Suffering for my son's fun

Freedom can move your life and it can be seen even in the hardest conditions, together with love and friendship, happiness and beauty. Have a look at the life of eight beggars who live together at: luces-delatierra.blogspot.com or in English at: lightsoftheearth.blogspot.com

I was crossing then The Heroes’ Park, with my son Hugh beside me. We were heading to our friend Marlene Rockford’s house. She had just been awarded a literary prize. She had written some novels but her newest one, called Don’t ask the stars, also a love novel, was incredibly well written and caught the reader’s attention at once. And I was her literary agent and was going to her house where she was having a little party to celebrate her award and the obvious increase in her incomes. Ever since my wife left me, I, Adrian Willoughby, had started to work at a publishing house called Thalia since my life was literature and maybe one day I had the guts to write a novel, only that I had had no idea so far of what to write. And I had spent nine years there since I was 38. I was 47 now and I walked happily with my son to the party.

My son, Hugh Willoughby, was 25 now and worked as a gym instructor and I had just picked him up. He came with me to the party because Marlene had also invited him, having a great affection for my son. He told me the gym shower, only one, it seemed, was not working, and he could not have a necessary shower. Now he stank and he told me he would only greet Marlene and little else. I understood him of course; I had always understood him. Three years ago he had opened his heart to me and bravely told me that he was gay. I loved my son whatever he was and I embraced him affectionately and always respected him. He had no boyfriend now. But that very day I had to discover a new facet in him: what a dominant son I had, something I never guessed. But he was my pride and joy and the only one I cared about now and I always liked him, no matter what.

So we were happily crossing the park, but I knew well I should find a toilet soon for I had a great need to piss. Unfortunately there were no bars nearby and there came a moment I told Hugh I did not have a chance but find a hidden place between the trees and piss. He sat on a bench and said he would wait for me and I approached a cluster of dark trees and started to relieve my bladder.

It all happened in a minute. I still had not finished peeing but was about to end when I felt a strong smell of sweat behind me. It was not Hugh; whoever it was smelled strongly but differently. He grabbed me in a brutal hammerlock and before I had had any time to think, and unable to defend myself, I noticed him pulling down my pants and in no time I felt a dick in my ass. That bastard, whoever he was, was raping me.

-Good, beautiful boy. I like men your age and you’ll be here quietly having some fun with me –that bastard told me with the voice of a drunk.

I could not move but I could use my voice and desperately shouted.

-Hugh! Help, please!

The bastard then put one of his hands in my mouth to silence me. Now I could not even scream for help but I still had the hope that Hugh would come to rescue me.

Meanwhile the bastard –I never knew the name of my first rapist and never saw him again- was enjoying what he was doing and from time to time he spoke to humiliate me a bit more. His dick was causing me an unbearable torture and I only hoped he was a premature ejaculator and came soon in my ass and the torture would end. I had never felt the need to be fucked; I had never been attracted to boys and even I had come to think I was asexual. Prior to meeting Kelly I had scarcely had any sex. My wife and I did not have sex every day, and after she left me, I had only hooked up with two girls if I remember correctly. I always thought I did not like sex, neither girls nor boys and in fact in this rape I was having for the first time something similar to gay sex. But he was not fucking me cause I had never given him my consent. His cock was remorselessly ripping me open and what I had prayed, his cumming soon, did not happen. I hoped Hugh had heard me and would come. But in that moment I saw my son but couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

I saw him hidden behind some bushes and believing I could not see him he had taken his dick out and had started to jack off, apparently greatly amused at the show he was seeing, his father being raped. I could not believe my son was such a great bastard who rather than making any effort to release me was jerking himself off seeing how someone raped his father.

There are moments in life that one is unable to explain. But seeing my son as a bastard there had an incredibly unexpected consequence. I shot a load; no, not just a load, but the greatest amount of semen I had spilled in my life. I had never had before such an explosive orgasm and I can say that was the first moment in my life I felt was sex fun was, in those conditions, being raped and watching my son jacking off over me and cumming the moment he saw me blasting a load. Even then I was sure I was not enjoying the rape, let alone with a bastard who stank and never stopped talking to humiliate me more and when he saw me cumming got the wrong conclusion and told me he was glad I was enjoying. And I think Hugh must have reached the same wrong conclusion, seeing his father cum in that moment, apparently enjoying being fucked, more because my face must be a real poem of lust after that orgasm. I never reproached Hugh anything, let alone after that first moment when I had discovered sex after having always believed I did not like it, even when what was happening to me was not sex, I knew, but being forced and raped. But it is true I had just had the greatest orgasm of my life.

