Daddy's Boy

By MCBrain published April 18, 2016
Jake gets a new Daddy

This story was commissioned and paid for.


Jake woke up groggily, head pounding. Fuck he must’ve had too much to drink last night. He tried to raise his arm to rub his head, but couldn’t.

Weird. Jake blinked, vision blurry, looking down at his wrists. His head was killing him, so he didn’t move it, just glanced down with his eyes. He was sitting in a chair, he could tell that much, and when he tried to move his arm, it wouldn’t…

He jerked at his arm one more time, trying to make sense of what his blurry vision was telling him. His arm did move, a little, but not much, like he was…like it was…

Like it was strapped down onto the seat.

Jake’s eyes snapped open, his body suddenly pumping with adrenaline and panic, as he tried to free himself from the chair. It was no use, his arms and legs were tightly bound to the large metallic chair. He could feel something large and heavy on his head, pressing down on him, making his headache worse.

After a while, Jake realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. Panting, he relaxed his body.

Focus, Jake, he thought to himself, closing his eyes, What can you do?

Jake opened his eyes, and tested his bonds. His arms and legs were bound to the chair in some metal-like cuffs, and a leather belt was secured around his broad chest and six-pack. He also realized that he actually couldn’t move his head, only his eyes.

In front of him was a mirror, reflecting Jake’s reality back at him. The top of Jake’s head was inside some sort of semi-circle helmet, with wires sticking out of it reaching all the way up to the ceiling. There were wires attached to his body too, on his chest, face, nipples, legs, cock. It looked like Jake was hooked up to some mad scientist’s jerkoff fantasy.

There was nothing else in the room, just him in the chair, with the mirror on the far wall. Jake supposed that the door was behind him, but he couldn’t see it. Jake decided to focus on the mirror.

“Is someone there?” he called out, “Hello?”

“What is your name?”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere, all around, and inside his head too. Jake flinched, then shuddered.

“What is your name?”

“J-Jake,” he replied.

The pounding in Jake’s head lessened slightly, and Jake got the impression that the person asking questions was happy.

“How old are you?”

The questions went on, asking Jake about his age, weight, height, hair colour, physical appearance, basically. Jake didn’t understand the point to the questions; he assumed that there was someone behind the mirror, looking at him. If they were there, watching him, why were they asking him questions?

“Do you have a job?”

“I’m a barista at a coffee shop.”



An unpleasant shock ran through Jake’s body, but only for a moment. He sat there, panting, head starting to throb again.

“Do you have a job?”

“I told you, I’m a barista at a coffee shop!”



The shock was stronger this time, running from his skull to his toes.

“Do you have a job”



“Do you have a job?”



Jake’s head was throbbing, his body aching now. He didn’t know what the machine, or the people that controlled the machine, wanted from him. Didn’t they want the truth?

“Do you have a job?”


A soothing, bubbly feeling rose up through Jake’s body, clearing it of pain. Jake sighed, his head once again, not pounding.

“Good boy,” said the voice, echoing inside Jake’s skull, “Always tell the truth.”

An image of a man popped into Jake’s head. He was old, but not too old, refined looking, wearing an expensive suit and watch. Jake frowned. He hadn’t told the truth. He said that he didn’t work, but he did. He was a barista at a coffee shop.

What where these people trying to do?


All the days were pretty much the same here, and they were starting to melt together. He sat in the chair, woke up, answered some questions, and fell asleep again. He decided to count the days by one session of being awake.

Jake figured out pretty quickly that the machine didn’t want Jake to tell the truth, despite its claims at the end of each session. On the second day, it asked if Jake had any siblings, to which he replied truthfully. After a few agonizing zaps, Jake said that he didn’t have any, which was apparently the right answer. The machine stopped zapping him, and gave him that good, bubbly, pink feeling again, while showing the picture of that same man. Jake loved that feeling, but it came at a cost. Every time Jake acquiesced to the machine’s wishes it made him feel dirty, like he was betraying his morals in some way.

That just made him hornier.

