Frank's Rules

By EdIam -
published November 26, 2018

Frank likes structure and rules in his home. Desmond likes corrupting families. Whatever could happen when the two meet?

(Hey friends: this is part one of a two part story…MAYBE three…but definitely two. I finished the second part already, but wanted to get this part out first before I finish editing the second. And, well, the elephant in the room is still Re-Educator. It’ll happen. I promise. It’s just quite the undertaking, haha. I’d say I have a rough draft of half of it and Chapter 11 is already insanely long…I just want to get it right with all the different points of views. So please be patient and allow me these little breather stories. As always, shoot me e-mails if you want and, well, I just adore you all :) )

I truly loved having breakfast with my family. It was one of the best moments of my day, honestly. I was a firm believer in rules and a well-structured schedule, and breakfast at 6:30 every morning was probably my favorite of these rules. My family had an opportunity to check in on one another before the day started and we could gear up for another well thought out day.

But today, Clay was uncharacteristically whiny and demanding which, despite his best efforts, wasn’t quite enough to ruin the morning. But it was certainly wearing on me.

“Maybe tomorrow night, sport,” I calmly answered to my youngest son, Clay, despite being mildly upset that he’d also shown up to the breakfast table still in his pjs.

“But Dad, you’ve let so many of my other friends stay the night and you let Jeff have his friends stay over all the time. And he just moved here last week. I’m, like, his only friend at this point and I really really want to get to know him and he asked me if he could come over and…” Clay whined.

Looking over the newspaper I was calmly reading through, as was my morning routine, I made somewhat forceful eye contact with my 18 year old son. He was sitting across from me, next to his mother, still in his pjs like a slob, eating his bacon that his mother had made for him without breaking much eye contact with me. I was slightly alarmed that it appeared very evident that he hadn’t showered yet this morning and, at this rate, he may not have enough time to before school. To make matters worse, he had an uncharacteristic BO to him that was less than favorable considering I ensured my family took their hygiene very seriously.

“That is very kind of you, Clay, but it’s a school night tonight and Jeff always had his friends stay on weekends as well until he went to college. He’s older now and even though he lives in the basement, he doesn’t live by the same rules he did when he was your age. You know that as well as I do. If you truly want to bring…umm…your friend…what was his name again?” I asked.

“Desmond,” Clay retorted, somewhat annoyed.

“Desmond. Right. If you want to bring Desmond for dinner tonight, that is fine. But you are going to live by the same rules that Jeff lived by when he was still in high school. And you best hurry through your meal so you can go get yourself clean. You know as well as I do that you should have been showered before you even came down for breakfast. Is that clear, young man?”

“Yes, sir,” Clay said as he finished his last piece of bacon. “May I be excused?”

I excused Clay so he could get ready for school and get his shower done as I took a few bites of the bacon my wife, Linda, had prepared for me. We smiled at one another in a knowing way. She and I both knew that Clay was usually so well behaved and followed our structured routine with ease. But he was, hopefully, showering now and would be right as rain so we began chatting about our days briefly until Jeff appeared from the basement in his casual clothing. After a brief good morning, he grabbed some toast and began buttering it, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Jeff had chosen to come back home for the summer between semesters at school to work at the local hospital as a med tech. Clay had been jealous that Jeffs’ semester ended a good two weeks before he would be graduating from his senior year of high school, but it was all in good fun. The two of them were the best of friends really. But what was truly amazing and made me so incredibly proud of Jeff was that it wasn’t particularly necessary for him to even work as a med tech at this point, as he had saved up plenty to just relax over the summer. But he wanted more experience working in different areas of the hospital so he could respect everyone’s perspectives once he graduated. He’d been in school the past two years doing his pre-med prerequisites and planning on becoming a cardiac surgeon. I had to admit, both our sons we’re incredibly intelligent, attractive, athletic, and kind hearted boys. Much of that had to do with the very strict rules we’d placed on them.

Both Linda and I came from strict Roman Catholic households and we were successful, happy, and well-adjusted people. It was only natural that we’d bring our two sons up in the same environment. And, much like us, they’d flourished under the structure. Both of our boys were our pride and I couldn’t have been happier with how they were growing up.

While Jeff had always been the consummate older brother, looking out for younger Clay, Clay, too, looked out for Jeff. I honestly couldn’t think of a time when they two of them ever fought. Even the mild ribbing Jeff gave Clay about being on his ‘summer break’ before him was taken all in stride by Clay. Linda and I truly did luck out with a couple great guys for sons.

Both Jeff and Clay also inherited much of my masculine presence. I was a broad shouldered, black haired, brown eyed, somewhat hairy athletic man. I’d played a lot of football in high school and in college, and both of my sons followed in my footsteps. The three of us still hit the gym together, which was easy, considering we bought weights and other work out machines for our basement. Jeff was on his college football team, had the same dark hair and dark eyes that I had, and was a bit of a heart breaker. He’d had a couple pretty serious girlfriends throughout high school, but now seemed pretty set with his current girlfriend of three years. At 21 years old now, he was getting pretty serious with Becky. I was pretty sure my boy was about ready to pop the question.

Clay, now at 18, was also seeing a very nice girl from our church pretty regularly these days. Mary was just as smart and athletic as my son, so it wasn’t a surprise when I saw them kiss on the front porch a few weeks back. Things were getting pretty serious!

Clay, too, had my dark hair and dark eyes and kept a bit of a shaved look, but chose to keep it rather scraggly and short as opposed to Jeffs’ more bushy beard.

All in all, Linda and I were incredibly proud of the two upstanding, talented, and attractive men we’d been raising. Other than the surprisingly argumentative nature and lack of normal hygiene from Clay this morning, very rarely did I have to get stern with them. They knew that our rules were for their betterment.

Jeff eventually sat down across from me and I stared a moment at his almost annoyingly bushy beard. I, on the other hand, kept my face clean shaven. It may be a generational thing, but at 42, I felt like I was presenting a more professional air when shaven. Jeff, on the other hand, tended to let his facial hair grow out. “When you going to shave that ugly stubble off? You always looked so much more handsome without it” Linda teased as she reached over and scratched at his face. I smiled over at her, knowing she had the same viewpoint I did.

Jeff, for his part, just laughed. “Hey, if you convince Becky to tell me to do it, I’ll gladly follow her instruction. But she likes it, so good luck there!”

We both definitely liked to tease Jeff and Clay about their facial hair, but it was all in good fun. I didn’t really mind all that much that they kept their facial hair, and, if I had to be honest, it was partially their genes that caused so much hair. All three of us had hairy chests, arms, and legs too. I couldn’t blame them for what was in style now, but I couldn’t help but feel as though they’d look so much more dapper and professional if they just shaved their faces.

