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Shayan Akbar - Prison Dad
Shayan Akbar - Prison Dad : Chapter 3 - part 1

Chapter 3 - part 1

  2012.10.15. 09:53

Chapter 3


Friday afternoon, five-a-side football in the concrete yard. Barbed wire topped walls rising high on two sides, the prison buildings on the other two.

A week into his time and this was the first breath of fresh air for Jack since arriving, though he would have jumped at the chance of a kickabout wherever it was. Sure, grass and a larger space would have been better, but this was fuckin prison after all. Be grateful for what you get.

Fast and aggressive in possession, he showed off his skills to his new mates, scoring four times. High fives and curses echoed around. He noticed one particular officer watching him intently at various points. So he should, he thought: he was bloody good. Vapour trails crossed high in the summer sky; sweat slid down his shirtless back.

His muscles were certainly aching from the first few workouts with Sike. The big guy was using his 'free' time for weightlifting, or something; not a big football fan it would seem ('bunch of overpaid tossers fakin it like girls when anyone touches em...'), but Jack wasn't gonna argue the point. No need. He liked it mostly cause he was good at it, and that brought him respect.

The showers were very welcome on such a hot day. Only the third he'd had all week and he fucking needed it. Rough jostling bodies and shouts in the steam, the easy ritualised camaraderie of straight blokes.

'...Did ya see the kid move? Shit.'

'Yeah. THE shit.'

'Couldn't fuckin believe it, my foot was right on it. Right on it, I'm tellin yer.'

'Ahh, ya fackin poof - did ya mam teach ya how ta tackle?'

'You can fuckin talk, mate. Left the zimmer behind today, did ya?' Laughter all round. 'Coulda done with some help y'know...'

Jack laughed with everyone else, content with his performance and appreciating the grudging admiration of the opposition. He didn't have to boast - his own team had gloated enough on his behalf already - just the odd cheeky grin. He felt like he was starting to belong. One of the boys.

And yet... The shameful truth always lurking at the back of his mind now: he was suckin the meat. His dad had been horny this morning before breakfast and pumped his face full of it. Just another daily dose of tough love on his knees in the claustrophobic cell. He quickly shook the image away lest he get an untimely hard on, mightily glad that showering with other naked blokes hadn't aroused him at all. (Good reason for that Jack: you're fuckin straight...)

Still, one of the boys, huh? Yeah. He was. Despite his youthful appearance, he knew he had the right swagger, the gobby attitude. Years spent on the streets intimidating people with his mates gave him a certain toughness which was regarded as normal here. No one suspected a fuckin thing.

Sike had introduced him to a few people on the second day ('my boy Jack') and warned him who should be avoided at all costs ('cause there are some nutters who just don't care what I'll do to em if they fuck with you...'). Proof of his status had arrived soon after, as some bonehead had squared up to him in the canteen queue on the third day for seemingly no reason whatsoever. He'd asked something without Jack realising he was being spoken to, and got angry when Jack didn't respond.

'You fuckin deaf?'

'You what, mate?' Jack was genuinely puzzled by the interjection, but his mind was immediately on red alert.

'Don't fuckin mate me, you cunt. I just asked if ya'd always been a gormless twat.' The man cocked his head to one side, a cold expression on his surly face. He was itching to spoil the lad's smooth handsome features: what he couldn't have, no one else deserved to. The satisfaction would be worth any reprimand.

Jack felt the adrenaline surge within at this sudden challenge from nowhere alley. He hated losing face, but quickly assessed that the guy was fairly chunky and likely to get the better of him in a one-on-one fight. He had his new mate Rob with him (a black guy in his mid 20s) so they could possibly both take him, but he wasn't sure cause he didn't know who the bloke was with. The guy looked like some tanked up idiot on a Friday night. Fuckin retard.

Another man standing next ahead in the queue turned at this point to see who his mate was having a go at this time and, seeing who it was, quickly nudged him in the ribs. He spoke urgently and quietly into the man's ear, but loud enough for Jack to hear.

'Naww mate. Bad news. Sike's boy.'

And with those six words the man snarled, visibly disappointed, looking warily around, before turning back to face front again without a further word. Jack, keen to appear nonchalant, turned to Rob, who was staring gobsmacked.

'Dunno what the fuck that was all about...' A lengthy pause.

'So you're the one sharing with Sike then?'

'Yeah, and?' Jack hadn't made a point of drawing attention to it.

'Hadn't realised.'

'Is it important?'

A short stab of laughter. 'Well mate, you're either seriously lucky or, errr, seriously unlucky.'


'Listen, if you're in Sike's good books, you're fuckin sorted. He's da man. No hassle.' Rob leaned forward to speak in a hushed voice, despite the din around. 'Main dealer, y'know. And a fuckin hard-nut.'

Jack nodded as if he didn't know.

'And if I ain't lucky?'

'Don't think about it, mate. You'd know. Life wouldn't be worth livin. Anyway, that...' he gestured at the bonehead in front '...tells me you're lucky.'

Jack had thought over and over this episode in the days since. Clearly the deal he'd struck was just as promised: fate had somehow landed him in this privileged position. Every day, faced with his dad's mighty snake, the deep connection continued to be forged in his otherwise straight mind. You're fuckin sorted, Jack. Just gotta keep takin it like a good boy. Think how fuckin lucky you are...

They were all piling out of the showers now and getting changed back into dirty jeans, t-shirts and the trainers they'd used for the game. Jack was being typically slow and was one of the last to pull his T-shirt over his head as most of the others were escorted out. The remaining officers stood watching.

'Ain't got all day, y'know. Come on, shift it.'

Jack picked up his shorts from where they'd fallen on the floor and found himself face to face with a prison officer, the same one who'd been watching him so intently in the game. A burly bloke, probably in his mid 40s, tight dark gelled hair with flecks of grey, mean squashed looking face, neck as wide as his head. Typical doorman type... All brawn, no brains, no doubt.

'But I want a word with you.'


'That'll be yes sir, to you, Kenton.'

Jack looked at him with barely masked disdain. Stupid cunt. What the fuck did he want?

The officer waited until the last of the other prisoners had left, escorted by his colleague who gave a friendly mock salute as he closed the door. They were alone now in the steamy damp changing room. He turned back to the lad. Handsome little fucker. Would look better squirming on the end of his prick, though.

