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Felix had been enjoying a wonderful time with his friend Tom who he met about six months ago or more. It was great, but soon, Tom had gotten a new job that took up a lot of his free time. He didn't have much time for hanging out as usual. Felix had begun to miss the close friendship. He was happy for his friend, but he missed spending quality time with him. He wanted to find a way to spend time with him a lot more than he currently had.
One day, Felix was over at Tom's house, watching TV with him. He felt it was time for him to propose the idea that probably would sound crazy.
"You know how you have been so busy with your new job recently, that we haven't had as much time for us to hang out like we used to?" Felix asked.
"Oh yeah, I know. I miss hanging out as well." Tom paused. "But my new job is more demanding than my old one. Yet, we still hang out when I have the time though." Tom added as he wiggled his toes.
Felix loved seeing his friend wiggling his toes. It was always tempting. He couldn't look away most of the time. When they hung out at each other's place, Tom would let him massage and worship his feet. He loved having a willing friend that would allow him.
"I see you staring as always." Tom smirked a little. "You know what to do." He added as he saw that Felix didn't need a second invitation. Felix got down on the floor at his feet and started to massage them. He loved having his feet being worshipped by him. It wasn't long before Felix had his nose up in his toes, sniffing them. After a good twenty minutes of licking and sniffing his feet, he saw that Felix had more to say.
"Well, we used to hang out more, but I know your new job is more demanding." Felix paused. "And I am happy for you, but I miss hanging out with you and worshipping your feet so much." He added, while massaging his feet with such passion.
"I know, but right now what can we do about it. It's a really good job, and I love working there." Tom spoke, looking down at his friend who was giving such a good foot massage.
"I think I have an idea on that." Felix started as he stopped massaging. "If I was to be your work socks, then I could spend all day with you, and only you would know." He suggested, waiting on Tom to respond. He was so hoping his friend would totally be on board with the idea.
Tom was slightly shocked at the idea, but he saw that Felix was serious. "Continue massaging my feet and let me ponder on the notion." He finally said after almost two minutes of silence. He saw Felix go back to massaging his feet, awaiting his answer. The idea of literally wearing Felix on his feet sounded crazy, but he could tell he wanted it badly. He even saw him go back to licking his feet as though that might persuade him to agree to it.
"You do know being on my feet might be Intel?" Tom paused. "You would have to absorb my foot sweat, be trapped in my shoes all day, walk on all day and reek of strong foot odor and sweat. All the while I go about my day as normal, not thinking much about my socks." He paused again. "Is that what you really want? To be treated like a pair of common socks while I work?" He asked, wanting to be sure this was Felix's wish.
"Oh, yes, very much so." Felix didn't hesitate on his response. It was the perfect way to spend time with his bestie since he is so busy at work.
Tom thought about it again. He saw there would be no persuading of this course of action. "If that is what you want, I will go with it." He paused, "but I have to warn you. I might not change you back if you are a really comfortable pair of work socks. You would belong to my feet for a very long time. Last chance to back out." He waited for a reply.
"So when are we doing it? The sooner the better." Felix spoke up, determined to be Tom's work socks. He handed Tom his phone showing him the TF Pro Max app. He had the sock setting already applied. "All you have to do is point the camera at me and hit the flash option." He said, all ready for this to happen.
Tom took the phone and pointed the camera at him. He hit the flash option without hesitation. Felix was a pair of brown socks with interesting designs on it on the floor. He lifted them up and found them to be perfect. "Tomorrow morning, you are going to work with me. Like I said earlier, if my feet feel really good, this will be your life for a very long time." He took the sock and put them on his dresser for in the morning. He went back to watch tv.
The next morning, as Tom was finishing getting ready for work, he grabbed his new work socks. He put them on his feet and found them super comfortable. He wiggled his toes in them. Knowing that his socks were Felix, it felt kind of dominating, having him on his feet. A guy was literally wrapped around and trapped on his feet, completely at his mercy.
"Remember, you asked for this. So don't complain for what happens next." Tom said as he grabbed his boots for work.