We all laughed as we continued nibbling at our breakfast. Linda always seemed to be on top of everything at home. By no means was I what many of the millennials might call anti-feminist; Linda just loved to take care of me and our boys. So every morning, she had bacon, eggs, and toast, at the very least, before heading off to the bakery that she owned. I, luckily, had a pretty straightforward schedule now that I’ve worked my way up the ranks as chief surgeon at our local hospital in a surprisingly fast amount of time. Combined with the fact that Linda created her own hours at this point, owning such a successful bakery, and my pre-set surgery schedule, we always tended to have everything at order at home. Not that I couldn’t do a load of laundry, but Linda always seemed to be on top of it before I could.

Eventually, Clay came back down, dressed in a nice t-shirt and jeans, ready for school. His hair seemed to be slightly disheveled, but I assumed he’d just hurried through his shower and didn’t have time to style it like normal. Jeff, on the other hand, worked the weekend shifts this weekend, so he had Thursday and Friday off this week. Today being a Thursday, he said that he planned to do some studying and perhaps meet up with Becky later in the day.

Excusing herself, Linda leaned over and gave me a kiss as she said her goodbyes to Clay and Jeff with a quick peck on the cheek. She headed out the door, ready to get into work to assist her workers.

My first surgery wasn’t until later that morning, so I had the chance to stay back and clean up with Clay and Jeff. As we started clearing the table, Clay asked, more politely than before, “So, I don’t want to speak out of turn again, but is it ok for Desmond to come over for dinner tonight at the very least?”

I smiled over at him. Clearly, he’d taken the slight reprimand to heart.

“Of course your friend can come over for dinner. Just text your mother so she can plan accordingly,” I stated calmly.

“Oh awesome! Thanks so much, Dad! Honestly, I just met Desmond a couple days ago and have really only shared a few lunches with him, but I think you’ll all really like him!” Clay eagerly announced as we finished cleaning the kitchen.

“This Desmond kid must be pretty awesome for you to want him to come over so badly, bro,” Jeff lightly teased leaning in to playfully punch him. He made a weird face as he got near him, but I didn’t think much of it.

“Oh, man, Jeff. I don’t know what it is about the guy, but I just really want to make him feel welcome. He sat with me and, I have to admit, at first I thought he was a bit forward and kind of weird, but yesterday, he really just proved himself to be an awesome stand up dude. I’m excited to get to know him better!”

I was slightly taken aback by the joy that Clay expressed for this new friend. Clay never had a shortage of friends, honestly. He, and Jeff for that matter, were both incredibly popular. With the number of sports they were involved in, their high academic prowess, and their level of attractiveness, there didn’t tend to be a shortage of friends and girls seeking their attention. But I couldn’t recall a time when Clay was this persistent about someone…especially someone he evidently just met.

I let my wandering thoughts pass. I was being a little silly thinking into the insistence that Clay had for his new friend Desmond. But I tried to just get my mind off of that weird desire for his friend to come to dinner. Especially after Jeff sneakily whispered to me that Clay smelled horrible.

Jeff then headed back downstairs to get ready for his day, Clay set out for school before I had a chance to even smell what Jeff had smelled, and I set off for work. I didn’t have a busy day, by any means, but I was the kind of person that truly focused on work once I got there. So I let my mind forget the strange behavior of Clay and Jeffs’ report that it didn’t seem Clay had even showered as I’d told him to. I just focused on work and, luckily, I only had one surgery planned for the day and then was on call so I knew that I could get home relatively early to get caught up on the new Netflix series I’d been eyeing. Linda and I had agreed to watch it together, but I had to admit I’d been sneaking a few episodes here and there.

The surgery was a rather simple seven hour procedure for me and so I finished even earlier than I thought I would and told my staff I’d be heading home and to call if there were any emergencies. More often than not, being on call simply meant I’d get paid to relax at home. Luckily for me, my hospital staff tended to handle most situations on their own and being one of the only adequately staffed hospitals in the city, rarely did an on call doctor have to return.

As I pulled into my driveway, I saw that Clay and his new friend pulled in right behind me. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was a little after 4 o’clock, so it made sense that the two of them would be arriving home from school. Granted, I figured Clay would have been here slightly earlier than that as school got out at 3, but I figured they probably hung out a bit before heading home.

I got out of my car and walked towards Clay and his new friend, who, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name. Despite not recalling his name, I found it even more bizarre, just by the look of the kid, that Clay wanted to hang out with him so much.

He was a bit, well, a lot fatter than Clay, not nearly as good looking, and clearly didn’t care much about making himself presentable. His hair was slightly overgrown and he had a unkempt beard. And I didn’t want to be rude, but he quite a disgusting stench to him. He had similar dark hair and eyes to me and my boys, but beyond that, it didn’t appear as though he would have much in common with Clay based on his appearance. He looked to be a bit shorter than Clay, who was about 6’0” and still growing slightly. I was at 6’2” and his brother Jeff was about 6’”3. So I knew all three of us would tower of the young man who was probably about 5’7” or so. He also seemed to stare into my eyes a bit more intensely than I would have liked, so there was clearly a level of social awkwardness that the kid had.

“Hey there, sport. This must be your new friend you told me about. I’m Frank Hawkins, Clay’s dad,” I stuck out my hand to shake the boys hand, not wanting to be rude and indicate I’d already forgotten his name.

After a moment, the boy grabbed my hand and shook it, never really looking away from my eyes. “Desmond Miller. Nice to meet you, Mr. Hawkins. Thank you for having me for dinner. I brought a bit of fruit juice for you all.” I noticed he was holding a bag with something wrapped in it, presumably his pitcher of fruit juice.

He continued to stare at me in earnest and, I had to admit, it unnerved me a bit.

Eventually, Clay broke the silence, “Yeah, Dad. I had some of his fruit punch yesterday! It’s so good. I even kind of urged him to bring us all some so I drove him to his place, met his older brothers and parents, and had him bring some here!”

Throughout it all, Desmond still stared at me and shook my hand. I forced my hand free and smiled with fake politeness, “Sounds great. Uh, well, boys, I’m on call so I’m going to be in the study. You two have fun and your mother and I will let you know when dinner is ready.”

I walked away, confused beyond belief why my son, a star student and athletic star at his school, would have wanted so desperately to have this strange, ugly, weird kid hang out so badly. Shrugging it off, I set off for my study and heard Clay and Desmond head upstairs, presumably towards Clay’s room.

I sat down at my desk and clicked on the TV hanging on my wall and started up some Netflix, keeping my pager attached just in case. I started working on some of the documents I had to complete for work and lost track of time a bit. After about an hour or so, I heard a light tapping at my office door.