'Quite the little striker, ain'tcha Kenton?'

'Had some practice... Sir. Quick on my feet, y'know.'

'You should definitely be in the prison league. I'll see to it if you like.'

'Thanks sir.'

'Now I've been hearing some er... interesting rumours about you Kenton.'

Now where was this going? A bad feeling arose in his gut, but he endeavoured to keep his expression completely neutral.

'Such as?'

'You tell me.'

Jack's mind raced. Fuck. What did the man know? More importantly, how did he know it?

'I'm not sure what you mean, sir.'

The officer paused. The lad had taken too long to answer... He could almost smell the fear. Hehe. This was fuckin good sport; one of the unwritten perks of the job. He knew he didn't really have the time to do everything he wanted to here and now, but hey, just a bit of fun ahead of some real action. He brought his face close to the lad's.

'I'm sure you know what I fuckin mean. You do realise it's an offence to lie to a prison officer don't you Kenton?'

'Er... Yes sir.'

'Good. So tell me. What's the deal with Sike?'


'Why's he protecting you?'

'I... I still don't know what you're getting at, sir.' The lad was staring close range into the man's steely grey eyes, willing himself to sound innocent.

'You fuckin liar, Kenton.' Without warning, the officer viciously punched Jack in the stomach. Jack staggered backwards, bending over in pain. The officer watched him impassively for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing the lad's short hair to tilt his head upwards. He forced him to his knees, and pushed his crotch into the young man's pain-contorted face.

'Bet you'd like a bit of this, huh? Fuckin gayboy.'

Jack felt the heat and the firm bulge pressing on his face and his mind reeled with the sheer insanity of it. No way was this chunky fucker a homo. No fuckin way. He resisted a sudden urge to bite through the fabric and managed to jerk his head temporarily free of the man's sweaty grip. He looked up at the uniformed figure, drawing ragged breaths.

'No fuckin way sir. I ain't fuckin gay... That ain't my scene.'

The officer sneered at him. 'Oh I think it fuckin is lad. I've seen your dirty little mouth at work.'

Jack's heart sank. Oh no. The fucker knew. The shame and guilt washed through him with sickening speed. He desperately tried to salvage some pride.

'He fuckin made me do it. Threatened me with all sorts a shit if I didn't.'

'Didn't look like that from where I was standing.'

They both glared at each other in deathly silence. The dull stink of accumulated sweat hung in the air. Jack was suddenly very aware of the sound of his own breathing, felt sure the angry pulse of blood through his veins could be heard by his tormentor. He swallowed hard, willing himself not to say or do anything stupid.

'A word of advice: never, never, NEVER lie to an officer again, Kenton, or you'll come to regret it. That clear?'

A slow nod.

'Stand up.'

Jack did so, the grimace on his face clear to see as his stomach muscles tried to contract.

'Think we might continue this little discussion another day, hmmmm?'

A sullen pause. 'Yes sir.'

'Out.' The officer gestured to the door and trooped after the lad. His hard tool was eager for action, but he knew better than to risk it here and now. The other lot would be here any minute.

When Jack got back to the cell, Sike wasn't there. He sat carefully down on his bed and rubbed his aching stomach, angrily wiping away a few sudden, sharp tears. It wasn't the punch as much as the shame of being found out. It had all been going pretty fuckin well, in a weird alternative reality kinda way... The protection deal with his prison dad. Making some new mates. The pool and the footie. He was almost - almost - starting not to miss his outside life and the tedious struggle of trying to live above his means. But now this...

He put his head in his hands and stared at the floor between his feet. What was he gonna fuckin do now? How would his dad react if he thought anyone knew about him gettin serviced by his young cellmate? It'd ruin everything. He'd blame Jack for letting the cat out of the bag, for sure. Bad times. The fastest route to seriously unlucky... On the other hand, maybe the bent screw was bluffing when he'd said 'rumours' and hadn't actually spoken to anyone else yet. Jack fervently hoped that was true.

After contemplating it a minute, he decided the best thing was to say nothing at all to his dad, just sort it out himself. Give the stupid fucker whatever it was he was after... A weird feeling in his stomach at the prospect, quickly pushed aside... And hope that it went no further. Yeah, that was the only sensible course of action. He took off his T-shirt and trainers - still too fuckin hot - and lay down, fumbling inside the zip of his jeans for some easy distraction. Immediately, he began to replay a fantasy which had already fired him up several times these past few days...

He's standing naked in a hotel bedroom, stroking his meat, watching his dad fuck a sexy young blonde on a double bed. Smooth pale skin, pert tits, legs spread wide... Her youthful perfection is in stark contrast to the muscular beast of the tattooed man shafting her. She's moaning in ecstasy as his massive rod slides in and out of her pussy. Biceps bulging, his fuzzed, muscular upper body is held horizontal in a press-up position over her as his relentless groin goes to work. 'You're one fuckin sexy bitch, intcha? You love my motherfuckin dick.' Her moans rise in pitch as the intensity increases... So horny watching the big guy doing what comes naturally to him... He's the fuckin man. Then his dad turns to look at him. 'You want some of this, son?' and Jack imagines himself nodding mesmerized as he squeezes his aching member. 'Yeah dad, just let me try it... Looks so fuckin horny.' His dad stares at him aggressively, but it's OK cause he knows his son isn't gay; knows Jack just has to submit to his authority. 'Well if you want it, then you're gonna fuckin get it.' And he pulls out of the woman, who moves off the bed to let Jack take her place. Jack does. He can hardly believe what is about to happen... Fuck yeahhhh. His dick is like a rock now. He spreads his legs up and out, exposing his virgin hole, feels his dad's cunt-moistened weapon pressing insistently there (the first time he imagined this, he shot his load right there and then...) 'Think you can take it son? Take yer dad's motherfuckin dick?' The chunky frame looms over him, raw power, rough hands pinning his body to the bed. 'Yeah, come on dad, give it to me.' Fuck yeahhhh. 'Oh, I'm gonna fuckin give it to yer alright.' And in it slowly slides, the thick slick manhood forcing itself into him for the first time. So wrong and so right. Jack feels it remorselessly filling him as his dad grunts in deep satisfaction. Hairy groin now moving back and forth, stomach muscles flexin, mechanical but sensuous... Getting fucked like that sexy bird by his straight tough-nut dad. Getting. Fucked. So. Very. Hard. 'Yeah, it's you and me now, son. You and me. I'm fuckin doin yer...'