Felix was in such ecstasy on his friend's feet. It was everything he had ever imagined it would be. "Mmmmm, love being on your feet...mmmm...." He mentally spoke. He felt every part of his feet. He tasted every part of his feet. He could smell every part of his feet. His feet had a fresh smell for now, but he knew they would get sweaty soon. He actually was looking forward to it. He loved worshipping his sweaty feet and odor. It was exciting to him to go to work with Tom like this. The best part was that no one at Tom's office would not even know about his existence on his feet. He would be completely at Tom's mercy all day long. He started to think if his friend might enjoy this experience as much as he was.
Tom smelled his boots briefly before putting them on his feet. He had this pair of boots for the past six months. They smelled of his ownership of them. After securing his boots on his feet, he wiggled his toes in his new socks. He wondered if Felix was enjoying his new existence on his feet. One fact was that Felix did make an excellent pair of socks. His feet felt good wearing them. His new socks made his boots even more comfortable than before. He then realized he needed to focus since he was getting ready for work. He didn't have time to think about how his socks felt while being at work.
Felix enjoyed his new form even more than before. He had often fantasized about sniffing his friend's shoes. He was now inside them, and it was greater than he ever imagined. The smell was so intoxicating that he didn't want to leave it. The fact that he was wrapped around the feet he had often worshipped made it even better.
For the next eight hours or so, Felix found himself supporting every step Tom took. He was completely ignored while his friend worked in the office. There was some toe wiggling throughout the day, but even that was a wonderful experience. It showed how much he was at the mercy of his friend's feet. Even as Tom's feet got a little sweaty in his boots, he absorbed and loved the taste of his foot sweat. He found his sock body beginning to smell like his owner's feet. Even though he was being ignored like a common pair of socks, he was still getting to hangout with his friend regardless. That was really the point of this whole thing, honestly.
Tom got home at the end of his day. His feet hadn't felt this good in a long while. His new socks really did the trick. He took off his boots and sat in his favorite chair to watch the evening news. He rested his socked feet on the footrest in front of him. The thought of changing Felix back to normal was slowly escaping his mind. 'Who gets rid of a great pair of socks,' he questioned himself mentally.
"I hope you don't mind, but I want to keep you like this a little longer." Tom paused with a smirk on his face. "Don't know how long just yet. But remember, you volunteered for this." He added as he continued to watch TV, not thinking much about his socks.
Felix didn't mind one bit. Tom could keep him as his socks for as long as he wanted. Getting to worship his friend's feet was great, but this was way better. Being wrapped around his friend's feet was far greater than normal foot worship. He could stay his socks forever and not miss his humanity.
So as promised here in my pinned post, I owe you all a vore story, and I finally took the time to write one out. It's a proper short, ~5400 words. There are dad x son elements, but the vore itself is between the dad and a hookup from Grindr while the son... participates in his own way.
If you like and feel like supporting me, buying some of my erotica, whether it's Connor's TF stories or Luca's incest stories, would be cool af. No pressure though. Okay, here it goes:
1
The first summer I hopped in my dad’s truck after a year of college passed, I spent the hours working up the courage to finally blurt out, “I’m gay.”
That buff, gruff contractor glanced over at me. He wore one of those smirks he pulled out any time he was about to drop one of the worst dad jokes ever concocted. But all he said was, “Guess the rumors are true.” Before my heart could sink or my mind could race over the possibilities, he said, “Apples really don’t fall far from the tree.” His beer gut rumbled. He scratched his chin. “You hungry?”
On his next birthday, he came out to everyone.
The third summer, the one after my junior year, he sits in his truck in a rainbow flag tank top. He’s no more flamboyant than he’d been before, but he’s taken to wearing pride stuff. “How else are the twinks going to know to hit on me?” he’d say to anyone who questioned his fashion.
“You expecting to run into a bunch of twinks today?” I ask as I buckle up.
“Figured you’d be friends with some,” Dad says. “I liked that Trevor. He looked pretty delicious. You hitting that?”
“We’re both bottoms,” I say.
Dad tuts. “That’s a shame.”
“He’s all yours if you want him.”
“Mm.” He grabs his bulge and shifts it around.
I look out the window as quickly as I can. Watching my old man get hard over one of my friends is not on my bucket list. “If we weren’t going on a trip, maybe I’d set you two up.” My nose scrunches. Those words taste gross.