“Hunny, dinner is almost ready, could you set the table for me?” Linda asked through the door.

Despite not really paying much attention to the show, I hurried to mute it so Linda wouldn’t hear me cheating, “Sure hun, out in a sec.”

I clicked off the TV, grabbed the pager, and hurried out to the dining room to help Linda set the table. There was already a couple things ready for us, including a freshly baked cake for dessert, sitting on the table. I started setting up four spots and then, at the last minute, remembered that Desmond was joining us, despite the fact that I really didn’t want him to after that strange introduction. But Clay’s friend was Clay’s friend and so I set him a place next to my youngest.

Linda pecked me on the cheek, feeling my slight five o’clock shadow brushing her lips. “My man and his hairy face. You just shaved this morning, didn’t you?”

I laughed heartily. “Do you want me to shave again, sweetheart?” I grabbed her by the waste and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

“I’ll settle for you calling the kids for dinner, sexy man.”

I smiled at her tenderly and walked to the basement door. “Jeff! Time for dinner!”

I heard a meek reply that he’d be up in a moment and so I headed to the stairs to get Clay.

“Clay! Dinnertime!” I shouted.

There wasn’t a response and so I repeated it, “Clay! Come down for dinner!”

Still silence. Groaning to myself slightly, I started walking up the stairs towards Clay’s room. The door was shut, which, honestly, upset me a bit. Clay knew that the rules of the house were that there were to be no closed bedroom doors. Jeff abided by those rules as did Clay, up until tonight.

Somewhat surprised and upset that Clay would disobey me so willingly, I knocked loudly on the door. “Clay, I said it was time for dinner and you know better than to have this door closed.”

Inside, I heard a bit of a muffled whisper, probably the boys planning on how to explain their predicament, and then, a somewhat preoccupied sounding response from Clay, “Sorry, Dad. Just, um, helping…Desmond with…something. Be down in a few.”

Not satisfied with his response, I tried his doorknob and was even more upset to learn that he had locked the door. Never in his 18 years had he locked his bedroom door!

“Clay, you open this door this instant!” I said, somewhat more angrily than I had intended. The shock of having my son break such an easy to follow rule for the first time in his life just got to me a bit.

More shuffling and the sound of the two of them shuffling things around came from inside the room. I could have sworn I heard his friend whisper, in the same monotone voice he’d had with me earlier, something like, “Don’t worry, we’ll be able to do this openly soon.”

I had no idea what he meant or if I’d actually heard that, but every second the door was locked was making me more and more upset. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the door click and Clay stood there, looking somewhat guilty.

“Sorry, Dad. We were just talking about some private stuff that happened at school. It won’t happen again,” Clay muttered.

Feeling my anger dissipate after the apology and clear guilt that Clay felt, I let it go. But I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing the tshirt and jeans he’d been wearing earlier. He was now in short athletic shorts and a slightly worn out white undershirt. To top it off, for the first time, I got a whiff of the stench coming from my son and his room. It was almost as if he hadn’t showered in a few days. I tried to place the blame on Desmond, knowing he had that disgusting BO even when I met him outside.

I sighed deeply, calming myself while also trying not to make a scene or smell the room. “No problem, sport. Sorry I yelled. But no locked or closed doors in this house, OK?”

Smiling at me, Clay and Desmond followed me downstairs. I may have been paranoid, but I was almost entirely convinced Desmond was staring at the back of my head the entire time I was in front of him.

Shaking off the thought, I sat at my position at the head of the table and noticed Linda was already at the opposite end and Jeff on my right. Clay sat closer to his mother on the left and Desmond sat between the two of us. My stomach did a brief flip as he passed me as I noticed, yet again, that Desmond had such a horrid BO problem. I was even more annoyed that Clay had taken such an interest in him. But as a kind, Catholic man of the house, I kept my mouth shut. Clay would eventually tire of him and go back to hanging with his friends that shared his interests. I couldn’t even imagine what Desmond and my son had in common in the slightest.

I initiated us in a prayer and we all lowered our heads…all except Desmond who didn’t seem to share our beliefs. I said grace and gave thanks, as we always did and finished up, telling my family and Desmond to dig in. Desmond took the moment to hand the bag over to Clay and Clay suddenly said, “Oh, yeah, hey, everyone. Desmond brought some fruit juice for all of us to drink tonight. It’s really really good. I had some at lunch yesterday and today! It’s tasty.”

I scoffed slightly at the oversell my boy was clearly giving a simple fruit juice while Linda responded, “Oh wow, thanks, Desmond, I’ll grab five more glasses for us all and we’ll give it a try!”

“Oh, no thanks, Mrs. Hawkins. None for me. I brought it to share with you four,” Desmond said, somewhat creepily.

Linda, for her part, didn’t seem as bothered by the strange response as I had been, and brought back four cups. She reached inside the bag and pulled out a clear pitcher filled with a strange juice that appeared to have swirls of blue, purple, and green inside it.

“What a strange looking juice, Desmond! What flavor is it?” Linda asked.

“Oh, it’s a mix of different fruits like, uh, blueberry, apple, and, um, grape. My family loves it. We’ve been drinking it for years now. I like to share it with new friends and Clay was nice enough to invite me tonight so I figured I’d bring some for you all too.”

I raised an eyebrow at the bizarre explanation. The juice certainly didn’t look as appealing as I would have liked, with the strange colors dancing around each other. Linda started pouring the four glasses, but not before I noticed that it looked as though the container had a bit less than full, as if someone had already had a glass. I figured Desmond might have had a drink or something.

Regardless, Linda passed the drinks around the table and we all placed them next to our water glasses, except Jeff, who instantly took a big drink of the strange looking juice.

“Goodness, that’s a lot tarter than I expected!” Jeff said, startled. “I’m not sure if I can drink much more of that stuff.”

I took a quick sniff and decided against trying it quite yet, but watched Linda take a quick drink as well while Clay chugged his down almost instantly.

“I don’t really agree at all, Jeff. It’s really good! Try some, Dad!” Clay said, strangely eager.

“Yeah, it’s actually really good once you get used to it. You should definitely have another drink,” Desmond said rather blandly.

Jeff, for his part, considered Despond’s words but ultimately grabbed his drink and took another drink. Linda, too, eventually grabbed the glass as Clay started grabbing his food and making his plate. I, too, decided against the drink for now and started making my plate.

Jeff and Linda then started fixing their plates as Desmond just gazed around the table at each of us. I started shoving some mashed potatoes in my mouth and swallowed. Then, “Say, uh, Desmond. You going to get some food?”