Suddenly a noise broke into the young lad's horny reverie. He pushed his raging dick firmly back inside his jeans in a hurry. Shit. But now the door was being unlocked and the object of his dark fantasy was back. Perhaps he'd be getting another mouthful tonight, thought the lad, mind still swimming with lust. His dick throbbed, denied release. He pretended to be dozing, facing the wall.

Sike was in a good mood. His session had gone well, the old knee injury behaving itself and everything pumped out to the max. He needed the lad to knead his shoulders and upper back again, but it could wait til later. He cast his eyes in the boy's direction: fuck could he sleep! Seemed to spend half the day in bed, the lazy fucker. Still, there was plenty of time to kill... Plenty of time. He threw off his shirt and wiped himself down with a towel, still sweating despite the shower. It was too fuckin hot.

Towelling done, he drunk a pint or so straight from the tap, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when done. He stood awhile next to the sink eyeing his lad. The smoothness of his skin, lightly reddened from an hour in the sun; the lean, muscular definition on his short frame, their work-outs beginning to show results already; the youthful vulnerability of him. He idly played with his thick tool through the shiny fabric of his shorts, gently squeezing the sensitive head. He'd been vulnerable once, and where had his fuckwit of a dad been? Down the pub most of the time, getting smashed. Some role model. He'd tried to be a good dad himself. Really tried. If only that bitch had played ball with his activities. Anger welled up in him and he felt the urge to smash something.

He flung himself on to his bed and pulled out a porn mag from the pile underneath, reaching down to his shorts once more. He stroked his swelling meat through the thin fabric and let the familiar images set off habitual fantasies. Yeahhh. Fuckin some tight pussy again. He couldn't wait.

Jack listened for a while to the man's heavy breathing, the stifling heat seeming to feed his inertia. He could sense what was happening and his dick throbbed painfully in his jeans. When he could stand the tension no more, he rolled on to his back and faked a yawn, stretching his arms out above him. Sike looked up with a sly grin. Good timing, kid.

'Rise and fuckin shine, son. There's work for you over here.'

Jack raised himself up on his elbows to look at the shaven-headed tough guy waiting for him. His mouth hung stupidly open. Once more, the undercurrent of danger sent his mind spinning; fear and awe slowing time to a crawl. You really want him to do you, Jack? You must be out of your fuckin mind... A jolt of queasy excitement shot through the youth as the aftershock of his hastily abandoned wank-fantasy imprinted itself on to the raw terrifying reality.

'Come on kiddo, don't keep yer dad waitin. Got another fuckin load for yer.'

His dad was grinning evilly, magazine in one hand propped up on one raised chunky thigh, right hand lazily caressing the long shape outlined in his exercise shorts. Duty called. Second time today. It's goin in your mouth again, Jack. He was in no position to resist... He got up, a twinge of discomfort from where he'd been punched in the gut, crossed over the cell and knelt down by the bed, placing one arm on his dad's hairy outstretched leg and leaning forward to moisten the fabric over and around the man's big prick. The size of it thrilled him anew and he softly chewed at it through the fabric. Dog with a bone.

Think how fuckin lucky you are, Jack... You're fuckin sorted, remember?

Diverting his attention from the porn for a moment, Sike lightly stroked the boy's hair. Jack paused what he was doing and looked up at his dad. The sight of his son's cute young face hovering over his arousal filled the horny straight thug with mixed feelings: the undeniable urge to look after him like a dad should, and the bad desire of wanting to dominate his boy, to make him moan like a bitch on heat. Because he could. Because it was the best thing he was gonna get. Because, in this place, might made right.

The man rolled up the fabric of his shorts a little and pushed his dick down so that the upper part of it poked out. 'OK, get lickin, son,' he ordered.

Jack had no desire to disobey. The firm expanse of those fuzzy pecs and the bulging tattooed arms made him feel puny in comparison. He nodded in his submissive trance. 'Anything you say, dad.'

Keen young tongue made contact with smooth shiny head and the horny ritual of service resumed. He licked all around, lapping up the sticky juice oozing out from the dark opening, a taste now familiar but no less strange. Pushing the shorts back further to expose more of its impressive length, he took the man's mature veiny meat into his mouth, leg hairs tickling his chin. This was real life alright: sucking on his dad's fat, juicy dick. Every day. He reached in with his spare hand and caressed the man's sweaty nutsack.

The man continued to gently stroke the lad's head as the warm, pleasurable sensations spread out from his crotch. Anything you say? Hmmm...

'Good boy. You fuckin do what yer dad tells yer, don'tcha?' Another eager nod from below. 'That's right.'

He looked back to the porn mag and the picture of a young dark haired Italian looking girl being taken by two muscle guys, front and back, complete with close-ups of her double penetration. Her vacant smile to camera looked forced, but that turned him on even more. A fuckin horny shot, no mistake. He'd happily be one of them blokes givin it to her... Nice work if you could get it. He stared through a lustful haze at her complete violation. His meat was feeling real nice now, his son working it up a treat. He looked at the lad again, who had taken hold of the stiff weapon he was servicing in order to rhythmically slide up and down it with his soft lips, gradually picking up speed, using his tight hand to increase the sensation. Yeahhhh, this was just perfect... Sexy straight lad being made to suck his dad's meat. He imagined how humiliated the boy must feel deep down at having to do this... Yeahhhh. Doin what his dad tells him... His dad was gonna take him all the way soon: that was gonna be an adventure for both of em.

'Yeahhh, feels reeeal nice. You're fuckin good at that son. Fuckin good. You keep lookin after that every day and yer dad'll look after you. We're the perfect team, huh? You and me...'

He was thrusting in time with the lad's movements now, feeling his climax getting closer. Ever closer. Easy does it, Sike... He glanced again at the porn and the two big dicks penetrating the young woman, one up her cunt, the other up her rear. Thought about her takin it from him. Dirty fuckin bitch. His tool'd loosen her up a treat.

