It all started with my best friend Jake. We were tight since high school, two horny dudes navigating the shitshow of life. Jake's old man was a real piece of work—a straight-as-an-arrow truck driver, built like a fucking tank, but abusive as hell. He'd smack Jake around for nothing, then hit the road for weeks, hauling loads and probably dipping his dick in every truck stop whore along the way. One day, the bastard just up and left Jake and his mom for some cheap hookup slut he met in a dingy bar. Left them high and dry, no money, no nothing. Jake's mom spiraled into depression, and Jake? He snapped. From that moment, he hated cheating married men with a fire that burned hotter than hell. "Those fucks ruin families," he'd rant. "I'm gonna make 'em pay—by turning their asses into my personal cum dumps."
That's how the game began. Jake owned this rundown motel on the outskirts of town—a messy shithole with peeling wallpaper and beds that creaked like they were begging for mercy. It was perfect for our setup. We'd hop on social sites, catfishing as hot, desperate girls looking for no-strings hookups with married dads. "Discreet fun with a naughty wife-cheater," our profiles screamed. These dumbasses bit every time, their wedding rings practically choking their fingers as they snuck away from their families. Once they checked into the motel, we'd pose as room service, slip something into their drinks—nothing lethal, just enough to knock 'em out cold. Then the real fun started.
Jake dragged me into it after his first solo takedown. "Corry, bro, you gotta try this," he grinned, showing me a video of some pot-bellied dad, tied spread-eagle on the bed, his hairy ass gaping from Jake's 7-inch cock. We'd brutalize them—slamming our dicks in raw, no lube at first, making 'em scream through the gags. Vulgar shit spilled from our mouths: "Take it, you cheating pig! Your wife's pussy ain't enough, huh? Now you're my bitch!" We'd film every thrust, every whimper, then blackmail 'em. "Pay up or this goes to your family." But we didn't stop there. We'd keep fucking 'em, turning these straight, alpha dads into whimpering bottom slaves. Chastity cages locked on their pathetic cocks, denying 'em release while we bred their holes night after night. The motel room reeked—thick with cum, musk, and dad sweat, stains crusting the sheets like battle scars. Once they were broken, fully addicted to our cocks, we'd abandon 'em. Mock 'em online anonymously, ruin their reps. Jake got his revenge; I got free, brutal fucks. Win-win.
We even nailed our high school bully's dad—a burly construction worker who'd raised that asshole son of his. Lured him in easy, thinking he was scoring with a teen slut. Woke up tied, blindfolded, and we tag-teamed him for hours. "Fuck yeah, bully's daddy, choke on my 9-incher while Jake reams your shithole!" I growled, forcing my monster dick down his throat until he gagged and puked. By the end, he was our personal slave, crawling back for more, locked in chastity, begging us to use him. We milked him dry—financially and literally—then ghosted him. Left him a shattered mess.
But shit hit the fan one night when Jake texted me: "Got a prime catch. Straight muscle hairy truck driver. Cheating scum. Come over—your turn to break him in." I showed up horned up, my 9-inch beast throbbing in my jeans. Jake had the guy blindfolded and tied to the bedposts, face down, ass up. He was a beast—broad shoulders, thick fur covering his chest and back, legs like tree trunks. His hole winked at me, pink and tight under the hair. "Blindfold yourself too, bro," Jake said with a smirk. "Heightens the senses." I shrugged, tied the cloth over my eyes, and dove in.
I didn't hold back. Slammed my massive cock into his ass dry at first, ripping a muffled scream from his taped mouth. "Fuck, this hole's tight! Gripping like a virgin whore!" I grunted, pounding brutally, my balls slapping his furry thighs. He bucked and shook, legs trembling as I reamed him deeper. Vulgar filth poured out: "You cheating dad slut, take my 9 inches! I'm gonna flood your guts!" He peed then—hot piss spraying from his caged cock (Jake must've locked him up already), soaking the sheets. It only made me harder. I fucked him senseless, my dick stretching his hole to the limit, cum building until I exploded, pumping rope after rope into him. "Best ass I've ever fucked," I panted, pulling out to watch my seed leak from his gaping, hairy hole like a river.
Jake untied the guy's mouth but kept him bound. The dad groaned, passed out from the intensity. Then Jake said, "Remove your blindfold, Corry." I did—and froze. It was my own fucking dad, Brody. My straight, tough trucker dad, lying there with his ass wrecked, cum oozing out.
Rage hit me like a truck. I grabbed Jake by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "What the fuck, man? That's my dad!" I cursed, spitting fury. Dad was out cold, his hairy hole still twitching, leaking my load. Jake just laughed. "Chill, bro. Your dad's been cheating for years. Fucking whores on the road, betraying your mom while playing the perfect father at home."
