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Additional Owners: The Meaner Nook

Corey Conforms

By Norismo
published June 9, 2021
2135 words
Summary

Grandpa sets his eyes on Corey

This story has been lying dormant for over two years now so I figured I would add to it, try to breathe some life back into it.

It was 12:01 when Mark followed his master-father into the house.

“Why the fuck does it smell like flowers in here, slave?”

The crushing look of disapproval from his master almost brought Mark to tears.

“I thought you’d appreciate me cleaning up your house, sir”

“That’s why you don’t get to make decisions boy, a man’s house is a reflection of who he is”

Grandpa puffed away at his cigar, filling the living room with smoke. Mark rubbed the bridge of his nose. The smell of the cleaning chemicals was starting to hurt his head. Grandpa lifted his leg and farted, filling the room with his wonderful smell. Mark took a few whiffs, grateful for the chance to smell a real man.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, call our boy down here”

“Corey, buddy, can you come down here a sec?” Mark called.

Corey quickly came running down the stairs. He wore a plain blue shirt that had been neatly ironed and some basketball shorts, and a pair of socks so white that Mark felt a little bit sick. Why in the world did he think it was ok to wash them? A man should smell like a man, not detergent. What kind of example was he setting for the boy?

“Hey dad, what’s up? Who is that guy? What’s that smell?” asked Corey, grimacing.

“Is that any way to talk about your Grandpa’s gas?” Master asked.

“Dad, what the fuck is going on? What happened to you? Who is this freak?”

Mark ran forward and delivered a savage punch to Corey’s gut.

“That’s no way to talk to yer elders” Mark said.

Grandpa walked forward, clutching Corey by the back of his head.

“There’s not an ounce of fat on you anywhere, boy, we’ll see about changing that”

He turned around, and Mark grabbed the back of Corey’s head, forcing him into master-father’s widening ass. His son’s screams were cut short by a long, hot, rancid fart that went straight into the boy’s mouth. The boy gagged violently, trying to pull away.

It was 12:31 when Mark followed his master-father into the house.

“When’s the last time you cleaned this place, slave?”

“Cleaned, sir? What do you mean?” Mark asked, confused.

Men should live like men. Empty beer cans and fast food containers were littered all along the table and floor of the living room. He followed behind his master on his hands and knees, crawling through the mess. At work he was a neat, ordered intellectual, and at home, he was a dumb, dirty pig. Grandpa sat down of the couch, putting his filthy feet up on the table. Master dug through a bag and pulled out a half-eaten cheeseburger, giving it a sniff before taking a massive bite. He chewed with his mouth open, scratching at his balls. He cocked his head and leaned to the side, holding the rest of the burger up to his ass. He lifted the bun and unleashed a wet, slimy sounding fart, before wiping his ass with the bread, squelching the burger back together.

“Slave, what the fuck did I tell you about finishing yer lunch? How do you expect to grow big and strong like yer ol’ man if you don’t eat?”

Master-father rammed the burger into Mark’s hungry mouth. It was still warm. It tasted just like Grandpa. He wiped some of the grease on his fingers onto his belly, rubbing it in.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, call our boy down here” Grandpa ordered.

“Corey, buddy, can you come down here a sec?” Mark called.

Corey quickly came running down the stairs. His blue shirt was crumbled and stained and he was still wearing his jockstrap from practice the night before. Mark caught a whiff of the kid’s ball sweat and grunted with approval. Corey’s long socks were stained black on the bottom as he walked through the grime and dust from the floor.

“Grandpa!” Corey yelled in excitement.

The boy tossed himself into Grandpa’s arms, rubbing his face along the man’s furry, sweaty chest. He delighted in seeing his son and his father-master exchanging wet, sloppy kisses, thick, gooey strings of saliva threading the two of them together like cobwebs. Corey squealed in delight when Grandpa unleashed a loud belch right into his face. Mark pawed at his filthy cock. Nothing got him off like Grandpa and Corey did. The family that played together stayed together. Why would the kid ever need to find himself a girlfriend when his Grandpa tasted so much better? They had plenty of time to think about the next generation of the White family. It would only take a few minutes to knock up some dumb little slut. The boy’s dick was certainly big enough to warrant attention. It was one of the many things the White men had inherited from Grandpa. The kid didn’t quite have the family gut yet, a high metabolism and an active sports life left him on the muscular side of stocky. He loved the way the boy’s fingers looked as he slid them over rolls of fat from master-father’s gut.

It was 1:01 when Mark followed his master-father into the house. Grandpa walked with purpose, let out small, toxic smelling farts every few steps. Mark loved how strong the smell was. The windows were never open, the smell simply grew and grew, denser and denser. He hated how the air smelled in the classroom. Sterile. Chemical. Still, the job let him make the mortgage payments on his father’s house. He’d been paying all of the bills since he was 16. His father had a hard enough job keeping Mark and Corey in line, teaching them what it meant to be a man. All Mark did was teach economics to a bunch of entitled, snobbish brats. There really was no comparison. He often fantasised about stripping naked in the class and jerking off with one of Corey’s truly rancid jockstraps. Get fucking fired. Get fucking arrested. He’d never get another fucking job with a criminal record. His cock felt raw from stroking it, but master-father looked down at him with such pride that Mark knew he’d never stop until he bled if Grandpa wanted it.