Jake supposed it was the combination of the pink feeling, and the dirty feeling of lying. That and the fact that he hadn’t gotten off in about…three days? Four days? Jake couldn’t help it, even if he was getting horny from some old guy in his head. Jake began to feel comfortable in the chair, just sitting there. He did wonder, however, how he didn’t feel hungry. Were they feeding him while he slept? Maybe one of these wires was some kind of IV drip that fed him? Not to mention, as far as he knew, he hadn’t shaved since he got here, yet his 5 o’clock shadow didn’t seem to have grown.

Who had taken him?

The past few days, when he hadn’t been answering questions (the machine left him alone for a few hours sometimes, before making him fall asleep again) Jake thought back to the day before he had been captured. The images were fuzzy and incoherent, like a bad dream. He vaguely remembered a bar of some sort, somewhere he used to go a lot to…to…

He went there to meet with someone. Someone important.

“What is your name?”

The questions always began the same way, asking about his appearance, how long he usually went to the gym, stuff like that. This part was always easy, he just had to tell the truth. As he answered the questions, he noticed the parts of his body they were asking about in the mirror in front of him.

“How large is your cock?”

“6 in soft, 8 hard.”

A warm pleasant feeling.

Then, the questions from the days before. The machine always asked the same questions as the days before, as if to refresh the answers. Jake recited the answers that had been fed to him. He knew that they weren’t true, but it was better than being zapped. Plus, he liked the pink feeling, and the old man in his head telling him he was a good boy.

“Are you in a relationship with someone?”

Jake frowned. Relationship…yes. He was. His heart pound faster as he remembered, he was at the bar to meet his girlfriend! His girlfriend…Stacy! How had he forgotten about her?


Jake hadn’t even answered the question, as the shock ran through his body.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”



“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No!” Jake yelled without thinking.

Pleasant, pink. The man appeared in his head again, smiling.

“Good boy,” he said, “Good boys don’t lie.”

And with that, he disappeared.

Jake was panting, panting hard. Stacy, that was her name. He had to remember Stacy. Stacy.

Jake finally realized what this place was trying to do. It was trying to make him forget things, change him. He realized with horror that he had been letting them, repeating their answers, letting them know more about him.

That was it. He was taking a stand now. He wasn’t going to let these people change him. He was going to fight.


Jake woke up because his legs were moving.

It wasn’t because Jake was moving them. The seat was spreading them apart.


Jake felt part of the seat under him give way, a small hole directly under Jake’s asshole. He felt something press up against the hole, wet.

“Oh, hell no!” Jake said, squirming in his seat.

“This hole is Daddy’s hole,” said the man, appearing in his mind, “Daddy uses it when he wants.”

“Fuck no!”

ZAP! Jake’s body spasmed as the pressure on his asshole grew. The wetness of the…thing…rubbed off on his crack and hole, lubing him up.

Jake felt his cock grow. He couldn’t help it. He literally couldn’t remember the last time he got off, and the voice made him horny.

“Look at the spiral,” said man’s voice.

Jake looked ahead of him. Instead of the usual mirror, there was a spiral. It swirled and swirled around, capturing his attention like little else. He felt pulled into it, like it was drawing him in…

Jake closed his eyes.

“Look at the spiral, Jake,” said the man.

It was strange, Jake realized, that the man’s image in his head never moved. It was like a picture, actually, with the man speaking over it.

“Be a good boy, and look at the spiral.”

Jake didn’t want to, but he was a good boy. Jake wanted the truth, and good boys tell the truth.


He felt something slide slowly into his asshole.

“Ah!” Jake gasped, opening his eyes. The spiral hit his sight immediately, drawing him in. Jake went slack-jawed.

Jake didn’t know how long the wet dildo pounded him, or how long he stared at the spiral before cumming harder than he ever had.

DAY 12

“Who am I?”

Da-The old man was in his head, speaking. Jake grit his teeth.


The pain was unbearable; Jake screamed.

“Who am I?”

The voice was never demanding, never showed a hint of emotion, unless Jake gave an answer. He figured this out on day 6.