Buildings whiz by in silence. Guess Dad felt as awkward as I did. Even after he came out, we didn’t talk much about it. He once asked me for help setting up his Grindr profile, and every now and then he would text with questions about gay culture, but that was it. It was weird, not that I wanted to talk to him about that shit. There’ll be plenty of time for it, though. We’re going on a road trip from Stonewall all the way down to Hamburger Mary’s and then back to my apartment. He wanted to make up for all the Pride Months he’s missed out on.
A few minutes pass, and Dad turns down the old man rock music. He clears his throat. “You ever swallow a guy?”
I frown and don’t look up from the word game on my phone. “Yeah, Dad, I’ve got a belly full of cum right now. I swallow all the time.”
He laughs. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I wasn’t being serious.”
“I know, Tanner.” Leather creaks as his grip tightens on the wheel. He shifts around in his seat. “I was asking if…” He buzzes his lips. “Fuck it. You ever digest anyone?”
He isn’t grinning. Shit. I have to give him credit. Normally when he’s joking, he can’t keep his face straight. “Don’t think I’ve ever even met a pred.” That probably isn’t true. 0.5% of the population are preds. I’d probably ran into one on the street before. I’d watched a vorno or two with friends.
“You never get hungry or anything?”
My brows rise. “For a whole person? No. Think I’d just hurt my jaw.”
“You don’t have to use your mouth.”
“What?”
“Some of those… types, uh, I don’t think they like the word preds. But some of those guys, they can use anything: mouth, ass, cock, even. Pits. Chest. Sure others can use more than that. You’ve never…? With any of them?”
“Could tell you about the time I almost got fisted, but that’s not really a father-son convo, is it?”
He laughs again. “It could be. But I get it.” He sniffed. “I was just… wondering, you know, how close the apple fell to the tree.”
Dad doesn’t look at me.
“That’s not very funny.”
“Nah. Not most of the time. I mean, I get a good chuckle when I fart out a last breath.” He chuckles. “Sorry. That’s dark.”
I squirm in the seat. “People just… let you do that?”
“Some.” He scratches his chest. “Tend not to think it through, but some want it. Some deserve it.” He clears his throat. Some sweat coats his forehead. “You’re the first person I’ve told in a long time. Well, that didn’t wind up inside me.”
“Right. Well. No worries there.” I try out a laugh. It doesn’t sound right. His stomach doesn’t look large enough to hold a whole person in there, but in those vornos, preds seemed to be a pretty stretchy sort. “Um. Thanks for telling me. Glad you, uh, could.” The truck feels smaller than normal. It’s old. The AC isn’t as strong as it should be. My shirt sticks to my chest. “Well, you’re still my dad. No change there.”
“Good.”
I can’t stop the words before they fall out. “What happens to the guys you eat?”
Dad lets out a long breath. “I always let ‘em out, Tanner. It’s just, you know, sometimes I let ‘em out as a pile of shit.”
“Ew.”
He laughs. “Yeah. It’s not pretty.”
A few more buildings pass, and then we’re on the highway. There’s not much traffic. We left at a weird time to avoid it all.
“What about the others?” I ask.
“What?”
“You said sometimes.” I turn the air up. The truck smells like sweat. My mouth is dry, and my head’s a bit light. Prickly. “So you, like, don’t digest all of them. How do you know which one is which?”
“We barely talk about sex but you want to know all about me churning guys, huh?” Dad taps the steering wheel. “Some guys, there’s not much choice. They just don’t last long. Nuts or gut claim ‘em too quick to let ‘em out. Others… I mean, anyone digests if you keep them tucked away long enough, but until then, you can always let ‘em out. And I don’t really have a checklist or anything. It’s more a feeling. Some guys are guys. Some guys are food. Food gets churned.”
“What’s it like?”
“Hot as fuck.” He laughs. “For me.” He slaps his gut. “Gets pretty heated in there, so I guess it’s hot for him too. They almost always jerk off.” Dad glances over at me. “That’s what you really wanted to know, right?”
“I don’t want to know if you get off to snuffing people, Dad.”
“Nah. You wanted to know if you’d get horny in here.” He winks, looks back at the road. His voice drops. “I could do it to you.”