Jack moaned, beyond any rational thought, the deep voice spurring him on. If someone had told him last week that prison would mean being forced to slurp the cum out of some scary fucker old enough to be his dad, he'd have seriously considered topping himself. But here he was doin it. Really fuckin doin it. Crazy shit. The hot rigid meat slid beneath his slick hand, lips pushed wide by the fearsomely proportioned weapon. Almost ready to fire again. Jaw ache.

'Fuck yeahhhh. Suck that motherfucker, son. You know what's comin. Better get that straight gob of yours ready cause yer dad's gonna feed it yer any minute... And you better fuckin drink it all up this time or there'll be trouble.'

Jack looked up at him quickly and nodded. His face had been rammed hard for what seemed like ages yesterday afternoon. The erotic tension of the preceding work-out had just built and built, and by the time the reward for his hard work was getting shoved into his mouth he'd very quickly exploded into his cum stained boxers. But his dad had gone on and on, and at the end Jack's tiring lips had let some of the salty sweet seed slip out and dribble down his chin. The man had chided him, caught the juice with his chunky knuckles and made him lick it off his clenched fist

The threat of 'trouble' was a timely reminder that this was no game, that the deal they had was an ongoing arrangement, not a given. The menacing narrow eyed stare set his heart racing, his natural straight instincts totally crushed by the hefty masculine domination of his dad. He'd damn well do what he was told. He focussed his full concentration again on the task in hand, his own aching member having to wait whilst he worked.

Sike looked at him with angry lustful satisfaction. Look at him. Gob stuffed full of his old man's throbbing meat. Doing what he was told. He wanted to give the lad a hint of what was to come without stating it outright. Play with his mind a bit...

'Tell you what, son, you think this is good... You just wait. Think you might be gettin some real rough fuckin action from me soon. Know what I'm sayin? You know you fuckin want it.'

The lad moaned again as the aggressive words slid into his skull. Real rough fuckin action... Did he mean it? The possibility sent shivers down his spine. The real fuckin deal. He was mad horny for it now, imagining the massive rod now filling his mouth being pressed up against his tight exposed hole, just like in his twisted wank-fantasy. You know you fuckin want it... Yeah dad, just wanna try it... Fuck yeah. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. He felt the rough hand beginning to force his head down on to the slick, glistening meat, the man grunting like an animal, thrusts becoming more assertive. He knew what was coming now... Shoot it, dad. Shoot yer fuckin load.

'Ughhh. Ughhhh. Yeahhhh. Keep suckin. It's comin, son. It's fuckin comin.' The man was lost between the two images: the sexy young girl on the sofa getting double fucked and the cute, smooth straight boy being forced to service his horny dad. The two fed off each other in his mind, both rooted in his fierce desire to dominate. He was the fucking man; mighty weapon unstoppable. He felt his nuts tighten and vision blur.


Ecstasy overload. The cum began to shoot violently into his son's tight warm mouth. Jack watched in numb disbelief as the pulsing manhood began to feed him once more. He'd scored again. Fresh spunk goin down his throat. Life out of control.


The following night, after free time out to watch some telly with a few mates, Jack found himself back with his dad in the cell, playing cards and drinking, both stripped to the waist as usual. The air was hot and heavy. It was only the third time his dad had given him some booze, and as he hadn't fed his meat to the lad yet today there was plenty of tension in the air. This was the first day since the lad arrived that nothing had happened by the evening.

Jack was boned up and expectant and kept glancing down the trail of fuzz to the crotch of those scruffy jeans. Couldn't properly explain his addiction to servicing his hard-nut dad's dick, he just enjoyed being made to do it... He'd decided that most young straight lads like him must secretly want to be dominated by a muscly dad, but never got to try it. It was the only explanation that made any fucking sense. He really was fucking lucky. Just imagine if Sike was yer real dad, Jack... How amazin would that be?

The day had been OK. He'd managed to avoid looking at the officer who had confronted him after the match the day before, even if a sixth sense told him he was being watched from time to time. The work-out earlier had been good, though the heatwave showed no signs of letting up and they both sweated plenty. It didn't end the way the previous one had, much to Jack's disappointment, but then they had been cut short by an officer (not the one Jack was avoiding) coming into the cell to have a word with Sike. Jack stretched his sore muscles out, listening to their low voices discussing numbers in short functional sentences. The barest minimum that needed to be said. Something was handed over.

Sike put whatever it was under his bed behind the magazines. He'd quickly finished off the stuff with Jack and said he had 'something he needed to do'. He rummaged around and pulled out a tiny mobile phone - first Jack had seen of it - and started texting someone. Jack was intrigued but knew better than to ask questions. 'The less you know the better', he'd been told. and after the run-in with the officer he was starting to see the wisdom of that.

Leisure time over for the evening, here they were again in the small cell, playing cards. Jack was in the chair this time, his dad on the edge of his bed. They'd been playing for some time.

'Want some more son?' The man picked up the bottle from the floor near his feet. He wanted to make sure the lad was nice n relaxed...

'Yeah, dad. Fill me up.'

'That's my boy.'

Jack handed over his cup and watched the chunky fella pour in another large measure. It was strong stuff. Still, at least it wasn't affecting his ability to win this time. He wet his dry mouth, swallowed, once more felt the insane rush to his head. Whew, yeah. Definitely a bit tipsy now... The man could definitely drink more than him, he thought. Except for fuckin cum... Ha! Funny. He sniggered out loud.

'Whatcha laughin at?'

'Oh nothin in particular.'

His dad wasn't having that. 'No, you fuckin tell me.' His expression was completely serious. Jack looked at him, slightly unsteadily, the buzz of alcohol making him much less cautious.

'Just thinkin about how you can beat me at just about everything.'

'You're doin alright tonight, son. Fairly even so far.'

Jack nodded in acknowledgment. 'Yeah well, maybe not that... But you can fuckin drink me under the table.'

The man laughed. 'Yeah. You're a bit of a fuckin lightweight, intcha?' A mocking grin.

'No point fuckin arm wrestlin yer either...'

'Yer think?' The man had his head cocked on one side now, grin larger.

A thoughtful pause. Ahh, fuck it. He was on a roll now. 'Bet you've screwed far more birds too.'

'Haha. Bit of a head start, eh? Helps.' The grin was replaced by a more predatory stare. What ya tryin to say son?

'And yer fuckin dick's bigger 'an mine too.'