Jake’s rebellion wasn’t going as well as he hoped. Every time he gave the wrong ans- the truth, the machine would zap him until he gave the right answer. Jake tried to get around it by not answering, but the machine would zap him if he took too long without answering.

And it didn’t give up until it got the answer it wanted. Jake knew it was doing everything it could to get him to answer correctly when the old man appeared, disappointed. Before, the old man only ever appeared when he answered correctly, to reward him with pink feelings. Now, the old man would also show up to zap him when he answered wro- truthfully.

Truthfully, not wrong, Jake reminded himself, they answers they want are the wrong ones.


“Who am I?”

He knew the answer they wanted. They had given it to him before.

Stacy. He needed to think about Stacy.


“Who am I?”

That was something new too. Whenever Jake thought about Sta-


“Who am I?”

…whenever Jake thought about…her…the machine would zap him. He knew it was because they didn’t want him to remember her. That’s why they were zapping him. She wasn’t zapping him, it was the machine, Stacy would never-


“Who am I?”

“Father!” Jake gasped, hoping it was enough. This man is not my father, Jake thought to himself. Nothing for a moment.


“Who am I?”

Jake could barely hold it together anymore. If Stacy were here-


“Who am I?”

“Daddy!” Jake yelled automatically, wishing for the pain to stop.

Pink again. Dadd- the man was smiling.

“Good boy,” he said, making Jake feel so good despite himself, “Good boys tell the truth.”

“Good boys tell the truth,” Jake mumbled. Yes, the truth is that you are not my father.

“Daddy knows best.”

“…Daddy…knows best,” said Jake, begrudgingly. He had enough pain for one night.

He wished Sta- she was here. She always knew how to make him feel better. She could also probably work this massive hard on he had right now.

Jake steeled himself. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he was going to beat the machine.

He felt his legs open, and he groaned.

“You disappointed Daddy,” said the voice, “Therefore…?”

“I need to make it up to him,” said Jake wearily, “with my body.”

“Good boy.”

Jake moaned involuntarily, cocky twitching, as the dildo slid in, and the spiral started.

DAY 21

Jake was finding it harder to think.

Not just about her, but about anything in general. He had to remember. He had to remember the stuff from before…before what? Time had lost all meaning here.

From before this, Jake told himself, before the chair.

Jake had to remember. His name was Jake. He worked…did he work? No, the machine said he didn’t work, so he did work. Somewhere. The machine was bad. Why was the machine bad again? Because it zapped him. But it didn’t always. It sometimes made him feel good.

No, that was Daddy that made him feel good. Jake had decided to call him by that name, because that was what it was; a name. It wasn’t his real father, who he had lived with in their…house? Mansion? Jake struggled to remember what his real father was like. He was old…and had salt-and-pepper hair…kinda like Daddy, actually.

No! Not like Daddy. Daddy was bad. Daddy wanted him to change, which was bad. Daddy wanted…Daddy wanted…

Daddy wanted him to tell the truth. No! Daddy wanted him to give the correct answer, which wasn’t the truth! Jake sighed with relief. He remembered why Daddy was bad. He was bad because…what was it again?

Jake was aware that he was changing, that it was getting harder for him to think, and remember. It was probably all the zaps; they were making him forget things. Things like her and…and…

“Do you work?”


It was the answer they wanted, but it was also technically true. He didn’t work anymore. He just sat here and answered questions. Jake was also starting to believe that he had never actually worked. Why would he, when all he had to do was sit here, and let Daddy make him feel good? No! He had to remember, he had to remember, because…because…

“Good boy,” said Daddy, making Jake feel good. Jake smiled involuntarily.

“Good boys tell the truth.”

Yes. Jake wanted to truth. Jake was a good boy.

“Daddy knows best.”

“Daddy knows best,” repeated Jake, sighing contently, his hard cock twitching.

DAY 35

Jake woke up, and was confused.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and was…confused. Something was different about himself, but he just…couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What is your name?”


Jake smiled as he felt bubbly and pink again. Daddy smiled at him.

“Do you have any siblings?”