Desmond met my gaze and looked at me slightly shocked. His eyes wandered to the juice before me and back to my face. “Sure. Um…I just know that the drink is really good so I think you should drink it all and finish it before you even start the meal. It’s, like, better before you eat for sure.”

Clay looked like he realized it was true just as Desmond finished saying it and added, “Yeah, that’s pretty much why I chugged mine down.”

“Oh really?” Linda said as she dropped the spoon she’d been scooping out potatoes with and grabbed her drink and began chugging it. Jeff, too, stopped spooning the gravy onto his mashed potatoes to finish his drink.

I had to admit, I was a little confused at the crazy level of eagerness of everyone to drink their juice and felt a bit pressured to drink mine too. Especially since my son seemed so convinced that it was good. So I looked back at the tart purple, blue, and green concoction and reached out for it.

I picked it up and gave it another sniff. Blech, I thought. It actually smelled wretched, almost as if something in it had gone bad. But Clay said such great things about it and Linda and Jeff gulped theirs down without issue and had even started eating and chatting slightly. So I brought it up to my lips…

…and my pager buzzed loudly. Placing the drink back down on the table, I reached down to my waist and looked at what had been sent. I saw the code indicating there was some kind of trauma incident that required me to return to work. Without thinking I got up, “Sorry, family. SOS, gotta go to the hospital.”

Clay, Jeff, and Linda were quite used to me randomly getting called into work occasionally, so they all wished me the best as I turned to head to the door. Desmond, however, looked a little crestfallen that I had to leave. I didn’t want my son’s weird friend getting to me, however, so I ignored it.

I rushed out, knowing that I needed to hurry to the hospital to help out. I called the nurses station to get report as I approached the hospital, only about a fifteen minute drive. Evidently, there’d been a car accident and so they were calling to ensure extra surgeons were available just in case they were needed.

I arrived and assisted where I could and ended up helping with a couple minor surgeries. Ultimately, it was a fairly standard emergency situation and my team and I stayed professional and cool headed throughout. Relieved and exhausted, I washed up and headed home, about five or six hours after I’d left.

I walked in at around midnight and headed right to the dining room, assuming Linda had left some of my leftovers for me. I was surprised to see that the dining room table was still set up, almost as if the other four hadn’t really eaten much after I’d left. We always cleared and cleaned after dinner and there was no reason to believe they wouldn’t have finished their meals after I left. Jeff, Linda, and Clay still had almost completely full plates, whereas Desmond’s still looked as empty as it had been when I had to leave. As upsetting it was to me that they didn’t follow the standard rules, I figured something might have happened to distract them. I was honestly just too tired to really put the pieces together.

I grabbed a piece of the roast my wife had made, ate it, and went upstairs to get some sleep. I passed Clay’s room, noting that it was closed tight. To be honest, I knew he preferred to sleep with his door open slightly and Linda and I preferred to keep doors from being shut completely in our home, so I opened the door a few inches, knowing Clay would have been long since asleep.

As the door opened, I overheard what sounded like Clay repositioning in bed rather chaotically. Poor guy, I thought. He must be having a difficult time sleeping. Probably due to the fact that he closed his door all the way and he wasn’t used to a difference like that. We were, after all, a family of structure and habit. I also noticed that his room seemed to still smell like his new friend Desmond…such a bad BO smell that I hoped wouldn’t linger much longer. Hopefully Clay was done with that weirdo.

I kept walking down the hall towards my bedroom, hoping that Clay could rest for school tomorrow, and sauntered into my bed. I was so exhausted at this point that I basically just face-planted into my side of the bed after I stripped into my underwear and put on my pjs, hoping I wouldn’t wake Linda. I swear, I was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

I heard the alarm go off that usually woke Linda, who always woke up about an hour before I did to get breakfast started. I had today off so I was hoping she would just hit her alarm and I could go back to sleep until she woke me and the boys for breakfast. She kept the alarm going, however, until I lost my patience and reached over to wake her. I was surprised to find that Linda wasn’t in bed next to me.

Reaching over to turn off her alarm, my brain went in circles. I wasn’t sure if she was even there last night or not. I’d just been so tired. My brain went a little crazy with worry. Had she even been home? Where had she gone? So I rushed out of my bedroom to find her without much of a thought. As I exited my room, I heard some clinking downstairs and ran that way.

There, in the kitchen, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary at all, was Linda, looking as though she was preparing breakfast. Strangely enough, it looked as though she was still wearing the clothes she’d been wearing last night.

“Oh, dear, I didn’t hear you get home last night! What are you doing up this early?” Linda asked after she jumped upon seeing me.

“Well, I didn’t see you in bed and I guess you might not have even been here. I guess I kind of panicked. It’s not like you to not be on schedule and there in bed with me. I suppose I got home so late and was just very exhausted,” I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “I’m confused, Linda. You’re in your clothes from yesterday, the dinner from last night is still on the table, and you’re making breakfast after you didn’t sleep in our bed?”

I stared at her and she continued to fret around the kitchen. Without really even looking, she replied, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know exactly what happened last night, I just knew after you left that I wanted to go downstairs and go to bed. I know, I know, it’s not to your structure but, honestly, it was a lapse in my judgement and we’ll get back on schedule today. Luckily, my phone was with me and so I set my alarm,” she jumped suddenly, “Oh I didn’t even think about the alarm upstairs. Honestly, it happened so fast. Right after you left, Desmond got to talking and I realized how tired I was so I went downstairs as the boys continued chatting. Do you mind helping clear the table? I want breakfast ready to go, just like always.”

To be honest, I was dumbfounded. For years, we had a certain structure and rules we lived by, and within 12 hours, it seemed so many of those rules were falling to the wayside. Not wanting to show Linda how frustrated I was with everything, I minded and started clearing the table, wasting so much of the food that had set out all night.

Once finished, I let Linda work on our breakfast, hoping against hope things would start to make sense soon. As was usual, Linda had coffee ready and brewed as she knew I always came down to grab a cup before I showered, so I poured myself a mug-full, took a sip to help me clear my head and focus more clearly, and headed up to our bathroom to shower.

As I got upstairs and started down the hallway towards my bedroom and private bath, Jeff came sauntering out of Clay’s room. I did a double take, seeing him in nothing but his tightie whities. It was extremely strange to see my son so scantily clad. In our house, we’d always stressed the importance of covering up. Seeing him so casually wonder out of his brothers room, hairy chest heaving, and what looked like a sizable bulge at his front completely threw me for a loop.

“Jeffrey! What in the world are you doing walking around like that…and why in the world were you in Clay’s bedroom.”

Not even taking a moment to stop and look at me, Jeff just responded, seemingly half asleep, as he descended the stairs, “Clay and I had a sleepover and had a good time. It’s not a big deal, Dad.”

