Corporal Punishment: A Last Resort

Damon woke up in his father’s bed, wrapped up in a fluffy comforter and surrounded by his dad’s woodsy scent. The air was comfortably humid and warm, like his dad had just gotten out of the shower in the ensuite bathroom.

Last night’s memories were hazy, the same way they had been the last time his dad had spanked him. He remembered his dad helping him up the stairs, supporting most of his weight. When they’d gotten upstairs, his dad guided him to his bedroom instead of Damon’s, and Damon had followed unquestioningly, spacey and not all there. His dad deposited him in the huge walk-in shower, easing him onto the cool tile bench that both soothed his skin and increased the ache on his asscheeks. He turned on the water and the room filled with steam, adding to the surreal atmosphere, and tugged Damon’s shirt over his head. Damon was reminded in that moment that he’d been half, and now was fully, naked.

Dad unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the granite countertop, and did the same with his pants. Damon had seen his dad naked before, but never in this way. When he removed his underwear and his cock sprung out, long and thick and heavy, Damon gulped nervously. It was the biggest Damon had seen outside of porn. Did his dad want him to…?

Dad stepped into the shower, and he turned on the shower head behind Damon. The hot water made him flinch at first, then he melted into the bench. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was amazing, the dual sensation of the cool tile at his back and the warmth everywhere else.

His dad was talking, and Damon had wondered how long he’d been trying to get his attention. He didn’t look annoyed, just attentive. 

Dad was going to wash him.

He'd soaped up his big, strong hands, rubbing them to a lather, then he used them to clean Damon, lingering in some spots to knead the tension out of his muscles, sending Damon further into a blissful stupor.

"How's that feel?"

“S’good,” he slurred, and his dad chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

He cleaned Damon’s cock, balls, and ass the same way he had the rest of his body, giving his cock a loving stroke, squeezing his balls gently, and rubbing his fingers up and down his taint, circling his asshole and dipping in just a bit, making Damon gasp. He was hard again, but he was too tired to think about rubbing one out. Which reminded him that he had cum on his dad earlier. He should probably apologize.

His dad had left, and Damon was lonely for a moment until he returned with a fluffy bath sheet. He wrapped it around Damon, and Damon prepared himself to stand, but before he could, his dad picked him up, carrying him the short distance to the bed. He'd dried his hair and his body, taking extra care to make sure his balls were dry. It was a nice touch.

Dad had then turned him on his stomach and applied the cream on his ass, making Damon squirm and whine pathetically. Then…lights out.

Damon fell asleep, deep and dreamless, back kept warm by the body pressed naked against him the entire night, semi erect cock nestled between his cheeks.

It all felt like a dream, like maybe the memories belonged to someone else. He hoped not. He wanted to keep them.

Now that the floaty feeling had abandoned him, and he was alone with his thoughts, he did have some minor concerns. Like 'what the fuck,' and also 'why the fuck,' and 'what in the incest.' His dad had spanked him, that could be explained. But he was hard. And Damon was hard. And he’d cum on his dad. And they’d kissed, and Damon was pretty sure he’d tasted cum. Only one of them came that he knew of, which meant his dad had eaten Damon’s cum. That was all weird, right? His dad fingering his ass, even in the name of hygiene, was also weird. And his cock sneaking into a crease that only saw action from a washcloth and toilet paper (and his dad’s fingers, apparently.)

The worst part–probably the best part, because he wasn’t that ignorant–was that he liked it. He was straight, not a masochist, and didn’t give much thought to incest, but when it did come up, he…well, he wasn’t as disgusted as his peers, because live and let live, but like…gross, right? But the more he thought about it, the less he could articulate why what he and his dad did last night was wrong. That kiss…that kiss was everything. It felt like he’d only ever experienced a facsimile of a kiss, not realizing it wasn’t the real thing until he'd gotten a taste of the original. And it was his dad who gave him that. And it wasn’t even dirty. Just comforting.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shoving his face into the pillow. “My dad is an amazing kisser,” he said to no one, though it came out more like ‘mfudamakiher.’

Damon turned his face to the side. “I’m gay,” he said, but no, that didn’t sound right. “I’m bisexual,” he tried, but that still didn’t sound right. “I’m…” He needed to google more terms. His dad would know. 

Dad was the opposite of a bigot. Even though he was all Mr. Corporate, suit wearing, and feeding the money hungry execs and shareholders at his job, he’d made it a priority to educate Damon on the queer community, racism, privilege, and how to use that privilege to step back and raise up voices that were otherwise being ignored. His dad advocated for people on his team and others who needed help, pushing the higher ups into creating safe spaces in the workplace and assisting in organizing advocacy events at his job.

Damon hung his head. God, no wonder his dad finally beat his ass.

Damon knew he was a piece of shit. He hated himself. But something about his dad beating him while simultaneously expressing his love melted some of the self-loathing eroding his insides, healing the parts of him that could see the world for what it was while being less concerned about the cesspool inside of his own mind.