“Do you work?”


“Do you have a job?”


“Are you studying?”



“Because it’s not fun. I’m all about having fun,” said Jake, repeating the lines fed to him.

“What is your father’s name?”

“Umm…” Jake tried to remember this one. It was hard.

“…Daddy?” “Good boy,” said Daddy, making Jake feel good again. Jake smiled vacantly, cock throbbing.

“What colour is your hair?”

Jake frowned. He looked at the mirror.

“…blond?” said Jake tentatively.

Bubbly and pink. Yes! Jake got it right!

“Good boy,” said Daddy, “Good boys always tell the truth.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Jake, getting hard. He couldn’t help it. Daddy made him hard. Jake was still straight, he knew that, it was just that Daddy had a way of making him feel good. Jake supposed that it was because Daddy knew what was best for Jake, and being horny was good for Jake.

“But it wasn’t always blond, was it?”

Jake’s eyes lit up. For some reason, this made him feel very happy, but he couldn’t exactly remember why.

“It was brown before, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Yes, his hair had been brown before! That was it. Jake was happy, because Daddy remembered what it was like before. Jake thought that Daddy was bad before, because Daddy couldn’t remember things that happened before.

“Why did you change it?”

Jake frowned. He changed his hair? He didn’t remember that.

Then again, Jake knew he didn’t remember a lot of things. Like, why did he not like Daddy before? It wasn’t Daddy’s fault for not remembering things. Just like it wasn’t his own fault for not remembering.

“I don’t remember,” said Jake, truthfully.

“You changed it because Daddy likes it blond,” said Daddy.

Jake tried to nod in his restrictive helmet.

“Daddy knows best.”

“Good boy,” said Daddy.

DAY 42

“Test time,” said Daddy.

Jake grinned. He liked test time. He hoped he got all the answers right this time.

The machine spread his legs and started to fuck Jake. He moaned as his cock twitched in the seat, eyes unfocusing.

“What is your name?”


“Where do you live?”

“North Shore Sydney!”

“Who do you live with?”

“I! Live with..Daddy!”

“Do you have a job?”


“Why not?”

“Because…Daddy…gets me…what! I! Want!”

“Is this man your Daddy?”

A picture of a vaguely familiar man showed up on screen.

“No!” said Jake. He remembered this one from the last test.

“Is that your Daddy?”

A picture of Daddy appeared, in a suit. “Yes!”

Pink and bubbly. Jake moaned.

“Why did you dye your hair?”

“Because Daddy wanted me to!”

“Why did you pierce your nipples?”

“Daddy likes them sensitive!”

“Why did you pierce your cock?”

Jake’s Price Albert piercing shone in the light as his hard cock flopped up and down.

“Because! Daddy! Likes it…like…that!”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Jake frowned. He had never gotten this far in the test before. He wanted to get full marks.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It had been a long time since Daddy asked this question. Jake had vague memories of…someone…a name…

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Y…” Jake hesitated, “N-no?”

“Good boy.”

Jakes eyes rolled to the back of his head, and came his brains out.

DAY 50

“Jake! Jake, wake up!”

Jake woke up groggily, head pounding. Fuck he must’ve had too much to drink last night. He could feel the sun on his skin, his hard cock stiff in his speedo. He figured he must still be on the yatch, after a night of hellish partying.

Jake opened his eyes, and saw his dad, in a business suit, looking down at him disapprovingly. Mara, his dad’s personal assistant, was also there.

“It’s almost noon, and all you’ve done is laze around on the deck!” Daddy shouted, “You said you would look for a job today!”

Jake groaned, and covered his eyes. The sun was too bright, and his head was pounding. How did his dad get here?

Jake’s dad tutted. Jake rolled his eyes.

“Sorry dad,” he mumbled, “Just…maybe tomorrow. Head is killing me.”

And he was horny. Damn, he didn’t want to jack off in front of his dad. Unless…

He stared at his dad’s crotch, and could see that his father was getting hard.

“Tomorrow?” Daddy scoffed, “That’s what you said yesterday.”