My stomach clenches. I scoot away from him, not that there’s much room to do that in the truck. But fuck. My stupid fucking cock stirs in my shorts. “Do what? Shove me up your ass and get me to jerk off in you or… Or, you know, churn me.”
Dad hums. Then, “Or.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” I mumble.
“Scared you’ll ask to try it out?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You’re my son. I love you, Tanner. I don’t want to dump you into the sewers.” He reaches over and grabs my shoulder. “Trust me. Even if you’re begging for it, I won’t eat you.”
“I won’t beg.”
He laughs and lets go of me.
2
“You want to grab a slice somewhere? Think I saw a 99 cent pizza nearby,” Dad says after stepping out of the shower in our hotel room. A towel hangs around his waist. Steam clings to his hairy muscle gut; it dances over his fat nipples. The novelty ball cap he stuck on when we entered NYC, the one reading ‘Daddy’, is unfortunately accurate in a couple of ways.
I hit the mute for the TV. The episode of Family Guy quiets. “Sure. You going with or want me to grab one for you?”
He shakes his head. “I already ordered dinner.”
Rude. “I don’t get any?”
Dad holds up his phone. “You can’t. I got it off Grindr.”
My eyes drift down to his lips. He’s grinning. His canines are sharp. They always have been. Why is that? It’s not like preds chew their food. “So I should… wander around the city for a couple hours.” My throat is dry. Clearing it doesn’t help. “Really should have gotten two rooms.” The king-size bed seems to shrink as I grab my wallet off the dresser.
You don’t digest a full person in just a few hours, do you? The guy will still be gurgling away when we’re in bed. When…
I can just sleep on the couch. Duh.
“Well, have fun.”
“Hold on.” Dad grabs me. He stretches an arm out in front of us, grins at the camera, and snaps a pic. “Really captures your anxious chipmunk vibe.”
“I’m not a chipmunk.”
“Nope. You’re a daddy’s boy, and now the Grindr folks know it.” He slaps my back. “You’re too wound up. Figure telling the grid that I want to watch my boy get pumped might get your ass more filled than mine is going to be.”
“You don’t want to watch that.”
Dad shrugs as he walks over to the bed. “You’ve got no idea what I want. Now that I’m thinking about it, this red-headed twink is going to be a while. Go ahead and grab me a slice too while you’re out.”
3
I’m in the middle of shuffling through my clothes to figure out what exactly it it I want to wear out to the bars when there’s a knock on the hotel door.
“You mind getting that?” Dad asks. He’s not doing anything, just lounging on the bed in his tighty whities, but I am technically closer to the door, so it’s whatever.
A towering, ginger twink stands on the other side. He’s got a smattering of freckles that concentrate around his nose like some cartoon blush effect. The grin on his face exposes brighter teeth than I’ve ever seen, even on TV. They’re fucking blinding. “You look like a deer in headlights,” he says, staring down at me. “That’s cute.”
I clear my throat and step back. “Um, come in. I’m Tanner.”
“I’m George.”
“Phillip,” Dad calls out, though he doesn’t get up from the bed. “My boy’s real cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir,” George says as he walks in. He isn’t carrying anything with him. Must have his wallet and stuff in his pants. Would he even bring anything, though? Does he know he’s my dad’s dinner? If he came here to get churned, there’s no reason to bring anything with him. Maybe he doesn’t know. Fuck. That’s grim.
I close the door, and in doing so, I probably seal the guy’s fate.
“Handsome couple,” George says as he pulls off his shirt.
Dad winks at my look of confusion. “I’ve got good taste,” he says.
“You two ever do this before?” George reaches out. He almost touches my face, but doesn’t. His finger hovers over my nose. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you, Tanner?”
I nod.
How could I not be? I’ve never seen a pred get to work before.
“That’s cute,” George says. He takes a step closer. His cologne is nice. There’s a hint of vanilla in it. That’s the best scent. If I were a pred, would that smell make my stomach growl? Would I grab him and shove his face down my throat?
It doesn’t growl, though.
“Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable if I just watch at first,” George suggests. “Let your daddy ease you into it. That sound good?”
My jaw trembles.
