Muscled Hypno Toy

~Hey Bottom Slut. Be ready. 3 customers are on their way. ~

Look at this muscle daddy. He came to see me because he was going through a mid life crisis. He couldn’t get used to the fact he wasn’t as young as he used to be. I soon corrected him of his problem. Now he doesn’t care about his age. He doesn’t care about anything. He exists solely to serve. Now all he does is provide a hole for me to fuck when I need and train to stay in shape. Gone are his worries. Gone are his problems. All that remains belongs to me.

Travis had knocked up my sister Mavis a few months prior—on their second date. From the moment he hit puberty and sprouted the first few dense chest hairs on his beefy pecs, it was no secret that Travis took great pleasure in spreading his salty seed all over the county—deflowering countless willing bitches in the process. Thus, it was only a matter of time before he got some poor girl in trouble, and Mavis was that girl.

After their shotgun wedding, my daddy insisted that Travis move in with us, refusing to have his grandbaby born and raised in the dilapidated RV behind the gas station where Travis lived and worked. I must admit that sharing a home with this hunk of a man who was always shirtless, his glorious pelt on display, was a wet dream come true. But forcing Travis to live with us was like caging a wild panther. It was inevitable that he’d go on the prowl once more. And my aim was to be ready for him—my hole for his taking.

Late at night, after Mavis had gone to bed, her belly expanding with Travis’s growing spawn, Travis would chug beers before the TV, shirtless, a crumpled mass of beer cans at his feet, while watching porn. And after about a dozen beers, Travis would pull down the waistband of his athletic shorts, pull out his big, hairy cock, and rub one out.

I was stunned the first time I spied on him from our darkened kitchen, his massive cock in his fist. The fucker was easily ten inches, thick like a tree trunk, and crowned by a fat ’shroom head. He worked his huge cock with a frenzy, stroking up and down laboriously until he spewed his pearly load all over his hairy chest with a deep grunt. Travis then pulled up his shorts over his spent cock and slowly ambled up the stairs to Mavis’s bed.

Some of his salty load remained on the couch—a gift for me. Licking it off the cushions, it was like feasting on manna from heaven. But I wasn’t content with a few drops of his seed. I wanted it all inside me, swimming in my depths—like Mavis. I started to scheme, developing a plan to coerce Travis into fucking me. But in the end, Travis needed no coercing.

It was on the third night of my spying on Travis from the kitchen that he busted me. “You know I can see you in there,” he announced from the couch, his massive cock in hand. “It’s rude as fuck to watch like that, dude.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I stuttered, embarrassed that he caught me. “I was just—uh—getting some water.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “If you wanna come jack with me—just fuckin’ do it.”

“You—you don’t mind?” I stammered, in disbelief at my luck.

“I grew up with eight older brothers,” he laughed. “How do you think I learned to jack off? In our house, it was no different than pissing in front of each other.”

Slowly I made my way to the couch, already rock hard at the image of Travis and his eight, beefy, hairy brothers having a group jack fest together—like something from Sean Cody.

“I’m not as big as you,” I offered reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch next to Travis, pulling down my shorts to reveal my hard seven-incher. “Your big dick makes mine look small.”

“I ain’t interested in your cock,” Travis scrunched his face. “I’m only interested in this bitch on the TV,” he gestured to a bleached blonde with huge tits getting her pussy railed by a tated guy with a cock almost as large as Travis’s big dick.

The pussy porn was of no interest to me. I tried to be discreet, sneaking glances at Travis’s big cock as often as I could without getting busted. But it was a losing battle. I was staring intently at his massive member when Travis broke my concentration.

“Mavis told me about you,” Travis began, still stroking himself, precum dripping from his slit.

“What? She told you what about me?”

“That you—you like doing that kinda shit,” Travis gestured to the TV, where the hung dude was now fucking the porn bitch up the ass while fingering her cunt. “She said you’re gay—that she once walked in on you with some random dude’s dick up your ass.”

“Uh—yeah,” I admitted, slightly pissed that Mavis had shared that embarrassing encounter with him. “I love taking it up the ass,” I added unequivocally, determined to feel no shame in front of this über-hetero man. “You ever try fucking ass?”

“Fuck NO,” he spat indignantly. “I don’t fuck guys.”

“No—I mean, I know,” I tried to calm him. “I meant—have you ever fucked a girl up the ass?”

“Nah,” he shrugged.

“Not even Mavis?” I joked.

“Shit no,” he laughed. “But if she’d have let me, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I hear you,” I sympathized. “I know this isn’t easy for you—that your life’s been turned upside down by the baby on the way.”

“Yeah,” he grimaced. “But it’s my own fault. I pulled out too late, dumping my load in her. I can’t go back and undo it, so all I can do now is pay the price. I think the hardest part for me is that Mavis won’t let me fuck her anymore—says she doesn’t want my big dick hurting the baby. I get it, but I ain’t used to not getting pussy every night.”

“Man, that’s rough,” I sympathized, staring at his big cock as I reclined on the couch, opening my legs wide. Licking my index finger, I began to finger my hole. “It’s too bad there’s not another option here for you.”

With his hard cock still in hand, Travis’s attention was diverted from the porn bitch on the TV as he watched me finger fucking myself. I expected him to get angry—to tell me to stop—to say he didn’t want any part of my faggoty shit. But he was immobile, entranced, his eyes locked on my fingers—two and then three—working my eager hole.