“I know,” said Jake, tearing his eyes away from his dad’s crotch. He was straight. He fucked girls. But there had always just been something about his dad…

Jake saw his dad sigh, disappointed. Jake’s heart started to beat faster.

“Disappointing,” said Daddy, shooing his assistant away, “I’m gonna have to cancel my 1 o’clock to straighten you out.”

Jake groaned, as if disappointed, but inside, his heart skipped a beat with excitement.

“Just one reminder, Mr. Edgeworth,” said Mara, “You have to attend the Fundrasing Gala tonight, at 8.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” said Edgeworth, unzipping his fly. Mara left the boat, disappointed that she would not be joining in her bosses activities with his son. Jake took his dad’s thickening cock, and started rubbing it. He put his mouth against the head, licking it, sucking slightly. His dad said nothing, just watched him.

Jake got on his knees, and started to take the cock deep inside his mouth. With one hand, he kept his dad’s dick steady, as the other hand crept down to bright blue speedo, and started to play with his own hardening cock.

Soon, Jake had all his dad’s 10 inches down his throat, sucking like a pro. He looked up at his dad, who simply nodded.

Jake got up, and bent over, holding onto the railing for support. His speedo was halfway down his calves as he spread his legs, pushing his ass out for his dad.

His dad took out a bottle of lube, and wet his cock with it, then his son’s asshole. Then, not wasting any time by taking clothes off or anything, he slammed his cock into his son’s waiting hole.


The senior Edgeworth clamped a hand around his son’s mouth.

“We’re on the docks, boy!” he hissed, “Quiet!”

He kept his hand on his boy’s mouth as he fucked his ass.

DAY 53

Peter Edgeworth had always wanted a son. However, when his wife Amanda, the love of his life died before they could have any, Peter realized that the only person he wanted to have a child with, just died.

So he did the normal thing rich people did, and adopted. However, the kids he brought back from Africa and Thailand never filled the hole left there by Amanda. He realized that this was because having children had been their dream, as in their dream together. He didn’t want to do it, unless it was with Amanda.

However, as his adopted children grew, and the hole in Peter’s heart left unfilled, he found himself wanting more out of the relationship with these children. He began to fantasise about them, having them do things that only his wife had done to him before. He started to blur the lines between his wife and their dreams, and began lusting after his adopted children.

But he knew he couldn’t let that happen to them. These children were from war-torn and terrible countries; he knew intellectually, that morally, he couldn’t subject them to sexual abuse. Peter was torn with what he should do. He had been contemplating his options at a coffee shop on Circular Quay, when he noticed the barista serving him. A handsome, surfer looking specimen named Jake. A solution to his problem popped into Peter’s head. He grinned as the barista called his name.

Peter decided to do what any other rich people did in a sticky situation. He threw money at the problem.

There had always been rumours of a company that had products one couldn’t get from anywhere else. The company had a very selective clientele, among only the extremely rich. Lucky for Peter Edgeworth, he was one of those extremely rich.

He decided to sell his adopted children to the company, wipe their minds, have them be a part of the company’s stock. Then, he asked them, with a large stack of money, to make Jake the Barista, into Jake, son of Peter Edgeworth.

Peter knew exactly how he wanted his “son,” to turn out; entitled, lazy, and most of all, addicted to his daddy’s cock, despite being straight. Peter wanted his son to be his, and his alone; a good work ethic would make him too ambitious.

He contemplated the company’s good work as sat in his high-rise office, gazing at the city, his son sucking his cock.

“Yes, he seems to be working exactly as I wanted,” said Peter, on the phone. Jake ignored his dad’s words, he was focused on sucking the hard dick.

“There is sometimes a relapse, in the first few days,” said the man on the other end, “If nothing happens in that time, it should hold for the rest of his life.”

“Good,” said Peter, “I will be sure to contact you again if I need anything else. I am very happy with the end product.”

Jake stopped sucking his dad’s cock.

“Can I get your permission already?” he asked, “I wanna go out!”

Peter motioned for Jake to turn around. Jake complied, pulled down his pants and underwear, and lowered himself onto his dad’s cock.