Jack eyed the intimidating figure opposite, the fuzzy firm pecs, the unambiguous strength in his tattooed arms, the thick scar on his neck, the glint in his dark eyes. His young horny mind was taking him places he'd never imagined going before getting banged up... It's OK, Jack. Any straight lad in your position would willingly submit. Just a power thing, innit. Prison rules... Real men have to fuck, and your dad's a real fuckin man. You know you can't fight him... His dick pushed against the inside of his jeans. He'd seen the man go commando after the work-out and decided to copy.

The man looked at him with horny approval, barest hint of a wry grin. He knew what the lad was really tryin to say... Come on dad, when's it gonna happen? This was comin along just nicely... He rubbed his stubbled chin.

'Sounds like you got the horn, son.'


Man and boy looked at each other, inevitable lust hanging between; the world reduced to them alone. The man drained his cup and put down both it and his cards.

'Come over ere.' He patted the bed beside him. Jack knocked back the rest of his vodka and shook his head as it went down. A sharp exhale. Whew. Cup down. Cards down. He went over as instructed, nervous excitement slithering rapidly through his veins.

The man reached down for a porn mag. He sat further back on the bed with his back to the wall; Jack leaned back next to him.

'Let's just take a look at some of these, huh?'

'Sure thing, dad. They're fuckin hot.' It was the same magazine his dad had handed him that first night. 'Show me that one of the blonde one suckin will yer...'

It was located quickly enough, the pretty young face being violated by the veiny monster. Jack felt a surge below. Big dicks like that deserved to be sucked.

'Yeah, that's still fuckin hot, dad.' The lad idly rubbed himself, visualising his dad's hard veiny weapon there in front of him.

'Yeah, she's lovin that... Thinkin about what's comin next, I bet.' The man was leading the lad on, step by step.

'Bet she is.'

'You wanna see what happens next?'

'Fuck yeah.'

The flick of a page. It was the same blonde straddling a muscled guy on a leather sofa, that big dick now plunged deep in her pussy. He was fairly tanned compared to her, which only seemed to emphasise the size difference.

'Yer like that one, son?' The man was now adjusting himself through his jeans. He was gonna unzip any minute and get things movin.

Jack's mouth was hanging open and he was absent-mindedly breathing through it in horny anticipation. He saw what the big guy was doing and found it hard to concentrate on the image, horny as it undoubtedly was. His mind was filled with the thought of his well-hard dad's meaty snake.

'Oh yeah, that's the fuckin business. She's really lovin that...'

His dad flicked through once more to another picture he particularly wanted his son to see. The same blonde, this time on a double bed, legs spread wide, about to get rammed by some older muscle dude with tattoos down his arms. His meaty missile was poised ready, taking aim.

'Looks a bit like me, don't he?'

Jack was temporarily speechless. The similarity to his wank fantasy was incredible... The man, the woman, the position, everything. He could completely picture that bloke being his dad and him standing there stroking his meat in admiration watching him fuck that sexy bird. And then his dad turning to him... Woahhh. Fuckin freaky. And here was his dad showing it to him. He felt strangely lightheaded. That vodka had seriously done the trick. Nothing felt real now.

'Yeahhhh. Fuckin hell. That's a good un. Any more like that?'

His dad turned the page to where there were subsequent shots of the fuck in progress. The man leaning over her with his tool in deep, her head arched back in delight, tits thrust out. Too good. Too fuckin good. He wanted it.

'You like that, son?'

'Fuck yeahhh.' A pause. Dry, dry mouth. Get the fuckin words out, Jack... You know you want to... 'Bet that massive dick of his feels fuckin good.'

The man paused too. That's the right idea, son. Nearly fuckin there now. His substantial manhood swelled in readiness.

'Yeah. Just like yer dad's would, huh?

The lad became very aware of his breathing and the violent thud of his heart. Another dry swallow. It was really gonna fuckin happen. He stared at the horny image on the page, his reply a husky whisper.


'You want some of that then?' Jack could tell his dad was looking directly at him now. He thought about his fantasy again. Was this really happening? He turned to the shaven-headed man, fierce stubbled face at close range. Before he could stop himself, the script slipped out as if he was on autopilot.

'Yeah dad... Just wanna try it.' The tough guy nodded almost imperceptibly. 'Looks so fuckin horny.'

Fuck. He'd actually said it. No goin back. He looked again at the porn image: the long snaking dick lodged between the girl's spread legs; the muscular figure looming over her; complete domination. Fuck. He was gonna get shafted like that hot bitch. His straight tough-nut dad was gonna do him. This was gonna FUCKIN HURT... It was gonna be FUCKIN EXTREME.

'Oh it'll be fuckin horny, son... I can promise you that. You're gonna get the fuck of your life.' Jack knew the man meant every word.

He put the porn mag to one side and began to unzip his dirty jeans. The lad watched in drunken breathless anticipation as the obscene fleshy cylinder was sprung free. The fucking beast looked bigger than ever. He licked his dry lips. His dad watched him, enjoying every single moment of his boy's submission to the inevitable sweet torture to follow.

'Think you can take all that son? Think you can take yer dad's dick?'

Jack nodded furiously. He was gonna make his dad proud of him, at any cost. 'Fuck yeah.'

The man stroked his stubbled chin again as if doubting the lad's commitment. 'Hmmm. We'll fuckin see, shall we...' He was challenging him for kicks now, even though the matter was now settled in his mind. It was gonna fuckin happen. Even if the lad backed down and he had to pin him to the bed and stuff his gob with something to keep him quiet, it was gonna fuckin happen.

'I can fuckin take it dad. I'm ain't no fuckin lightweight.' Sheer bravado. Jack really had no idea whether he could or not. But the words were out and he wasn't gonna back down now. The grim unstoppable logic of his wank-fantasy turning to reality.

'Uh-huh?' One last questioning grunt to test the lad's resolve.

Jack's mind was in turmoil as the hour of reckoning approached. His straight instincts were pounding away in his skull that this was wrong wrong wrong, but another louder voice was saying that this was all just part of the deal, that he had to respect his tough dad's authority...