No. That doesn’t sound good. Dad should just get this over with. Otherwise…
The bed creaks. Dad climbs out of it. His massive feet plod against the floor as he saunters over to us. He’s about the same height as George but his mass was enough for nearly three of the twink. “Smart idea,” he says. He grabs my chin. “Let daddy take care of you, Tanner.”
Our lips press together.
Oh fuck.
I’m kissing my old man.
And it isn’t a little peck, either. His thick tongue forces its way between my lips. His calloused hand wanders down my back until it grips my ass. Dad’s strong fingers knead my ass as his tongue explores my mouth. He tastes like pizza. I probably taste the same.
His stomach growls.
A shiver runs up my spine, and it shoots a moan out of my mouth.
Dad chuckles and pulls back. “Enjoying the show?” he asks George.
“Yeah.” The twink has tossed off the rest of his clothes. He stands there naked, hand slowly working the shaft that’s as long and skinny as the rest of him. The hair around his cock is a darker red than what’s on his head.
“Be a good boy,” Dad says. He lets go of my ass, grabs my shoulder, and pushes me down to my knees. “Help our new friend out with that while daddy gets a taste of his hot mouth.”
It’s weird to be kneeling in front of my old man while he’s tenting out his underwear. There’s a wet spot near the head of his cock. He and the twink are practically the same height. It’d be easy to kiss one dick and move right to the other.
My brows dance.
That was a fucked up thought. He’s my dad.
Warmth spills off his bulge though. A woodsy scent wafts from him, too. It mixes with George’s vanilla and dances around in my nostrils. Each breath makes my thundering heart calm down a little.
They kiss above me, shoulders pressed together. Dad has a possessive grip on George’s neck. George’s cock twitches every couple of seconds. The head is shiny with precum.
Better to suck him off than to keep thinking about the rest of it.
It’s a nice cock. It feels better against my tongue than it looks, honestly. George’s precum is sweet but not overly so. It doesn’t overwhelm the natural taste of a dick. It’s a shame it isn’t a little thicker. It’s at the exact girth that’s hard for me to get down my throat. A little more in either direction, and I wouldn’t wind up gagging on it almost immediately. Don’t ask. I don’t know why I’m built like that.
After a few tries, I stop attempting to deepthroat him. It just isn’t going to happen. I keep to the first couple of inches.
Dad moves a bit, and suddenly his bulge is pressed up against the side of my face as I suck George off. My cheek rubs against his shaft. The scent is a little stronger. The more I breathe it in, the more my thoughts stop racing. Or maybe it’s the cock sucking that’s doing it for me. Everyone is treating this as normal. If I freaked out, I’d be the weird one. Just go with it, Tanner. That’s what I keep telling myself until I no longer do.
At some point, Dad and George stop kissing. Dad steps back. He shoves down his underwear and climbs back onto the bed. His massive cock drapes over his right thigh. Is that natural, or did it only get that big from gulping down other men? Mine doesn’t look like that. Maybe my dick genes came from the other side of the family.
“He’s cock drunk,” George says. He bends over, shoves his hands under my pits, and pulls me up to my feet. His tongue traces the side of my neck. “You’re wearing too much.”
“Strip him,” Dad orders.
“Yes, sir,” George says.
Before I can think to do anything, George is pulling my shirt off. His fingers are soft. He rubs one over one of my nipples as he shoves my shorts and underwear down in one motion. He grabs my dick. I’m hard. When did that happen? “Shame you’re a bottom,” he whispers as he strokes me. “You’ve got a nice dick, Tanner.”
“Thank you,” I mutter.
Dad clears his throat. We look over at him. He’s got his hands tucked behind his head. “I need a good boy in each of my hairy fucking pits right now,” he says. His cock jumps. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Mm. Lucky you, having a daddy like that whenever you want,” George whispers. He lets go of me and climbs onto the bed. His small ass sways a bit as he crawls over to Dad’s left side. He nuzzles into Dad’s underarm.
“You just gonna stand there?” Dad asks.
“Dad, I—”
“Come here.”
Precum bubbles out my dick. My balls clench. Gooseflesh raises on my arms. I shouldn’t. But I nod. And I climb onto the bed.
“That’s a good boy,” Dad says as I get closer and closer. He licks his lips. “Get a real good taste of your old man, okay? Might just wake you up.”
Oh. He wants me to be a pred.