Mmmmm, Peter loved the feeling of his son’s tight hole around his long, hard cock.

“Of course,” said the man on the other end of the phone, “And if we need anything, we will come to you.”

The line went dead, and Peter started to fuck his son in earnest.

It was amazing how quickly Peter got attatched to his new son. Jake was everything he ever wanted, sexually and to raise. He loved him, the way he looked up at him when he was sucking him off, the way he moaned when he was bouncing on his cock…

“Unh! Hunh! Urgh!” Jake’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came for the third time that day. Watching his son’s load burst from that pierced cock was also enough for Peter. He exploded in his son’s ass, filling him with white, hot, love.

Or as Peter liked to call it, “permission”.

“Alright,” said Peter, as his son panted, still on his dick, “You have my permission. You can go.” Jake grunted as he got off his dad’s cock, and pulled up his pants.

“But be at the gala on time. Dressed well!” Peter called out as his son left. Jake just waved it off. “Yeah, whatever.”

“And so, we are here tonight to raise funds for Liberal’s new campaign against same-sex marriage…”

Peter tuned the speaker out. He was anxious, worried. Jake hadn’t gotten here yet. Damn that boy, he said he would be here on time…

It wasn’t that Peter was worried Jake had reverted. Well, okay, maybe a little. But it was overshadowed by the bigger worry that something had happened to that boy. Peter knew the kid was entitled, he explicitly asked to have that programmed in him. He did it so that Jake would rely on him, instead of anyone else. The thing was, other people, poorer people, could take advantage of that entitlement.

As Peter scanned the crowd for the umpteenth time, he was relieved when he finally saw his son enter the room. The feeling quickly turned to dismay, then anger as he realized what his son was wearing. A tank top with no sides, low slung basketball shorts, and a cap turned backwards! At a charity gala, for Liberal party’s new campaign!

As the speaker ended his speech, and people started clapping, Peter hurried over to his son, before anyone could get to talk to him.

Too late! Jake approached a young woman, saying something to her. Peter saw her raise an eyebrow, then say something back.

“At least, that’s what I think.”

“Jake!” said Peter, forcing a grin, “Could you come along with me now?”

“Who do we have here?” said a voice behind Peter. Peter’s heart sank.

He turned to find his business rival, Terrence Towler, the man who organised this event.. Peter forced a smile.

“Terrence! It’s been a while,” he said.

“I see your son has met my daughter, Nika,” said Terrence, nodding at his daughter. Nika gave Jake one last look of annoyance, and went over to her father’s side.

“That’s cool,” said Jake, “I can wait.”

Terrence raised an eyebrow at Jake, then gave Peter a look, and left.

Peter turned to Jake, fuming.

“Bathroom, now.”

Jake obeyed his father, wondering what he did wrong as he walked over to the bathrooms. He realized his mistake as they walked into one of the men’s rooms.

The bathroom was separated into stalls, which were all basically private rooms with toilets in them. An attendant stood to attention outside the stalls. Jake and his dad walked past the attendant, and into one of the stalls.

“Sorry,” said Jake, “I forgot about the clothes thing.”

He really didn’t mean to forget. He had just been…busy. Trying to get laid.

“Where were you?”

His dad walked slowly towards his son. Jake gulped, getting hard, despite himself.

“J-just…y’know,” he said, “Out.”

“Where you with girls?” Peter asked.

Jake knew this was a sore subject…but…

“Yeah,” he said. Good boys tell the truth.

Peter looked furious. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and went over to the toilet. He put the seat down on, and sat on it, unzipping his fly.

“Turn around, and show me,” he ordered his son. Jake could tell his dad was mad, and did as ordered.

Jake turned around, and lifted his shirt, revealing his bubble butt cupped in a red and yellow jockstrap. Jake always kept his shorts below his ass; it was just his style.

“Take it off,” said Peter, “and get me hard.”

Jake turned around, and took his shirt off, revealing chest and abs. He got down to his knees, and started sucking his dad’s cock.