Real hard men with big dicks needed to fuck, dint they? Only right and proper. And his dad was a real fuckin hard man with a fuckin big dick. Fuckin big. Why stop just cause he was in prison? Still needed to fuck. Young straight lads like him had to learn to take it... In the gob. In the fuckin hole. No fuckin choice in the matter... Yeahhhh. The lack of control enflamed his twisted lust further. Still feelin lucky, Jack?

'Yeah dad. Fuckin do me...'

The air in the cell was heavy and stifling. His dad was staring at him in silence, lightly fingering the head of his engorged meat. Ripples of anticipation. His dark serious eyes bore into Jack's.

'Well, don't you worry, son, you're gonna fuckin get it. Yer dad's gonna fuckin work yer.' Another shiver down Jack's spine. 'Better make it nice and wet first, huh?'

Jack went straight down without hesitation. The chunky manhood entered his mouth and he knew the terrifying journey had begun. The man watched the lad set to work and massaged the back of his smooth neck and shoulders, before working slowly up and down the lad's back with his rough hand. He admired the contrast between them: strong hairy forearm, slightly darker when set against the smooth, sun reddened pale skin of his son's back. His property. Haha. Fucked up shit, this, but fuckin good all the same.

'Yeah, that's the way son. That's the fuckin way. This is gonna be so fuckin good, I'm tellin yer. Gonna take you somewhere you never been. Fuck yeahhhh.' Somewhere he'd never been either, he thought, but it'd been in his head for years now. Fucked a few birds up the chute in his time, so it couldn't be that different. Tighter n better, if anything. He knew what he was doin well enough.

The lad felt his dad's rough hand feeling him up. A rush of fierce emotion swept though him. The man had only really touched him before when they were working out, and it had turned him on so much to get that close attention and to be able to feel the man's firm muscles under the guise of a legit father-son discussion about correct technique. He'd wanted to chew on the man's bulging biceps and the inviting roundness of his fuzzy pecs, had even wanted to lick the sweat off him. Get his dad inside him. Become him. A raging unspoken desire to be accepted by the older man.

But so far, other than that, it had just been an unforgiving hand holding his head in place. Which was fuckin good too, of course... Being forced to submit to that powerful tool slamming into his ready gob. As if on cue, he felt the man's other hand pushing him down on it; it was like the scary fucker cold read his mind. His dick surged painfully in his jeans.

'Every fuckin inch, son. Daddy's big juicy dick tastes good, don't it?' A low moan from below. 'Imagine how fuckin good it's gonna feel inside yer, huh? That big straight dick slidin in yer tight hole...'

Jack was in a frenzy now, deepthroating his dad's meat and getting fired up by the sexy aggressive talk. This was the most intense thing he'd ever experienced in his whole short life.

From down the corridor outside, barked shouts.

'Five minutes, lights out.'

Jack stopped. Fuck. He lifted his head up to look at his dad.

'On yer chair.' Jack did as he was told, cursing inwardly as Sike zipped his stiff meat away. They couldn't fuckin stop now... 'Pick up yer fuckin cards. We're still playin.'

Jack picked up the abandoned hand and swore under his breath. Sighed loudly. Sike quickly hid the vodka away and picked up his cards too. He fixed the lad with a serious stare and winked at him.

A few moments later, a voice at the door grill. 'Oi, you two. Time to pack up.'

Jack thought he recognized the voice. He grimaced at the reminder.

Sike looked over to the door and gave a lazy salute. The sound of footsteps moving away. He leaned forward to the boy to speak in a low voice.

'They'll be wanderin up and down for fifteen minutes or so, that's all. Then they'll fuck off for a couple of hours at least. Same every night. Just wait til I tell yer.'

Jack moped over to his bed, frustrated. His dad moved the small table back to the wall, shoved the porn mag under the bed and rummaged around for some other things before sitting down on the corner of his bed nearest Jack and very deliberately removing his jeans while keeping his eyes fixed on the boy. His still hard meat jutted out proudly.

'Get yer fuckin kit off.'

The lad did as he was told. No hiding his boner. He felt embarrassed being completely naked in front of his dad like this; his inexplicable desire condemning him to his fate. His dad eyed him hungrily. The lad's stiff dick was of no interest to him, except in that it showed his son was gagging for some action. Typical teenager, always horny. He grabbed his meat, knuckles tight, and growled at the boy like an animal, face screwed up, teeth bared. It was just for a moment, but it filled Jack with insane lust.

'Like I said. Wait til I tell yer.' The man moved back to lie horizontal, uncovered. The lad did the same on his bed, heart still thumping. Patience.


Gradually, Jack's eyes became accustomed to the gloom. The small, high window actually let in a fair amount of light. There were bright yardlights somewhere outside which threw a dim glow into the room. Slow footsteps went past in the corridor. He turned to face the wall. The longest fifteen minutes of his life. He toyed with himself, imagining over and over again the press of his dad's thick meat... How was it gonna fuckin fit? He shivered with anticipation in the sultry night.

Sike lay with hands clasped behind his head on the pillow. He'd known they'd have to wait until lights out, he'd just lost track of time slightly. Other than that, it was all going very much according to plan. He grinned in the dark, counted and listened. Silence dropped over them both. Finally, the sound of the door at the end of the corridor, then nothing.

Jack heard movement from across the cell and sensed the glow in the room becoming less dim.

'Oi. Son. Over ere. Now.' The hissed instruction made him sit up immediately. His dad had put on some form of small light on the table, red T-shirt tossed over it to curb it's brightness. He was standing by his bed, the dim red light on his broad frame creating shadows which accentuated the curves of his muscles. His semi-aroused snake was only partially visible, the rest lurking in the darkness between the chunky legs. The strange dream-like quality of the light heightened the lad's horny intoxicated state. His dad looked more like a fighting machine than ever. Like a fucking demon.

He got up and went over to stand in front of the man. Harder. Taller. Older. Stronger. He wanted to chew the man's pecs even more now, but still daren't. He'd do exactly what he was told. The man stretched his arms above his head and bent his knuckles back until they cracked. Dropped them again. He spoke quietly and forcefully.

'Right. Let's start again, shall we? But this time we ain't fuckin stoppin. Down yer go, kiddo.'