It must be lonely, being one of those. There aren’t many in the world, and most people talk about them like they’re these cruel monsters. Dad was in the closet for so long, and he’s a pred on top of that.
What a lonely life he must’ve had.
I don’t want to be what he is. I don’t want to snuff guys out in my gut. But… I don’t want my old man to feel alone anymore either. Maybe he’s right. Maybe if I take a dose of his pheromones or sweat or whatever he thinks is in his pits that’ll do the trick, I’ll be the one with a gut stretched out over George. And he’ll coach me through it all. And we’ll have each other.
I press my nose into the furry expanse of my dad’s underarm.
It’s the same scent as his bulge, but more concentrated. Static bounces around in my lungs. My brows and lips dance as I smell him. My toes curl. I moan, and my tongue stretches out. I lap at his skin. I don’t know why. But it’s right. It’s what he wants. What I want. I need it.
He tastes so fucking good. Smells good. A fuzziness fills my head.
Did I take a gummy earlier? I haven’t been drinking.
Fuck, he smells good.
Dad growls. “Good fucking boys,” he says. “Worshiping your god. Such good sons.”
I nuzzle against Dad’s side. My hard cock rubs against him. I could cum like this, tongue buried in his pit, humping him. His chest hair is soft against my palm. Why am I rubbing his chest? Dad’s cock is further down. If I reach for his dick, will it take hold of my hand? Will I go back down the dick that made me and get melted down into a load? From cum we’re born, to cum we shall return.
But when my fingers start their journey down, Dad says, “That’s enough. Sit up.”
George and I both obey. It doesn’t take any thought. It’s nice. It’s nice to obey.
My head is swimming.
Dad’s stomach growls. My hole pulses.
“I need a nice big meal for dinner,” Dad says. He grabs his gut and shakes it. “Which lucky boy is going to melt away in daddy’s belly tonight?”
“Me,” George and I say at the same time.
Dad chuckles. “Yeah? You both wanna feed me? Was wondering if my pred stink would work on you, Tanner. Guess coming out of my dick doesn’t protect you from the food chain.” Dad hummed. “I don’t know. I might only have room for one prey boy in there. How to choose…”
“I’m your son,” I say. I don’t know why I want it so bad, but I do. I need to be inside him. No, it’s not that. I need to be… melting inside him. I need to return to Dad’s body. It’s what I was born for. Screw college, careers, everything. None of it could ever be as important as giving Dad the nutrients from my body, my youth, my everything.
He lifts his legs up. A large hand tugs on my arm. “Straddle my chest,” he orders, and I oblige. He keeps pulling his legs back. I grab them on instinct, but he places a hand on my back and pushes me down until my nose hovers over his cock. “You’re a bottom, so you need to make sure my cock is nice and wet before I fuck you. George, you want at this daddy cunt? You get down there and eat me out. From here on, it’s a competition boys. Prove you want to be the one to please me.”
My chest flutters.
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. But I press my lips against my father’s balls. His musk leaks into my lungs, and the buzz in my veins gets stronger. My dick is crying out. It’s telling me that it won’t be satisfied unless I’m jerking off from within my old man.
If that means I have to throat the cock that made me, then so be it.
Dad crosses his legs around my chest as I lower my mouth on his shaft. He’s thicker than George. My jaw burns. My eyes water. But he’s somehow easier to take. It’s like each breath of his musk is a hit of poppers. My throat relaxes. Saliva spills out the corners of my mouth. And I swallow.
George buries his tongue between the spread, hairy cheeks. He massages them as his tongue darts in and around Dad’s hole. I watch him work with his eyes closed. The more he attacks Dad’s ass, the more a fire rages in my belly. I swirl my tongue around as best I can. I try to hum against Dad’s dick. I grind my cock against Dad’s chest like the sight might make him hornier and hungrier for me than George. I’ve got that advantage.
But it’s like George doesn’t even care that I’m there. He isn’t watching me. He doesn’t mind how my saliva leaks down over Dad’s ass and slips into his mouth. George isn’t trying to outdo me. He’s just trying to pleasure that hairy fucking hole.
And maybe that’s why he wins.
Dad’s legs tighten around me. He grunts. And with Dad’s cock halfway down my throat, I watch as George’s face sinks into Dad’s ass.
