a lost age. Those rough grunts echoed off the wall and through the door, letting me know just what kind of a pounding Theo was getting.
“Deeper!” Theo wailed. “Please, more!”
I was betting the neighborhood knew as well. Theo complained that the room got too hot after a while, even though we had the cabin’s central air set on frigid. Despite my protests, my son kept opening the window before he and the Bull began their marathon fuck sessions. That meant the whole neighborhood got to hear my son get the railing of his life.
“Little faggot pussy!” the Bull snarled suddenly, breaking the monotony of his growling. “You ain’t gonna forget this one anytime soon!”
I really hated that man. Everything had been perfect before he showed up in our lives.