Jack sank to his knees, his eyes tracing past those masculine pecs, and following the tapering fuzz of the wide chest down past the firm hairy stomach. His dad's semi-hard sex emerged into the red glow from shadow, foreskin partially covering the emerging head, hefty nutsack dangling behind. What an amazin fuckin sight that was... Proper fuckin tackle. Surely any straight lad given the chance would want to have a go suckin on their dad's king-size meat? Yeah, of course they would, Jack... Something deep within his mind tried vainly to resist, but the urge to succumb was much, much stronger. This was the night his dad was gonna fuck him. No goin back now. This was fate.

He reached forward with his tongue and made contact, forbidden male territory his to explore all over again. Eager lips enclosed the fat veiny beast. Fuck yeah. You're really doin it, Jack... He reached up with a hand to softly caress the man's nuts, knowing how much his dad liked that. Back and forth his young mouth worked in the dim red glow, massaging and lubricating the monster to complete readiness, feeling and watching it expand and stiffen. Nothing else mattered now. Nine thick inches of his dad to pleasure. This was gonna be so good... His own meat ached, untouched.

The man watched the lad get his fucktool ready with fierce fatherly pride, his son's cute face doing its necessary duty well, soft young lips tryin their best to please. Yeahhhhh. Straight lad and his dad just doin what came naturally. Felt so fuckin good.

'Yeah, that's the fuckin way, son. Gettin yer old man nice n hard now, ain'tcha? How fuckin tasty is that?' Jack moaned softly and sucked even more vigorously for a few moments longer. 'Think we're just about there, huh?' Jack nodded in a daze. The man pulled away.

'Right, let's fuckin do it. On yer back...' Sike liked the idea of simply bending the boy over and taking him stood up, but on this first occasion he really wanted to see the ecstasy and agony on his son's cute face.

'Sure thing dad.' Jack was in a horny trance: his dark and twisted wank-fantasy entwined with reality. He got up and lay down on his dad's bed, head on pillow, legs apart to expose his defenceless hole. He daren't touch his stiff member.

The man reached down for something - the bottle of massage oil - and poured some into one cupped palm. He placed himself in position on the bed, chunky thighs pinioning the lad's pert behind. Jack put his spread legs so that his heels were almost behind his dad's lower back. He looked up in wonder at his muscled father figure: this was just how he'd imagined it. This was fuckin perfect.

'Let's get you fuckin ready, son.'

Jack felt the man spreading oil on his hole, and a couple of rough fingers rubbing all around it. Oh fuck. No one had ever touched him there before... Felt so fuckin weird. Dirty. Then a lubed up index finger began to penetrate, pushing insistently at the ring of muscle which had to admit the intruder. The lad stared, open mouthed, unable to process the sensation. The finger went deeper.

'Fuck... Oh fuck...' Please dad, take it easy...

'Yeahhh. You like that, do yer kiddo?' Sike applied more oil, working him with two fingers now. Probing. Teasing. Looking lustfully at his son's tender tight hole.

'Nnnnghhh.' Jack stared at him in desperation. Scared. Buzzed up. On heat. No goin back now... He looked down to see the chunky tattooed forearm at work.

'This is what real dads do, son... Show their lads how it's fuckin done. I'm gonna fuckin show you alright... Gonna get the fuck of your life.'

The man's sexy words surrounded Jack, sending his mind into horny overdrive. Yeahhh, young straight lads like him had to be shown. Taught a lesson. He was close to hyperventilating now, his voice a husky whisper.

'Come on dad, give it to me...'

The man fixed him with an intense stare, his voice deadly serious. 'Oh don't you worry, son, I will. You're gonna fuckin get it.'

Jack felt the aggression fire him up even further. His dick twitched, eager to be touched. 'Yeahhh...'

His dad removed his fingers and began smearing the remaining oil over his engorged meat, enjoying how good it felt in his slick hand. It was gonna feel even better in a minute... Jack watched the fearsome weapon being prepped in the dim red glow. Look at the fuckin size of it. Fear and desire impossibly intertwined in his nervous body. This couldn't really be happening, could it? He touched his own meat briefly, a jolt of pleasure and guilt. He mustn't show his dad how badly he wanted this. Heart beating fast and furious, he took his hand away.

The man looked at his son. The lean, defined picture of youth. Smooth and vulnerable. Nervous excitement in his cute face. Yeah, he was gonna fuckin give it to him... You're a bad dad, Sike. He carefully inched forward a fraction to place his mighty fuck snake in position, making sure it was in exactly the right place. The shiny head pressed against the lad's tender hole, invasion imminent. Jack felt it there and bit his lip. Shadowed contours of hairy muscle towered over him. Still feelin lucky, Jack?

'Here we fuckin go, son.'

Looking carefully at where his dick was going initially, Sike pressed foward real slow. Yeahhhh. Fuck time. There was only the slightest resistance then the shiny head squeezed in. Jack felt the pressure and then the shock of it opening him up. He gasped, wide-eyed. The man growled at his boy, eyes narrowed. He was fuckin in there. Finally. It was so fuckin tight. YEAHHHHHHHH. He eased forward slowly, grim determination on his face, mightily turned on by the act, the sensation, the lad's tense expression...

'Oh you're so fuckin tight son. This is gonna be reeeeal good...'

The lad watched awestruck as the man took complete control of him, inching in with terrifying inevitability. You're gettin fucked, Jack. This is what it's all about. Fucked by yer tough-nut prison dad. Fuck yeahhh. Fantasy into reality... That massive straight dick being forced up yer tight hole. Really gettin it. Oh yeah. Incredible. Hurts. Hurts. So. Good...

'Fuckin. Hell. Dad. Nnnnghhhhhh...'

It was really fuckin happenin. Really. Fuckin. Happenin. Fuckin brutal.

'Feels fuckin nice, don't it?' The man watched his son struggle to cope beneath him with horny satisfaction. So he fuckin should. It was all about the conquest for him; demonstrating his superiority to the lad. He nudged his meat deeper still.

'Nnnnghhhh. Yeah.'

'You fuckin wanted it son.'

Jack's head swam. He still did, even though the sinking realisation was dawning that he may have just made the biggest mistake of his life in admitting it. This was never gonna work... He was just too tight... His dad's big dick was gonna rip him apart.

'Fuckin. Still. Do.'