The twink makes a noise of semi-surprise. For a second, he pushes against Dad’s cheeks like he’s trying to pull himself back out. Either he gives up or it doesn’t work. The moment he relaxes, the rest of his head is hoovered up.
Dad’s cock pulses in my mouth. He moans. “Fuuuuck, baby,” he moans. “That’s a good fucking slut.”
A thick, hard bulge moves underneath me as George slowly inches his way inside my father’s hole. Once the shoulders slip past the muscular ring, the rest is pretty easy. George is moaning and whimpering.
“Don’t stop sucking, son,” Dad orders.
I don’t want to stop watching. I don’t want to suck him anymore. I want to tear myself off his cock, throw his legs off me, and yank George out of there. It isn’t fair. It should be me disappearing up Dad’s ass. I should be the one whose every movement makes Dad’s guts squelch and gurgle. I should be the bulge traveling up his intestines. I should be the one making him moan.
“Suck my fucking cock,” he says.
And I do as I’m told. I bob my head up and down my dad’s shaft as the twink travels up into that ravenous ass. His arms get pinned to his side. He doesn’t try to grasp at the sheets or anything. George humps the mattress as he’s turned into a meal. His moans are muffled by Dad’s body, but I can still hear them.
“It’s so warm in here,” he groans.
“It’ll get even warmer,” Dad says.
“I’m gonna cum!” George cries
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Dad says, but it’s not like George has much say in the matter.
As George’s waist disappears, he cries out. He squirms more as he unleashes his load. At least, I assume that’s what he’s doing. It’s not like I can see his dick. It’s enveloped by Dad’s ass.
“Dad’s gonna cum soon, Tanner. Swallow every drop like a good boy, okay?”
That’s when George’s legs start moving more. The bulge underneath me moves around more. When George speaks, he doesn’t sound as horny. “That was hot, but can you let me out now?”
“Mm. See, Tanner, here’s the thing about being a pred: A dose of brain melting musk tends to wear off when the other person cums.” Dad’s stomach growls.
With a heavy schlurp, more of George’s legs vanish. When they do, George bucks around some more. “Wrong way!” He tries to laugh it off.
“I’ll let you out,” Dad says. “Once I’m done churning you down into shit.”
“What? No!” George cries out. The bulge starts moving more.
Dad’s gut gets louder, and he gets even harder in my mouth. He pushes me further down on his cock with his legs. He bucks up into my mouth as George starts cursing and begging.
What’s his problem? He’s getting what he wants.
What I want.
I wouldn’t be such a bitch about it if I was the one about to get digested.
“Fuck yeah,” Dad moans. “I fucking love it when they freak out. The calm ones, those are the ones I have to let out because it gets boring. But the panicked ones. Fuck! They feel so good. God, Tanner. Here it comes. Here it fucking cums!”
Dad’s cock swells. A heavy shot slams into the back of my throat. I swallow on instinct, and I keep swallowing as rope after rope flies out. As Dad orgasms, his stomach clenches. His hole yanks George’s legs further inside. By the time Dad’s cock settles down, only George’s feet remain to be swallowed.
Somehow, I manage not to blast my own load all over Dad’s chest.
The legs wrapped around me ease up, and I pull off the dick that made me. “Are you really gonna do it?” I ask. “Churn him up?”
“He’s my dinner,” Dad says. “Would you vomit out that pizza you ate earlier just because it didn’t want to turn into shit? Fuck no. Why should George be any different?”
I roll off Dad. I crawl down the mattress, my head still swimming, my cock begging for release. I shift around until I’m face-to-face with Dad’s asshole, stretched out around George’s ankles. George’s toes clench.
“You want me to let him out?” Dad asks.
I should. I know that. I should grab his feet and pull George to freedom. “You’re not full, are you?” I ask.
Dad laughs. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking prey slut, Tanner. Desperate to become your old man’s dump, aren’t you?”
A whimper spilled out of my lips. “Yes, sir.”
Oh! If I grab George’s feet, then Dad won’t have a choice. When he gives that final swallow, my arms will go in. As long as I don’t let go of George, he’ll have to take us both or let us both go. And he already said George is food. George is getting digested. So if I can just…
As soon as I reach up for the twink’s twitching feet, Dad grunts. My fingers tap against the clenched hole.