Fuck, maybe he was depressed.

Damon checked his phone.

Dad: I had to go into the office. I expect you to have a 1000 word essay explaining why Daddy punished you written by 2 pm.

Damon rolled his eyes. Assigning homework? And calling himself Daddy, with a capital D, in the third person was so cringe. “Daddy,” Damon said, and his cock twitched. Dammit.

He continued reading the texts.

Dad: If you fail to meet the criteria or miss the deadline, you will receive 30 marks with the cane.

Damon didn’t notice how badly his ass was throbbing until he saw the threat of being caned. Did he mean he was going to beat him with, like, a stick? That didn’t sound good. And thirty times? Thirty?? That seemed excessive.

Damon checked the time. It was eleven.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he cried, rolling out of his father’s bed and running–well, limping–to grab his laptop.

---

Emmett’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he discreetly checked it under the table. It was an email notification from his son with a subject reading ‘Why Daddy Punished Me.’ He could almost hear it in his son’s voice, the hint of sarcasm where if one wasn’t accustomed to it they may not notice. Damon had, of course, inherited that from Emmett.

Emmett fought a smirk as he skimmed the essay. It wasn’t exactly heartfelt, and there was plenty of snark, but it was clear that he’d put in some effort. Emmett half expected that his son would meet the cane that evening, though he had plans to go easy on him, because his pert little ass had shadows of purple and blue on it when he’d checked that morning before leaving the house. The poor kid had been exhausted, not even waking up when he'd rubbed more cream on his skin.

“Emmett, how does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Emmett said, pocketing his phone and standing. He didn’t give much of a shit, still pissed that he’d been dragged into work at the last minute on a Saturday morning to meet with a client who had backed previously out so they could use their biggest competitor instead. He could have been home, snuggling his son, waking him up with kisses and soft caresses. But instead, he was being professional. It was dreadful. “My team is more than capable of handling this project.”

As they shook hands, all he could think about was going home to his son.

---

Damon couldn’t wear pants. Seriously, Damon could not wear pants. Not even underwear. His ass was on fire. He found the cream daddy–no, dad. Googling Daddy/boy relationships half the morning had mixed up his brain–had applied to his butt cheeks the night before, but it felt nowhere near as good as when his dad did it.

Damon heard the front door open and he snapped his laptop closed in panic. He didn’t know why he was panicking, exactly. It was perfectly normal for his father to be home in the late afternoon on Saturdays. Maybe it was the fact that he was in a vulnerable position, lying naked on his belly with his ass out looking like an invitation. Maybe it was because, in a lapse in judgment, he decided he’d start leaving his door open instead of closing his dad out, metaphorically and physically. Maybe it was because he was embarrassed that he was doing homework on a Saturday instead of something more interesting. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t wear pants!

Before Damon could shut his door or hide under the bed or perhaps defenestrate himself, his dad’s big body filled the doorway. And if Damon was worried about how he looked…well, the long, appreciative onceover his dad was giving him was a boost to the ego. And made his asshole clench on instinct.

“Some of my best work,” dad mused, walking over to the bed with slow, purposeful strides. Damon’s bruised ass kept flexing and clenching under the attention, and his cock was chubbing up fast. It was made worse when his dad dragged his fingertips up and down Damon’s cheeks, goosebumps erupting on his flesh. “Beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Damon shivered. The teasing fingers on his cheeks made his cock plump up as though they were stroking it directly. And despite all they’d been through, especially last night, Damon was still embarrassed that he was getting a boner in front of his dad. Because of his dad.

Emmett’s lips tilted up in a smirk. Damon tried to scowl at him, but it was hard to look indignant when one’s ass was in the breeze. It was pretty cute, though.

“You did a good job on your essay,” Emmett said neutrally. He could tell his son was nervous, and unfortunately, due to the circumstances, Emmett thought it would be in his best interest to stay that way. To defer to Daddy. To fear his wrath. He’d rather rule with an iron fist than have his son out all night, doing drugs and drinking, and worst of all, not speaking to him. 

“Thanks,” his son said, voice a little choked. He could tell from the way Damon was squirming that the boy was aroused.

Dryly, Emmett added, “Could’ve done without the snark.”

Damon huffed. “I wanted it to have personality.”

“Mm,” hummed Emmett, climbing onto the bed and straddling his son’s legs. “You succeeded.” He continued tracing his fingers over his son’s bruised ass, enjoying the shivers and little noises of discomfort. His son was stunning like this, turned on and uncertain of himself, like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t aroused. As if Emmett would judge him. As if that wasn’t exactly the feeling he was purposefully evoking.

“I’m proud of you.”

Damon went rigid, and not just in his cock. Proud of him? “F-for what?” His dad’s face was extremely close to his ass right now, so close he could feel his warm breath as he exhaled.

“I could tell you put a lot of thought into your writing,” his dad explained. “You proved to me that you know what you did wrong, and that you're sorry.”