I was dumbfounded. My son not only walked by me as if I didn’t matter, he barely even registered that I was upset. He didn’t even seem to realize I would be upset.

My family was beginning to worry me but it was just too much to process. They all knew very well that we were a structured, rule abiding family. Rarely, if ever, did we stray from the rules we’d set. Linda and I had agreed all those years ago that structure was going to be a hallmark of our marriage and our parenting. Both Jeff and Clay had followed all the rules we set for years and years. Even when Jeff and Clay hit their so called rebellious teenage years, the structure we’d provided minimized the rebellion to almost zero.

The strange and sudden changes in behaviors of first Clay, then Linda, and now Jeff was just confounding to me. I took another large sip of my coffee as I tried to shake it off so I could shower and handle my suddenly chaotic, at least to our usual level of structure, home dynamics. I gagged slightly at the strange taste of the coffee I hadn’t noticed when I’d taken a sip downstairs. Thinking Linda may have used some old coffee beans this morning, I kept sipping at it slightly, still getting the normal caffeinated kick I needed. There really was no sense in wasting a cup.

I didn’t even want to risk seeing how Clay might be further ignoring our rules, so I walked by his room without peeking in and bee lined right to the bathroom attached to my bedroom that Linda and I shared. I closed the bathroom door, the only door we allowed closed all the way in our home, I thought angrily to myself.

I stripped out of my clothes and started the water in our large shower to allow it to warm up. In the meantime, I went over to shave, as I always did. I absentmindedly scratched my hairy chest as I grabbed the shaving cream and placed it to my head. I good shave would definitely help me clear my head and focus on how I would get my family back on track.

By the time I finished shaving, the steam from the shower had just started to affect the mirror so I hopped in and cleaned off. As was custom for myself, I planned out my day in my head. I knew I had the day off, so I wanted to work on some of the gardening out back. Jeff had the day off too, so he could likely help me. Linda would likely go into the business to check on things but could come back. So that meant, tonight, when Clay got back from school, they could have a family meeting to figure out what was going on and how to fix it all. Satisfied, I turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried off. Before heading into my bedroom to get dressed, I chugged the last of my coffee, as was my usual routine. I gagged a bit again, but the cup of coffee was what I needed to get the brain working for the day.

I decided to wear some of my more casual clothes, knowing I’d be out back gardening, so I put on a nice button up flannel and some khaki shorts. I figured Linda was likely almost finished with breakfast and Jeff and Clay would be snacking by now so I took a deep breath and started to head downstairs.

I had to admit, I was surprisingly nervous. I so rarely had to discipline my sons or discuss issues with Linda. I didn’t know how I’d let them know that I was, actually, quite upset with their behavior this past day. So I planned what I would say: We were a family of structure and we had rules that we lived by and there was literally no excuse for the behavior each of them had been…

My speech was cut short in my head as I entered the dining room attached to the kitchen. Not only was Jeff still lounging in his underwear, but so was Clay; both of them sitting where they’d been sitting the day before. But a third person was sitting with his back to me in my chair and it appeared to be Desmond based on the oily and disheveled hair.

I stormed into the room, my calm speech in my head completely forgotten. Linda glanced at me as she placed the bacon on the table, “Morning, hun, breakfast is ready.”

“That’s all you have to say, Linda? What is going on here? I woke up this morning and it’s like all three of you lost your minds. Jeff and Clay, I demand you go get dressed decently this instant. Linda, you don’t sleep in the basement, you sleep with me, your husband. And I sure hope you arrived this morning, Desmond, because I had already told Clay you weren’t to stay the night on a school night. Beyond that, you’re in my seat, young man. Get up this instant.”

I glared down at Desmond at the end of my stream of conscious anger as he, shockingly, merely smirked right back at me. A few moment passed and he looked passed me at Linda, who was standing agape at my outburst at the end of the table, “You’re sure he had that coffee?”

“Oh, yes, just like you told me last night, I made sure he had a cup and so I’m positive. He always has his coffee before and during his shower,” Linda responded.

I just looked back and forth between the two. “What in the heck does my coffee have to do with anything,” I turned a full 180 degrees to look right at Linda, “And what do you mean you made sure I got my coffee?”

Desmond responded rather than Linda, “She means what she said. She was to ensure you drank a cup of coffee this morning. And Frank, be a dear and go grab a glass, then go to the fridge, grab the juice I brought yesterday, pour four glasses, chug one of them, and come sit back down here next to me and Clay.”

Words couldn’t describe how upset I was at Desmond for telling me what to do in my home, especially with how angry I already was, but his request made sense to me, for some unknown reason. So I did exactly what he said and ended up gulping down a full glass of the strange brew he’d brought the day before. I honestly had no desire to do so as it was still so tart and disgusting, but I had no reason not to.

As I sat down, Desmond offhandedly reminded the other three how much they loved the drink last night and told them they should have another drink. As my wife and sons went over to nonchalantly swig down the juice, I looked back over to Desmond, who was maniacally staring back at me.

“Now that I’ve done what you asked, will you get out of my chair and go home, son?” I said angrily. I wasn’t even trying to hide my disdain any more. My family was going off the deep end and this smelly, pudgy, strange teenager was only annoying me even more. For the life of me, I could not figure out a single reason why Clay would want to even be associated with such a bizarre person.

But Desmond just smiled at me. “Actually, I do have a few things I want to say before I leave. And you really want to hear me, don’t you, Mr. Hawkins?”

“Of course I do,” I responded honestly. I was still upset with my family and annoyed with this boy, but I did want to hear him out.

“Well, first and foremost, before I forget, it’s important for you to know that you loved the juice I had you drink, want more of it as soon as you’re able, and you’d gladly have another glass any time I suggest it. In fact, because you’re so clearly upset and because you missed out on the fun we had last night so unexpectedly, you are going to have yet another drink to make sure you’re good and ready to listen to what else I have to say, OK?”

As my sons and wife sat back down after drinking their glass, I, too, knew Desmond was right and that I wanted another drink right then and there. My immediate response to the first glass I took was likely just a mistake. I knew now, especially after Desmond mentioned it, that the juice was actually surprisingly good and I needed another glass right this instant. So I swallowed another glass full, leaving very little remaining in the pitcher. It tasted so amazing that I was a little bit upset there wasn’t much left. I had no clue why Desmond wanted me to drink another glass before he’d continue, but I was going to argue. It was truly just so good.

“Come sit down now again, Frank,” Desmond stated, matter of factly.

I did just that and Desmond continued. “You seem upset this morning, Frank. Why is that and answer completely honestly without worrying about offending me or your family. Be sure to include how you feel about me with the same honesty.”