It’s impossible to describe what I felt. My dick had turned suddenly into a fountain with a thousand faucets of fun. I felt that orgasm was melting my balls and they desperately created more and more semen to spill in that central moment. At the same time my vulnerable ass, which was still mercilessly being raped, contracted so the fun came unsuspectedly to a new part of my body. And the heat of that extreme pleasure came to my whole body then and my face had to be contorted too as all my body was becoming alive.

What’s the use of not admitting things at once? I was not gay, I was not a masochist and I was discovering my son was a bastard who seemed delighted at what was happening, now beating off again and surely thinking I was enjoying after my explosive orgasm. All I knew is that he is my flesh and blood; I had always liked him and would never tell him any angry words for his fun now. I accept you just as you are, Hugh, and if you’re having fun seeing your father being raped, then enjoy. After that moment, I never liked him less, but paradoxically I liked him more. I don’t have any hope that I can be understood. I had hoped the bastard finished raping me soon, but now I had the determination to want a longer rape with the only intention that my son kept on having fun. I knew my only fun, even sexual fun, after that moment, would be suffering for my son’s fun. Only thus maybe I would have more explosive orgasms in the future. Now I wanted a long rape but just then the bastard of my first rapist shot a load in my ass.

When I had thought that would be the end and curiously prayed that he wanted more fun at me so he made me suffer more and Hugh’s fun, my only concern now, would increase, the bastard turned me then just a bit and kissed me strongly. I knew Hugh could see me and that certainty made my cock go some inches higher. I was suffering again cause that man’s breath really stank, it smelled of whisky. When he had turned me, I had seen his face. He was an ugly man in his forties, curly dark hair and an unkempt beard and incredibly even his beard stank. He was covered with stains of sweat all over and even his clothes were greasy. Maybe he was a mechanic and had been having a drink after finishing his work today. It was not eight o’clock yet. The kiss finally ended but the torment did not finish. I heard him say.

-There has to be more, you beautiful boy. I have seen you enjoying for you blasted a huge load when I was fucking you. I think you’ve done this more times. But whether that’s true or not, now I want you to suck my cock.

I had never sucked a cock before and I was sure it would disgust me, more when it was the cock of such a nauseating bastard. But I had silently prayed that man would torture me more so Hugh could have the funniest night of his life. Now he was also gonna see how his father sucked a cock. So I did not think much about it. The bastard had made me kneel down and with disgust I approached the bastard’s dick and started to suck it. Hugh was of course whacking off, enjoying the vision of his father giving a blowjob. That man’s dick was disgusting. I didn’t know what cocks taste like, but I was sure not all dicks had such an awful taste. But having learnt enough by now that my real desire was seeing Hugh’s fun I forced myself to suck his cock and trying to forget the awful taste, I gulped it down completely and apparently I was sucking it with expertise because I heard the bastard say that I was giving him a perfect blowjob. All that time I was aware that he didn’t deserve any fun; I had always hated rapists and certainly I hated him now. Since that night I also liked that psychological attitude: giving fun to someone who does not deserve it. Nevertheless I wanted to give him a perfect blowjob cause I knew Hugh was watching and enjoying the show, and for him I would do anything. Now I was sure of what it was that I wanted and if that bastard had wanted more fun, whatever the fun was, after he came in my mouth, I knew well I would have given him any fun he wanted. But there came a moment when he finally came in my mouth. The taste of semen was awful, more knowing whose dick it had come from. But I swallowed everything and I saw Hugh cumming again. And that vision made me bust a second load. This orgasm wasn’t as explosive as my first one, but was no doubt better than all the previous orgasms of my life. Then the bastard said.

-We had finished, you beautiful boy. I will do nothing more to you. I’m sure you have enjoyed so when you reach your house, you will be jacking off thinking about me. Now kiss me again and I will leave you.