Damon pouted. “I didn’t say that.”

His dad pressed his face into his ass like one might press their face into a lover's shoulder to hide a smile. Damon could still feel it. “Must’ve read it in all that personality you added.”

Damon didn’t know how he could be so irritated with his dad in a father-son way while simultaneously being so horny in a very un-father-son way.

The part that pissed Damon off the most about the stupid ass essay was that his dad was right, and it had been effective. It forced him to look inside of himself, and unsurprisingly, he didn’t like what he saw.

“Now, I want to reward you,” his dad continued, sliding his face up and down Damon’s ass, gently scraping his skin with the stubble there. “Show you what you get for hard work and obeying orders.

“H-how?” Damon asked breathlessly.

Instead of responding, his dad spread his cheeks. Damon hissed at the sudden pressure on his bruises. He was quickly distracted, however, when he felt a breeze in a place he never wanted to feel air ever, then he felt…oh, wow, that was something. His dad was nuzzling between his cheeks, in his crease. It was an icky, unfamiliar sensation, but at the same time, Damon’s cock was rock hard and a gush precum oozed from the tip, soaking into the sheets beneath him.

Damon gasped when he felt something wet and slimy drag over his hole. “Ohhhhhhmygodohmygod.” His brain might have been squicked out but his body was not. Never in his life had he felt something like that. It was gross and foreign but at the same time so, so good. Fucking fantastic.

Once Emmett had softened his son’s hole, he plunged his tongue past his son’s sphincters and began fucking it in and out of him. 

Damon keened loudly. “Daddy!”

Emmett groaned, sucking on his son’s ass, nibbling at it. Hearing that, his son calling out to him, breathy and obscene, was fulfilling in a way he hadn’t ever considered. Giving his son pleasure, showing him something he never knew could feel so good, was a privilege. He felt closer to him than he had ever dared hope for.

Damon squirmed on the bed, a writhing mess, hands fisting in the sheets and pillows toppling over the sides. He was sweating, and his face was on fire. He was humping the bed like a kid having a wet dream, but he needed more. 

Damon slid a hand under his body so he could jerk his cock, but his dad grabbed his wrist and pinned it in place. “Daddy, please!” he wailed. His hips shifted on the mattress, alternating between grinding back on his dad’s face and rubbing his cock on the sheets.

Emmett took pity on his son and sat up far enough to flip him on his back. Damon looked confused and desperate, giving his dad big eyes, and Emmett’s heart swelled at how adorable and needy he looked. He decided to put his son out of his misery.

Damon gasped, mouth falling open, keeping his eyes locked on Emmett as he sucked on the head, savoring the salty-sweet taste he’d gotten only a sample of the night before.

Damon didn’t have enough time to even process that his dad was sucking his cock, then he was swallowing it. And he did mean swallowing it. The whole thing, down the gullet, into his throat. Damon wasn’t small. He wasn’t as big as his dad, sure, but his dad had kind of a monster cock. 

Damn, this was cocksucking. Garnet could only dream of giving head this well. Christ, had he thought he was getting good blowjobs before? He was mistaken. This was top tier. The epitome of good head. The kind of head one makes deals with the devil to experience, and maybe he’d made a deal without realizing, and the catch was that the amazing head came from his own father.

It seemed like all the best things in life were punishable offenses, like society was designed so that humans had to be miserable.

But was this really what incest was all about? Because sign him up, he was happy to go to hell if that was where all the cocksuckers were going to be.

Damon couldn’t warn his dad he was about to cum because the orgasm hit him out of nowhere, but his dad swallowed all of his jizz like a seasoned pro–and there was a lot of it.

Damon knew that wasn’t a rookie blowie, but he felt too good to question it, melting into the bed and riding the aftershocks.

Emmett nursed his son’s cock until he was sure he’d gotten every last drop of his cream. Damon seemed to become one with his bed, basking in orgasmic bliss.

Emmett laid down next to him, and his son rolled over so he was snuggling into his chest. Emmett circled the naked teenager in his arms, trailing his fingers up and down his back like he had his butt earlier, and the same goosebumps erupted on his skin. Emmett pulled the blanket up over him, and Damon was practically purring like a kitten.

Emmett knew they would have to talk about what was going on between them, and about the family tradition, eventually.

For now, he just wanted to hold his son.

---

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading chapter four! I have chapter five written, it just needs an edit. I'm not sure how long to continue this story. As a reader, I prefer closure and a solid HEA. If I left it here, however, you (the reader) can kind of make up your own ending/epilogue. Let me know if anyone has strong feelings about this/thinks I should continue this story. I have A LOT of ideas for this story, which is why I'm like "I could write this forever." Especially since I love Irvine (Damon's cousin/Dax's son) so much. I know he's gotten like zero screen time, but Irvine is in most of chapter five (the next chapter.)

I’d love any feedback or constructive criticism, so if you have thoughts, feel free to leave me a comment and/or rating! 🥰