Unfiltered, I started, “I’m very upset with how much my family seems to be disregarding our schedules, our rules, and our structure. We’ve always been obedient and stick to our tried and true format and my sons always followed the rules we’d set, but now they’ve become slightly argumentative and walking around displaying their bodies in such provocative ways. It offends me and my sense of morality. And you, Desmond, just seem to be someone that Clay shouldn’t even be friends with; let alone demanding you come over so forcefully. You aren’t athletic, you aren’t as attractive, and you smell foul. Clay has so many other more suitable friends that are as athletic, charming, and attractive as him and it makes no sense to me why he’d be wasting his time with you.”

The words tumbled out of my mouth and I realized I hadn’t meant to be as harsh as I’d been, but Desmond wanted honesty and so I gave it to him.

Desmond actually didn’t look very hurt by my words. If I had to guess, he probably already knew my words were true. The smirk on his face and the staring he was doing remained steady throughout my attack. Then, he spoke, “I can understand your anger at how chaotic your house seems to have become for you. We’ll address that for sure. But as for why Clay seems to be interested in being my friend…I think it’d be best for him to tell you. Mrs. Hawkins, take a seat. Everyone, listen to Clay without saying a word and without leaving your seats. Clay: stand up and tell them honestly how we met and why you like me so much and about when you first realized you wanted to get closer to me. Don’t leave out any details, feel completely comfortable saying everything, and get just as excited now as you did then.”

Clay stood up and my eyes nearly popped out of my head as I saw his already tightly packed bulge expand before he even started talking. But, just as Desmond suggested, I remained silent as Clay started, “I had heard there was a new kid at school on Monday named Desmond. He wasn’t in my class and I didn’t think much about him until Tuesday when he asked if he could sit with me at lunch. I didn’t really want him to at first because all my friends would be there too and, I’ll be honest, I thought he looked like a loser and he kind of smelled bad. So I told him no. He insisted and so I called him a faggot and walked off. Later that lunch period, he came over while I was eating with my friends. We all kind of made fun of him a bit as he asked me if he could visit with me after school as he stood right over me rather bizarrely. I called him a fag again. He walked away looking way more chill than most people we pick on and even though I did notice him staring at me from a few tables down as I finished my meal and chugged the last of my milk, I figured I’d given him enough grief to leave me alone. But then, right as I started walking out of the lunch room to head off to fifth period, he told me, very directly, that I wanted to sit with him tomorrow so we could talk more readily, to stop showering until he told me to, and that no matter what he gave me to drink tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. And, surprisingly, when he told me that, I did want to sit with him and I knew I’d take whatever he gave me. I also made a mental note to avoid showering until Desmond and I could chat about it again.”

As Clay continued to ramble on, I couldn’t help but notice his cock continued to swell and throb. It was incredibly distracting and I wanted so badly to tell him to cover up; heck, I wanted to run upstairs and grab him a decent set of clothes. But I knew I needed to sit here and listen, so I let it all go as he continued, “So I carried on with my day as normal and then on Wednesday, he found me at lunch and we sat together kind of far away from where I usually sat. My friends gave me some shit as I walked away from them, but I told them it was just going to be for that day. I started eating as soon as we sat down and didn’t really say much. I did want to eat with him but I still didn’t particularly care about becoming friends or talking or even getting to know him. Then he handed me some of his juice and I drank it without him even telling me to, just like I’d planned on doing the day before.

“That was when my opinion of him changed. Desmond started talking to me and he just made so much sense with every single thing he said. I realized suddenly that he was beyond sexy, that I’d do pretty much anything he wanted me to do, that I wanted to hang out with him desperately, and that I’d be completely honest with him no matter what questions he asked. It was a weird feeling, being so attracted to him and knowing I was a straight, but he told me that everything I felt when I was around him and everything he told me should make perfect sense and so, just like that, it made sense.

“He made a point to tell me that I loved the scent of a dirty, musky man, including him and I found myself sniffing as often as I could. The pungency of his filth become so erotic. When he told me to stick my hand down my pants and get my hand stained with my own dick sweat, I couldn’t resist. He told me to smell it and to love it and, well, I did! I smelled just as erotic and amazing as him. I couldn’t get enough of my smell. I’ll be honest, since then, I’ve made it a habit to sniff my hands after groping myself as often as I can. It’s just so intoxicating.

“He then started asking me questions about you guys: who my parents are, what they do, if I have siblings, how old they are. Boring stuff like that. Then he started asking about my sexual history, my penis, stuff that I didn’t usually feel comfortable talking about at all, given that I’m Catholic and it all felt weird to me before. I knew it was sinful to talk about those kinds of private things, but with Desmond, I spilled my guts to him and got more detailed than I even would have imagined I’d get with anyone, let alone someone I’d really just met. But Desmond was right, I trusted him more than I trusted anyone else.

“Lunch ended and we were about to go to our last few classes and he told me to meet him after school in his car. Obviously, I was insanely horny the rest of the day thinking about Desmond. Partly because he told me to be and party because I couldn’t help it. He was just the sexiest person in the world and, even now, just talking about or thinking about him gets me so hard. Honestly, saying this to him seeing his beyond sexy and attractive face staring back at me…mmm…I’m just so horny.”

Clearly, he wasn’t lying. The fabric of his tightie whities were stretched to the limit as his huge cock, clearly something he’d inherited from me, pulsed and throbbed at the very mention of Desmond.

“So, anyway, I met up with him after school and we went to his car. He had me take another quick drink of his juice, which he’d told me I loved and, well, I did. You all tasted it; it’s amazing! So then we drove out of town a bit and he told me to get naked so he could see all of me. Obviously, I did. I’d do anything he wanted. I still will. He told me to stroke my cock as I told him about my upbringing, my religion, my chastity, how much it meant for me to save myself for marriage. All of it was true, of course. But he reminded me that I would do anything for him. So when he told me to pull out his penis and give him a blow job, I knew that I had to. Not only that, I knew that I wanted to more than anything.”

I was fuming and knew my face was more than likely red as physically possible hearing my son talk about giving his friend a blow job. Everything he was saying may have made sense to him, as he stated, but to me, it was absolutely immoral, unethical, and sinful. My son had been coerced into being a homosexual by this young man sitting next to me. I wanted to stand up, grab him by the collar, and drag him forcefully from the house, but knew that Desmond had been completely right before Clay even started talking: I needed to stay seated, stay silent, and listen to Clay.