Once it was hard enough, Peter ordered his son to sit on his cock.

“But I’m not lubed-”

“Now, boy!”

Jake obeyed. He positioned himself above his dad’s cock, and lowered his ass onto the thick, hard, shaft.


His dad’s cock entered roughly, but Jake could feel his own cock swelling inside his jockstrap. Peter slapped his son’s ass as he lowered himself.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Jake,” his dad said softly. Jake felt horrible. He let his dad down.

“You made me worry, Jake,” he said.

“I’m…sorry, dad,” said Jake, feeling his ass cheeks touch his dad’s trousered thighs, “I’m sorry…I…disappointed you.”

Peter slapped his son’s ass, making Jake gasp.

“Oh, you will be sorry, boy,” said Peter, leaning in. He grabbed his son’s ass and forced the rest of himself inside his son.

“Ah!” moaned Jake, cock stiffening further in his jockstrap. Peter started to fuck his son slowly, rubbing against that sweet spot deep within Jake’s ass. He also started to pull at Jake’s nipple ring, making him gasp and groan. Jake felt his dick bursting in his jockstrap, his Prince Albert rubbing against the fabric.

“Will you disappoint me again?” growled Peter, “Will you embarrass me like that again?”

“N-No! Daddy!” groaned Jake, “P-please!”

“I ought to punish you for being such a bad boy.”

“Y-yes, Daddy! Punish me!”

“Oh? You think you deserve to be punished?”

“I w-was…a bad…boy…Daddy!” moaned Jake, “P-please…use…me!”

At that, Peter pulled on Jake’s nipple rings harder, making him moan and shudder. With his other hand, Peter reached into his son’s jockstrap, and started flicking his PA. Jake’s entire body shuddered.

“Does it hurt?” Peter growled.

“Y-yes! Daddy!”

Peter started to fuck his son harder.

“Then why are you hard?”

“Y-your! Cock! Sir!” Jake gasped, “Too! Good!”

“You’re just a slut, aren’t you boy?” growled Peter, “A slut for his daddy.”

“Y-yes! Daddy!”

“Good,” he whispered, pulling the nipple ring.


Jake howled, pain and pleasure coursing through his body. His dick was so hard, he was fucking himself on his Daddy’s long pole. He pulled his knees up, shorts falling to the floor, to let his Daddy in deeper. Peter slapped his son’s ass once more, then grabbed his hips and started fucking him deeper and harder.


“Have you learnt your lesson, boy?”

“Y-yes! Sir!”


“You gonna embarrass me again?”

“N-No! Sir!”


“You’re just a little daddy’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes! Sir!”


“You don’t fuck chicks,” growled Peter, “you get fucked by me!”

“Y-yes! Daddy!”


“Who fucks you?”

“You! Daddy!”


Peter couldn’t take it anymore, Jake’s moaning voice, his words, his tight hole bouncing on his hard cock. He exploded inside his son, which was more that Jake could take.


Jake came through his jockstrap, just as his ass filled with his dad’s hot love. Jake’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth lolled open, legs twitching with orgasm. He gasped, then leaned forward, sweating, trying not to ruin his Daddy’s suit.

Jake got off his dad’s cock, and kneeled down in front of him, laying his head on his thighs, eyes closed, tired.

“I’m…sorry…Daddy,” panted Jake, “I…love…you…”

Peter sighed. He really couldn’t stay mad at that face.

“Clean my cock,” he ordered.

The rest of the night went by without incident. Peter had a suit brought in by his driver, and Jake wore it for the rest of the event. On the way back to the mansion, Peter fucked his son’s mouth in the backseat, then his ass once again.

Jake was glad that his dad was happy. He really did love him, and wanted to make him happy. It was just hard sometimes, to get a job and stuff, because he was always so horny. He would never admit it outright, but he was glad that his dad fucked him as much as he did; he actually really liked it.

They soon reached home, and Jake went to bed. Peter went to his office, and dialed a number on his phone.

The person on the other end picked up on the third tone.

“It’s me again,” said Peter, “I think I’d like another order…”

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