He whistles. “Too slow.”
“That’s not fair,” I whine. I dive forward. My tongue laps at the hairy skin. The scent of Dad’s musk rolls through me once more. I shiver and grind against the mattress as I lap at his ass. That’s what George was doing when it opened up and took him. Surely, if I eat him out, he’ll open up. I’ll slip inside. I’ll get to be part of dinner.
I earned this. I was good. I swallowed his load. He has to swallow me. I need it.
Dad laughs. His legs lower until my tongue is just lapping at his taint, his low hanging balls spilling over my nose. “Too bad for you, Tanner. It’s not going to open up for you.”
I pull back. “Why not?”
“I told you on the drive: even if you beg for it, I’m not eating you. You’re my son.”
“That didn’t stop you from cumming in my mouth!”
Dad nods. He hums. “Hm. That’s a good point.” He pats his thrashing gut. “Listen.”
I pull myself up until my face rests against his stomach. George is crying in there. It’s gurgling. It’s hard to make out any words.
“Is that what you want?” Dad asks. “You want my gut to work you over? Bathe you in stomach acids until you break apart and get turned into gay boy soup? Nothing but nutrients for your old man. And then I’ll slurry you through my guts. You’ll get dried out and packed up into tight clumps. And I’ll shit you out in the morning. Is that what you want? You want to be my shit, son?”
I cry out. My cock spits out cum all over the mattress.
My eyes roll into the back of my head. I catch myself before I fall over.
Dad’s grinning at me. “You back to your senses?”
Cumming should chase away the pheromones. That’s what he said.
But…
I rub his gut. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”
“Of course, Tanner. Thanks for accepting it. And hey.”
I look up at him. There’s a dark, hungry look in his eyes. Dad grins with all his teeth. His stomach growls, and he clenches his gut until there’s a horrible, sickening crunch. “I promise that’s in your future, Tanner.”
Right then and there, I should have gathered my things and ran. But maybe the musk was still in my system, because I went right back down and started suckling on my dad’s dick, fingers prodding at his hole like he might eat me then and there.
4
I stir as the world bounces. I blink awake. My head is against Dad’s shoulder as he carries me into the bathroom in our hotel room, all those years of manual labor letting him casually carry a sleeping man around as if I weigh nothing at all. We’re both naked.
“Morning, sport,” he says. He turns around over the toilet and sits down. He hugs me tight against him. “Figured you should get the full picture.”
“I had a weird dream.”
“No, you didn’t. Last night I tanked a twink from Grindr and you were upset he was the one I digested instead of you. You begged me until I promised to eat you.”
I shudder. But I’m too tired to flail. Hell, I’m not strong enough to escape him anyway. Plus… he smells nice. I breathe him in. It calms me. “I’m not… breakfast, am I?”
“No. I just want you to know the whole process. You’ll have time to get used to it. Every room on the trip has a pred toilet for me, made sure of that.” A fart rumbles out of his ass. Dad laughs. “Smell that? That’ll be you in a few weeks.”
My nose wrinkles. I press my face harder against his chest like that’ll block out the rest of it. Water splashes. That must be… He’s finally letting George out.
“Are you going to reform him?” I ask. “I heard… some preds can do that.”
“I could. I do sometimes. But this is a vacation. Why the fuck would I go through all that trouble?”
More splashes. Another fart.
My fingers dig into Dad’s shoulders. “And when… if… you do that… to me? You’ll reform me, right?”
Dad hums. “Of course, buddy. If I eat you while we’re on the road, of course I’ll bring you back. Don’t want to go without my son on our father-son outing.” He lifts my hips and pushes his cock between my cheeks. He lines it up with my hole and shoves me down. I gasp, head shooting off his chest, nose immediately assaulted by the scents of disposal.
Once I quiet down some, he grabs me by the neck. He holds me there as he lets out more of George. A squirt of something – piss, maybe – fills my ass. When the latest release ceases, he grins and says, “But Tanner, I think we both knew the moment you told me you aren’t a pred was the moment you dropped out of college. At the end of this road trip, it’ll be you I’m flushing, baby boy. And I’m going to love every fucking moment of it.”
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