“What the fuck did you order in the last food delivery, slave?” Grandpa grunted.

Rice crackers and low calorie snacks were tossed out of the cabinets and onto the kitchen floor.

“Where are the pork rinds? The chips? The cookies? What is all this shit?”

“I’m sorry sir, I must have ordered all this stuff by mistake sir.”

“That doesn’t sound like something a slave who deserves to sniff Grandpa’s farts would do”

Mark was sobbing, grabbing on to his master-father’s legs, terrified that the man was going to kick him out onto the street.

“I’ll eat it all sir, I’ll place another order! I’ll pay extra for next-day delivery!”

“What did I tell you about making decisions, slave?”

“I’ll never do it again sir, please don’t leave me. Please!” Mark sobbed.

“Well, I suppose I could wait a few hours until our afternoon snack, what are you thinking this time, slave, pizza?”

“Whatever you want sir! I don’t know nothing!”

“G’boy. That’s right, kid, you need yer daddy to make decisions for you”

Mark was delighted to back in his daddy’s good graces. He could be a cruel and fickle man, but only when Mark deserved it. Daddy was staring at him, expectantly. His pulse was racing. What did his Daddy want him to do? Did he miss out on some subtle clue? He wasn’t all that smart after a few huffs of his father’s farts.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, call our boy down here” Grandpa ordered. Mark sprinted to the bottom of the stairs.

“Corey, buddy, can you come down here a sec?” Mark screamed, frantically.

Corey slowly sauntered down the stairs, his exposed dick flopping with every step. Naked as nature intended. His rank, filthy jockstrap was pressed firmly into his face. Mark’s chest swelled with pride. It was important that a man could get off on just his own musk. The only thing better was the musk of an older man.

Corey smiled widely at seeing his Grandpa, falling obediently to his knees, face burrowed into the man’s ripe ass just in time for another fart. Mark could hear the sound, could imagine the heat, the taste. Hot, burning jealousy consumed him and he shoved Corey out of the way, and slipped his head into the crack. Daddy was laughing, his big, soft belly giggling hypnotically.

“Calm down, boys, Grandpa’s got enough gas for the two of ya, now, why don’t you two boys make Grandpa real happy and kiss and make up? You know I hate it when you bicker”

Mark felt a crushing sense of guilt at how he had acted. The boy needed Grandpa’s gas just as much as he did. He pulled the pouting boy close, taking care to whiff the growing stench of stale sweat that was emanating from the boy’s pits. He moaned dramatically, praising the boy for cultivating such a magnificently masculine musk. Their lips mashed together, their tongues danced as Grandpa rubbed the back of their heads affectionately.

“You boys are mine. I’ll change you the way I see fit. You’ll think, do, act and look how I want. Because you belong to me.” Grandpa reaffirmed.

“Yes sir!” Mark and Corey agreed.

“You’re just my dumb little piglets, aren’t ya?”

Mark and Corey could only moan.

“Now Corey, run and get your socks.”

“My socks, sir?” Corey asked dumbly.

“Boy, how can we use yer baseball socks as cumrags if you’ve left em upstairs?”

“Sorry, sir, I must have forgotten.”

“That’s alright kid, yer not too bright, just like yer daddy. Grandpa will always take care of ya”

Corey ran upstairs to grab his socks. They had more than a few cum stains in them already. The three of them sat down on the old, grimy couch and Grandpa turned on the TV, sifting through to the porn channels. Mark obediently entered his credit card information. The scene opened to a scene of a janitor sweeping the floor. The guy was fucking ugly, with greasy, pocked skin, tangled, unwashed hair, and large, yellowed teeth that were far too big for his mouth. Mark had never been so turned on by a porno in his life.

Daddy began wrapped his arms around Mark and Corey’s shoulders, dousing him in his eye burningly intense BO that drove the two of them wild.

A group of young thugs appeared on the screen, getting the janitor’s attention.

“Hey! Fuckface! The john’s fucking clogged. Move your ass!” The lead thug called.

The janitor obediently followed, and the camera panned, showing a toilet filled to the brim with toilet paper. When the janitor knelt down to inspect it, the thugs knocked him off balance, slamming his face into the pool of water.

“That’s it man! Wash your fucking face!” One of the thugs called.

They pulled the man out and Mark watched the toilet water drip down the man’s hideous face. He really did look so much better with clumps of toilet paper clinging to him. The thugs grabbed the roll of toilet paper from the dispenser and passed it around, each of them pulling down their pants and wiping their asses. The janitor opened his mouth and the lads shoved the used toilet paper inside roughly until the man’s cheeks were bulging. He began to chew feverishly, drool running down his chin. The thugs gathered around him in a circle and began to jerk off, moaning and insulting him until they splattered his boiler suit with thick ropes of cum. The man’s eyes rolled back and a wet patch formed at his crotch as he ejaculated hands free. The film ended and the credits began to roll.

“Now boys, don’t bust your loads yet, we’ve got all afternoon to edge ourselves, fill our bate cave with our stink. Hell, maybe we’ll jerk off all weekend. It ain’t like you’ve got plans.”

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