It stopped me cold. Memories flooded: Dad's late nights, the "business trips," Mom's sad eyes when he was gone. She loved him so much, and he'd been dicking around behind her back. Still, I was pissed. "You shouldn't have made me fuck my own dad!" I yelled.
Jake pulled out his phone, showing the video. There I was, blindfolded, brutalizing Dad's ass. But zoom in—Dad's tongue lolled out in ecstasy, his body arching back like he craved it. "Look closer," Jake said. "He knew it was you, Corry. I whispered it in his ear mid-fuck. Told him his own son was reaming him with that 9-inch monster. And he didn't stop—kept bitching out, moaning for more."
I couldn't process it. Furious, I stormed out, leaving Dad tied and leaking. Jake shrugged and left too. Lucky for us, Dad was on a haul, not due home for days.
Two days later, the itch hit. I needed to fuck a dad—hard. Called Jake. He answered panting, heavy breaths and slaps in the background. "Dude, come quick. This slut ain't satisfied with my 7 inches. Needs that 9-incher again."
I knocked on the motel door, hearing moans: "Yeah! Yeah! Fuck me like my son! Rape my ass! I'm your bitch!" Heart pounding, I opened it—and there was Dad on all fours, hairy back arched, getting railed by Jake. "Hey, dude," Jake waved, slamming deep and cumming with a groan, flooding Dad's hole right in front of me.
"What the fuck?" I stammered. Dad's face was red, embarrassed, avoiding my eyes, but his cock strained in the chastity cage, dripping pre-cum.
"Couldn't help it, bro," Jake said, pulling out with a wet pop. Cum gushed from Dad's wrecked ass. "Your dad called me the next day, begging for more. Said that fuck awakened something. I've been pounding him non-stop for two days, but he's insatiable. Needs your monster."
I stared at Dad. "Is that true?" He nodded, humiliated, but his eyes burned with lust.
Jake grinned. "This pig's still hungry, Corry. What do you say?"
My cock was rock-hard, tenting my pants. Seeing my straight, tough dad reduced to a moaning slut... it hurt, but fuck, it turned me on. Dad's hunger was feral. Jake egged him: "Don't you want your son's monster again, Brody? The one that made you bitch out?"
Dad erupted: "Please, son! Fuck me! Fuck your dad! Make me your bitch! I need that huge, potent dick overflowing in me!"
Hesitation shattered. I stripped, my 9-inch beast springing free, veiny and throbbing. Dad crawled forward, ass up, hole gaping from Jake's load. I grabbed his hairy hips, slamming in balls-deep. "You cheating whore! Begging your own son to wreck you?" I growled, pounding brutally. Dad screamed in ecstasy: "Yes! Rape Daddy's ass! Breed me, son!"
It was savage. I fucked the piss out of him—literally, his cage squirting as I hammered his prostate. "Take it, you muscle slut! Your hairy hole's mine now!" Sweat poured off us, musk thick in the air, cum from before squelching with each thrust. Seeing my tuff dad bitching out on my dick made me sad at first—remembering family dinners, him teaching me to drive. But his ass clenched like velvet vice, milking me, forgetting all worries. "Fuck yeah, Dad! Moan like the bottom bitch you are!"
Jake filmed, jerking off. "Tag-team time!" He shoved his cock in Dad's mouth, spit-roasting him. Dad gagged, slurping greedily: "Mmmph! Son's cock in my ass, best friend's in my throat!" We brutalized him—me reaming his guts, Jake face-fucking till tears streamed. Dad's body shook, tongue out, eyes rolled back in lustful surrender.
I flipped him on his back, legs over my shoulders, pounding deeper. "Look at me, Dad! See your son owning your cheating ass!" He did, shame mixing with bliss. "I'm your slave, Corry! Cum in Daddy!" I exploded, flooding him with hot ropes, his hole overflowing like a cum river. He pissed again, shaking, as orgasm ripped through him despite the cage.
We didn't stop. For hours, we used him—double-penetrating his stretched hole, my 9 inches and Jake's 7 stretching him impossibly. "Feel that, Brody? Two cocks ruining you!" Dad whimpered: "Yes! Destroy me!" The room stank of cum, sweat, piss—our twisted revenge complete.
In the end, Dad became our ultimate slave. Chastity-locked, begging for our loads daily. It started as fury, but now? Fucking my own dad, turning him into my bitch... it's the hottest, most vulgar high. Revenge tastes like cum, and I'm addicted. And we even made Dad bring his hottest friend who was built like a tank from years of gym. Now, I fuck my Dad every day in our own home.