He gazed at the muscular body overpowering him, the powerful sweep of fuzzy torso down to where that hot meat was being driven remorselessly in. It all looked so fuckin horny and he wanted his dad inside him so bad. The man leaned forward and placed rough hands on the boy's smooth defined chest, pinning him down firmly. He began to make slow sensuous thrusts, working his tool ever deeper.

'This is just the fuckin start, kiddo. When I've done birds they usually end up fuckin beggin me for mercy... Know what I'm sayin? You gonna show yer dad you can take it?'

Jack nodded. 'Nghh... Yeahhh.' The pain and pleasure of his submission was extreme. Inhibition and reason slipping away, he reached up to grip the bulging biceps of a tattooed arm. His well-hard dad. The contrast of his smooth defined muscle against the hairy tattooed hulk set his desire blazing faster. It was really fuckin happenin. You're gettin shafted, Jack, just like that bird... Fuckin gettin what you wanted... Now fuckin relax and take it... Confused and horny, he spread his legs that little bit wider and gritted his teeth.

His dad felt the shift and nodded his approval. 'Yeah, that's the fuckin way son... Give it up for yer old man. Yer dad's fuckin doin yer now. Fuckin loosenin you up with his big dick.'

Only another few inches to go... Sike forced it in to the very base, eliciting a gasp from the boy.

'Yeaaahhhh. You're fuckin takin it all now. How about that?'

Jack moaned softly. His hole was being stretched wider than he could ever have imagined. He felt the man's hard length reaching into his gut. It burned. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He was fuckin trapped now.

'The whole of yer dad's big dick inside yer... Yer doin real good, son.'

'Nnnnnghhh. Feels. Amazin.'

The man was filled with a fierce unquenchable lust. He knew his lad was taking it for the first time and was gonna take a little while to adjust. He held it there, looking down at the dark wiry fuzz of his crotch up against smooth young cheeks. Yeahhhh. His fat hard tool right in there, nice n deep. In control. He looped his arms under the lad's legs to push them right back and leant right over the boy menacingly in the dim red glow now, hands placed either side, his close range stare pinning the boy down as much as the weight of his well-muscled frame.

'Ever thought it'd be as good as this, son?'

He began to gently thrust his full length in long smooth strokes. The lad had the look of an animal, staring into his eyes with a glazed hunted expression. Fuckin yer own son, eh Sike? Who'da fuckin thought it. Yer a twisted fucker. But then again... It was about fuckin time. Years of frustration for some fuckin action, finally being released with some horny straight lad violation. Fuck yeahhhh.

'Never... Thought...'

Jack struggled to answer the question: the sensation was too extreme. The man's sex felt like a shaft of fire in him. Maybe this is hell, he thought in his drunken horny state, maybe this will never end... Forcefucked forever. He looked down the chunky torso through the red tinged gloom to the steady flex of muscle below, working his tight hole. The fuckin sight of it. A real man fucking him... His dad fucking him... So unbelievably horny. He instinctively reached for his dick and began to squeeze the head, the good sensations making the fire easier to deal with. He was giving out soft little moans on every thrust now.

'Think you might be wantin this every week too, huh? Yer dad needs a good fuck every now and again, y'know.'

'Sure... Thing... Dad.'

'It can be a treat for yer at weekends, how about that?' Sike grinned inwardly at his own nasty inventiveness. Makin it sound like a fuckin trip to see the footie or something. Hehehe.

'Yeahhh... d'like that.' Oh fuck. This was gonna happen again and again and again. He knew his dad meant exactly what he said. His horny confusion magnified.

'You'll still get fed durin the week though. Don't you fuckin worry about that.'

Jack didn't doubt it for a second. As the minutes passed, he felt the speed and intensity nudging upwards and his moans increasing in pitch and volume, punctuated with short sharp intakes of breath. His battered rear was now being rammed with some considerable force by his mean n muscled dad and the fire inside was building. The dull slap and slosh of ferocious penetration broke the night's hush, the man talking low n dirty to him as he always did.

'Think you like takin it from yer dad, don'tcha son... You like getting fucked by yer old man?'


'Yeahhhh. Feel that motherfuckin dick inside yer. All the fuckin way.'

'Nnn... Nnnggh. Yeahhhh.'

'I'm takin you the fuckin distance, son. Doesn't get better than this...'

Jack's tormented mind was full of his dad's brutal strength, the older man's hard muscular body workin him mercilessly in the dim red glow. Maybe this really was hell. It was fuckin intense. TOO fuckin intense... He could hear the increasing urgency of his own moans and was unable to stop himself making them. No control. Fear and violence sliced into his horny teenage head... Oh fuck... Oh fuck... You're bein fuckin assaulted, Jack... And you fuckin asked for it... He gripped the chunky arm harder and stared desperately into his dad's mean stubbled face. How long was this gonna go on for? How bad was it gonna get? You really thought you could take it, Jack... You fuckin idiot...



'Can we... Nnnnghh... Slow down... Nnngh... A bit.'

Sike paused for a moment, his chunky meat lodged in deep. The pleading look on his son's face gave him a surge of sadistic pleasure.

'Please dad?'

The man narrowed his eyes again. He knew this was coming. Knew he'd take his son to the edge soon enough... Well, they were gonna fuckin stay there now. No goin back. He was just gonna have to learn that his dad played hard and fucked hard. He pushed the lad's arm roughly away and leaned over so that his own face was right close to the lad's.

'Nahhh, you fuckin wanted it, son, so I'm givin it to yer. I warned yer, dint I? Dint I?'

The anger in the man's voice and expression was not to be argued with and Jack knew he shouldn't have even asked. Bad boy, Jack. A dry gulp. He nodded meekly in defeat.

'Open yer gob.' Jack did as he was told and the man spat directly into his mouth. Intimidation and possession, rolled into one. Jack had no choice but to accept. His dad glared at him for a few seconds and did it again.

'Yeah, that's right. I'm in charge ere son. Don't you fuckin forget it. Shut yer fuckin gob and take what you're given. You wanted to get fucked by yer dad? Well, this is what it's like. Fuckin live with it.'

The man raised himself back again to his previous position and continued to glare at the boy. The assault resumed, swiftly becoming as ferocious as before. Jack savoured his dad's spit. He felt feverish. His meat had gone semi-soft with fear and he squeezed it for some reassurance.

'Nnnn... Nnnghhh. Sorry dad.'

'You will be.'


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