A new kiss and I still saw Hugh masturbating. But the kiss ended and that bastard left me alone at last. I saw Hugh taking his cock back in his pants and returning to the bench where he had been sitting before. Now I had to join him again and needed an excuse for having taken so long. I would not let him know I had seen him.

-Hi again, Hugh.

-Hello, dad. What took you so long?

-Well, I stumbled upon a branch and suddenly I dropped my car keys and a lot of small change I know was in my trousers. It is a moonless night and I found the money soon but kept on searching for I don’t know how much money I had in my pockets. But I almost could not find the car keys. It took me half an hour to find them. Those damn keys were well hidden below a tree, far from where I was. But finally I’m back. We can continue the road.

He stood up and we kept on walking to Marlene’s house, very close. Surprisingly I had a big boner all the time and surreptitiously I looked at Hugh and he was hard too. It is surprising that affection can turn disgust into calm. His stinking smell did not bother me now and I was thinking all the time that I would gladly be raped three or four more times provided he was present, seeing the rapes and enjoying. I glimpsed at my son, not with desire, but admitting he was really cute and sexy. What he had done tonight, or rather what he had not done had changed my life forever. I had certainly discovered sex that night once I had discovered what a good orgasm was. I was thinking whether I could think of new ways of suffering for his fun. But we had already arrived at Marlene’s.

Her big house was certainly crowded, some other publishers from Thalia, some common friends and one or two wannabe writers I had just met, some of whom could become certainly good writers in the future. Hugh approached Marlene and excused himself, saying he would be just a short while in the party, cause he knew well he stank. He explained to her why he could not have a shower. But she said.

-Please don’t go, Hugh. You know part of my success is due to you. You gave me wonderful ideas for my novel. Without you, what I’m celebrating tonight would never have happened.

I was one day having a beer with my son and suddenly we saw Marlene and she came to us and I introduced them. She sat with us and soon Hugh and she started to talk. They became good friends and saw each other many more days. My son really had brilliant ideas and I had often told him one day he should write, but he laughed and told me he was better at giving ideas, but was not good at writing. But Marlene and he became good friends.

I did not know then when Hugh would like to leave and I was incredibly hard. I could not have such an obvious boner at the party and suddenly I had to find an excuse and go to the toilet. I should jack off.

I started then beating my meat. It was curious I had never enjoyed sex and there I was, leaving the party to masturbate, horny as hell and not shocked after having been raped. But I did not think about my rapist; I thought about Hugh of course, not with incestuous desires, but recalling the fun I’d had seeing him enjoying his father’s rape. I kept on beating off and started to talk to myself.

-Have fun, Hugh. See how a bastard sticks his nauseating dick in your father’s ass. Jerk yourself off and enjoy. I only wish they raped me again so you can see it. It’s strange that I have discovered sex tonight just like this: not actually having any sex, but horny at the sex you were having with yourself and bastardly enjoying your father’s torture, instead of rescuing him. I like you just as you are, Hugh, but I have just discovered you tonight and I like you more. I really love you, my son.

And just then I shot a big load in Marlene’s toilet. I returned then to the party and my son and I spent two more hours there, but finally we left. It was only eleven then. In just a quarter of an hour we were home and Hugh told me he would go straight to bed. He had a big boner but I did not think about it or told him anything. He said he had eaten enough at Marlene’s and didn’t need to eat more now.

I went to my bed too. I had always slept in just my briefs and I had nothing else on now either. First I had to wank again. I was on fire that night. When I finally came I decided to sleep but I have just started to doze off when I woke up startled. I had again a dick in my ass but the pain was double than in my previous rape. The smell told me who was raping me. My son had come into my bedroom, I never locked the door, and had approached and ripped my briefs which were now on the floor, I saw them, and suddenly had thrust his dick in my ass. My own son was raping me and at the same time he was talking, apologetic, telling me he could not help it. I had then a new dose of pain, unbearable pain now, what a massive dick my son had, but I had to talk to him so he knew I was enjoying what he had unexpectedly decided to do, to tell him he was not raping me, he had my consent. If my dominant son wanted more fun from me he would have it, for there I was, experiencing what I had been all night secretly desiring, to suffer more for my son’s fun, my new fun after now.