He continued as I silently fumed, “It was insane how amazing it felt to have his penis in my mouth. Granted, he told me it would be and naturally I believed him. It was so great bobbing up and down on him. I never imagined anything could feel that good or be that erotic. He smelled so disgusting and manly and it was just so indescribably perfect. I loved it so much and Desmond reminded me that he couldn’t wait to smell my dick sweat too. After he came in my mouth, he told me it was time for him to sample me as well, so he blew me as well. And I don’t know if it was just how sexy everything was or the fact that he told me it would feel better than anything else I’d ever felt, but I orgasmed almost instantly after he started. He drank everything up and then we kept talking. Honestly, I never imagined my first blow job would not only be with another dude, but would be that mind-blowing.

“I realized then that he was perfection and that I needed and wanted him to meet my family. He said that he liked collecting families and really messing with their dynamics. He said he’d done it many times and even with his own family. I didn’t really know what he meant by that, but when he suggested that I would want him to corrupt my family, I couldn’t help but agree. I wanted him, badly, to meet you all so he could mess with you the way he wanted to, even though I still have no idea what he meant or means by that. So I started asking if he could come over. He said it would be important that I act like everything was normal so he could sneak into your minds…whatever that meant. So I’m really happy he’s here in my life now and I guess in all of yours too. Best part of all, last night, he put his penis in my butt and it was even better than when I put it in my mouth. I lost my virginity to him and I couldn’t be happier or hornier about it.”

I could barely stand the anger and nausea I was experiencing sitting there listening to my youngest son talk about being gay with this disgusting person. Not only was he a creep and completely out of my sons league, but he was another man who somehow had corrupted him entirely. My son’s penis continued to throb in his underwear as he stood there looking longingly at the little pervert. I glanced at Linda, who looked just as angry as I did, and then to Jeff, who was staring just as longingly at Desmond as my other son. Shocked that my oldest seemed just as smitten with the little creep, I looked back over to Desmond myself and he just smirked at me.

“Stay seated there, Mr. Hawkins, and tell me, how did that story make you feel?” Desmond asked.

Without hesitation, “I’m revolted, disgusted, and humiliated that my own son would betray his upbringing, beliefs, and morals for someone like you. You’ve clearly corrupted him in some way and it appears as though you may have done something similar to Jeff and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it’s that juice you had him and the rest of drink.”

Desmond, for the first time, looked slightly shocked. “Wow! I’ll be honest, most families never put two and two together. I mean, granted, I’ve already won so I guess it doesn’t matter much but yes, indeed, it is the drink. It’s of my own design and I’ve used it many times. My family was my first conquest. My dad is now my servant and my two older brothers are as well. I’ll be honest, moving here was my idea. I’d grown tired of the town we were in before. Too many families I’d conquered and I’d wanted a fresh start in a small Midwestern town. All of those families are still fucked up and disgustingly perverted, sure, and always will be thanks to me; but didn’t mean they couldn’t gather enough money between them all to help with my families move. My dad and brothers just can’t work anymore these days. They’re too busy keeping me satisfied at all times.

“Your son, luckily, or unluckily I suppose, enough for you, was the very first person that caught my eye. And when I found out he was a virginal Catholic boy with an upstanding family, well, I just couldn’t resist! It really is your fault: being so manly and uptight and giving him such sexy genes. But enough ego-boosting for you, Frank. Real fast, tell me what the juice does, Mr. Hawkins?”

“It controls us somehow. You made my son gay for you with it. It’s an evil drink from Satan.”

“Sound reasoning and incredibly true! And what do you think will happen now that you’ve all drank some?”

“I’m, uh, worried you’re going to do similar things to me, Jeff, and possibly my wife.”

“Very true and astute. I do plan on making you as into me as your sons are, as I’m sure you’re incredibly happy to learn, Jeff has already been a bit rewired in your absence last night. I’m going to make you crave me and want me and I have even more brilliant, kinky, perverted plans for you and your sons. You’re going to suck my dick and take my dick and love my stench and you won’t be able to control yourself. But tell me, before I even get to any of that…do you want the last bit of this, what did you call it…evil drink from Satan?” Desmond said as he got up, grabbed the pitcher, and poured the last of the strange brew in the glass in front of me.

I stared at the drink before me. I knew, deep down, that he was already in control. I’d already had a drink. He’d evidently had Linda spike my coffee this morning as well. The drink would already be inside me, forcing me to obey his suggestions. But I wanted, desperately, to fight him off. I wanted to prove to myself and to him that he couldn’t do this to me. I didn’t want to be gay. I didn’t want to do what Clay had done to him. I wanted to save my family and myself from this evil and morally bankrupt young sociopath. I wanted to prove he was wrong about what he said. I wanted to prove that he couldn’t win. That I was stronger than the other people he’d said he’d controlled. I thought about Clay and what he did to him. I imagined what he’d already done to Jeff. I focused so hard on controlling my body and resisting the urge to drink it.

And then I drank it one full gulp. I just knew it was so good; just like Desmond told me it was earlier. I had to have it. I simply had to.

Tasting the tart brilliance as it went down my throat, I heard Desmond laugh behind me, “I kind of figured you’d want some more.”

Desmond sat back at the head of the table where I usually sat and looked over at me. I felt my face go bright red again; not from anger this time, but from shame. I’d given in. He’d won. He’d won the moment he gave my son Clay the drink at school. I didn’t know what Desmond had in store from here, but I knew he seemed to enjoy seeing me crumble.

“OK, now that you’re more than good to go, Mr. Hawkins, why don’t you go back downstairs and stay there all day, Linda? You don’t care about Frank, Clay, or Jeff at all any more. All the love and protection you felt for them as their wife and mother is gone. You really aren’t going to have much to do from here on out in this household beyond cleaning, laundry, cooking, and going to your job to make more money for us. You know this, accept it, and are OK with it. You don’t even want to talk to your husband, your sons, or me anymore at all. You will still, of course, listen to me whenever I tell you what to do or think.”

Without hesitation, Linda went across the room and down the stairs, my eyes following her every step of the way. From the sounds of Desmonds’ command, I wouldn’t see her again today and even if I did, she likely wouldn’t even have remotely the same love and light in her eye for me. I wanted to keep her memory fresh in my mind to get me through the chaos I knew was coming.

Desmond interrupted my reverie then, “Now that the cats out of the bag, lets fill your Dad in on the rest, Jeff. Clay, take off your underwear now and crawl under the table and get my cock out. You want to blow me while Jeff continues the story time. Jeff, take off your underwear as well, stand up, and tell you Dad everything that happened last night after he left. Tell the details, feeling so proud and horny about everything you did.”

Clay stood slightly next to me and allowed his erection to bounce out of the underwear that was tightly compacting it, I looked away, not wanting to see it. As Clay disappeared under the table and I felt him crawl towards Desmond, Jeff too stood up, revealing his large penis as well. I closed my eyes then, not wanting to see my boys’ penis. Unfortunately, Desmond noticed and commanded that I stare at my sons’ cock the entire time he told the story. Somewhat nauseated, I did just that.

I stared at the throbbing head of my sons’ thick and long cock, which looked much like my own, I thought to myself. It seemed both Clay and he had inherited my length and girth, I bitterly thought, as Jeff started, “After you left last night, Dad, Desmond started talking to us. I didn’t realize until this morning when you said it, but after drinking the juice, he could control us. Even knowing that now, I’m so happy that he did. He told Mom to go downstairs and had Clay strip right away. I was, naturally, incredibly disgusted at first. I’m straight and never wanted to see my younger brother naked. But as Desmond talked to me, I realized that Clays’ penis was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. That I wanted to worship it, love it, suck it, sniff it, take care of it. And he was right! Even now, knowing his penis is on display under the table, I can’t help but imagine it throbbing wonderfully and dripping precum and filling the room with its’ musky glory and God, I love his penis.”

I heard slurping from under the table and figured Clay was now sucking on Desmonds’ penis and listening to his brother recount his perverted desire for his penis. A new wave of nausea swept over me as I continued to watch Jeffs’ penis wave and throb as his story continued.

“It hit me hard and fast and with every word Desmond said, it felt more true. I didn’t realize that male musk was so fucking sexy and that I should avoid showering to build up my own and, even more, I didn’t know why I’d never wanted Clays’ penis before. I didn’t know why I’d never wanted to taste it and make it feel good and swallow its’ cum. Luckily, Desmond told me I could so I crawled under the table and sucked on Clay as best I could, knowing the most perfect thing in the world was in my mouth. Eventually, Desmond told us to go up to Clays’ room. I was even more lucky then because Desmond let Clay put his penis in my ass. We did it for hours, Dad. At one point, I think we heard you in the doorway. Desmond stood to the side so he couldn’t be seen but kept us going under the blankets as we laid on our sides. Afterwards, Desmond told us how hot it was that we were having sex right under your nose. He was right…I mean, I couldn’t help but agree how hot it was that you were watching us fuck one another without you knowing and I had such an amazing orgasm knowing you were in the doorway not knowing Clay was inside me. Oh God, even thinking about it now…it feels so…uhhhnggg”

As he said the last sentence, I watched in dismay as Jeff’s balls clenched, his penis got slightly thicker, and a thick wave of cum burped out the tip of his cock. I wanted, desperately, to look away from the disgusting ordeal, but my eyes remained focused on each dollop as it sprayed out, covering his breakfast and the table in his seed. Several mindless thrusts of his penis later, a string of his cum dangled from the tip of his penis. I couldn’t believe that the mere mentioning of his brother having sex with him could make him cum without even stroking his penis. The level of control Desmond had over my boys, their minds, and their bodies was terrifying.

We’d let the devil into our home and I could only imagine what he had in store for me hearing how he’d forced my boys to enjoy incest.

“Hey, before I continue,” Desmond dryly stated with his dead eyes staring at me and his lower body slightly rocking, seemingly forcing his penis deeper into my sons’ throat, “Jeff made a mess. Eat his cum, Mr. Hawkins.”

And I did. I reached over and scooped his thick, white semen into my mouth and ate it. I wretched a few times and nearly vomited towards the end. Some of it had mixed with his food, so I licked it off and placed the pancakes and bacon back on the plate. I mentally noted that with this power over us he had, he could have made me enjoy it like my boys now enjoyed each other, but he didn’t. Gagging with every warm, sticky glob I ate, I tried desperately not to vomit. After a hellish few moments of utter nausea, I sat back down and resumed my staring at Jeffs’ penis.

“Good boy,” Desmond said. “Clay, suck the balls now. And Mr. Hawkins? I do believe it’s your turn. Given how much you love rules, I’m going to make a few new ones in your home. How do you feel about that?”

Words erupted from my mouth, “I’m disgusted by you in general so I can only imagine what sick, repulsive, perverted rules you’d think of. I can’t believe you’d do this to my family. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t…”

“Shut up, Mr. Hawkins.”

I did.

Desmond continued with a look that showed more excitement than he’d shown the entire time I’d known him but still uncomfortably matter-of-factly, “You are excited about the new rules I’m going to provide for you. You are sexually excited that I’m going to force new rules on your boys and you. You are horny thinking about what perverted things I’m going to force you three to do under the guise of ‘house rules’. Nothing that has ever happened in your life before compares to how erotic and sexy the things you think I may do to you and your sons are. You are the horniest you’ve ever been trying to imagine what I may create as your new ‘house rules’.”

His words hit me hard and sudden…much like the penis in my pants. I turned red again. Not due to anger yet again, but embarrassment at how correct Desmond was. My mind filled with images of the three of us being nude because that was the rule and doing perverted and nasty things at certain times to stay on schedule. I imagined having Clay, cock dripping between my legs, lying naked on my lap as I gave him a spanking for keeping his door closed, my own cock erupting in cum on his chest as I slapped his red butt. I imagined Jeff and Clay performing oral sex on one another on the kitchen table, as was customary before we had any meal, with me stroking my erection watching them. I imagined all three of us showering together, eating out one anothers’ butt holes to make sure they were clean too. I imagined Jeff cumming on my face before bed because we couldn’t sleep without our facials.

I allowed my imagination to go somewhat wild, as Desmond suggested, in an attempt to meet his clearly perverse nature he’d already had my sons recount. I imagined all manner of sexual interactions with my boys and hated myself for feeling so turned on by it. I didn’t even know my imagination was capable of coming up with such insane, perverse, disgusting, homoerotic, incestuous scenes. My cock ached in my pants for these things to come to fruition.

“You like those thoughts, Mr. Hawkins?”

“Mmmm…yes…” I moaned, despite myself. I felt my underwear getting even wetter as my hard cock was streaming out a steady supply of precum in my pants.

“Really? Upstanding Catholic man like you is enjoying thinking about me making you a disgusting pervert who performs incestuous acts on and with his sons?”

The words hit me hard. He was right, I knew, as another slight moan slipped out of my mouth thinking about him making a rule that both my sons had to fuck my asshole every morning. I was completely aware that he’d forced this desire within me and that it was so horribly and terribly sinful, but I couldn’t help but find the situations Desmond might put us in so unbelievably sexy.

“Yes…so sexy…mmm…I don’t care. Please, Desmond. Please. You won. Please, please, please, make these new sexy rules. I need them. Oh…oh…heavens it feels so good,” I pleaded knowing my cock was controlling my words completely.

“Well. If you insist!”

And he spoke to the three of us for into the night, despite clearly ejaculating into Clays’ eager mouth several times, all three of us hanging on his every word.

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