I could see his wheels turning, his big dick growing ever more rigid and engorged as he imagined my fingers replaced with his hard cock. The man needed a warm, wet hole, and I was serving it up to him on a silver plate. As if on cue, the porn bitch moaned from the TV: “Yeah—fuck my ass with that big cock. Fuck my tight ass.”

And then Travis came at me with lightning speed, forcing my feet to his chest as he mounted me. His massive cock was balls deep in me with one, violent thrust.

“HOLY FUCK,” I winced, trying not to wake the house by screaming my head off.

His huge cock hurt like fuck. I wasn’t wet enough, barely lubed with a little spit before I fingered myself. I could have fetched my lube from upstairs, or even some Crisco from the kitchen, but I was too afraid that if I stopped Travis, if I put a pause to him fucking me, he might come to his senses and decide not to fuck me after all. The risk was too great, and so I endured the initial pain.

Thankfully, the fucker’s precum was like a faucet, wetting my hole better than a good shot of Astroglide. His big cock began to feel phenomenal inside me, routing my depths, going deeper than any cock I had taken. Jesus, it was a good ride.

I could tell Travis was enjoying the ride, too. Glancing down at his big dick as he worked my hole, he grunted with each thrust. I rested my feet against his meaty, hairy pecs, tipping my pelvis, allowing him to go as deep as he pleased in my warm fuck hole.

“Fuck, you gotta sweet cunt,” he growled, his big cock routing my depths. “I can’t recall the last time I had pussy that was this fuckin’ good.”

As Travis pounded my quivering cunt over and over again, I imagined all the bitches he must have fucked over the years—too numerous to count—and what they would think if they knew Travis was now giving that big cock to a dude. And from the look of deep satisfaction on his face, Travis—although he might not admit it—had learned that ass is way better than pussy.

For that reason, I shouldn’t have been surprised that Travis didn’t last long inside my tight hole. Sweat began to condense on his hairy chest, matting his dense fur. His breathing had intensified. His thrusts became harder, faster, more deliberate. His animalistic grunts increased. The dude was about to bust—hard.

“You gonna cum in me?” I demanded, his big cock swelling inside me. “Shoot that load in my pussy?”

“I’m about to—OH FUCK—SHIT,” he grunted, his body shuddering, his cock throbbing inside me. I could feel every blast of his load as it erupted inside of me, spewing into my depths. He looked down again, enjoying the view of his engorged cock breeding me, my hole twitching in response.

“Mmm, yeah,” I moaned, reveling in the warmth of his load inside me. “Seed my fucking hole—make a baby in me.”

When he had finished, Travis pulled out abruptly, shaking off his spent cock, a glob of pearly cum launching towards the floor. Wordlessly, he pulled on his shorts and stumbled upstairs to bed with my sister Mavis—his seed kicking in her womb and swimming in my bowels simultaneously.

I couldn’t say I noticed any change in Travis the next day. It wasn’t like he ever talked with me much or had anything to do with me. But after dinner, as I rinsed the dirty dishes in the sink, Mavis rubbing her swollen belly on the couch, Travis came up behind me.

“You gonna give up that pink pussy to me again tonight?” he whispered, his breath already laced with a couple beers from dinner. “I got another load in these balls for you.”

And so it became a nightly ritual, Travis using my eager hole, dumping his load into my greedy cunt. I thought our nightly fucks might end once the baby came and Mavis’s pussy was back in working order, but Travis was not willing to give me up.

Six months after the baby arrived, Travis got a better paying job, managing the auto parts store in the next town. He and Mavis could finally afford their own place. When it came time for them to move out, Travis insisted that I move in with them to help take care of the baby. But in truth, I was only there to take care of Travis’s big cock—a job I readily accepted.

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

“Yeah,” I affirmed, unrolling a wad of toilet paper and wiping up my cummy hole with it. “You dumped like a gallon of cum in me today.”

“Oh my god—NO—I meant to send that to Tanner,” I cringed. “Jesus Christ—I’m so fucking embarrassed. Please delete it. Just—just pretend you never saw it.”

“I can’t pretend that I didn’t see a photo of my stepson with a big cock up his ass,” Greg shook his head, as if trying to rid the pornographic image burned onto his retinas. “I didn’t see his face in the photo all that well, but I take it the big cock belongs to Tanner.”

“Yeah,” I cringed. “We were just fucking around last night.”

“Well—that’s certainly apparent,” Mark laughed awkwardly. “So, I guess that means you’re—what—gay?”

“Maybe, I mean—I don’t know” I confessed, embarrassed that the issue of my sexuality was still confusing to me when I was almost twenty years old. “It’s complicated.”

“Does your mother know?” Greg asked.

“Oh—Jesus,” I gasped. “Please don’t tell her. I really wasn’t—I’m really not ready to discuss this with Mom.”

“I get you,” Greg nodded. “Your secret is safe with me. I went through a little phase like this when I was your age.”

“Wait—you did?” my jaw dropped. “You let guys fuck you?”

“No—no, you misunderstood me,” Greg shook his head. “I used to fuck guys—when I was young and not getting much pussy yet.”

But before I could react, two old dudes entered the locker room talking loudly, giving each other shit after a contentious game of racketball.

“Let’s take this into the sauna,” Greg suggested. “It’s quiet in there, and we can talk more freely.”

“So—you used to fuck guys?” I tried to get us back on track as Greg and I took a seat on a bench in the sauna, grateful that we were alone.

“Well, it was more so one particular guy that I fucked back then,” Greg admitted.

“Was he a buddy?”

“Umm—not really. I’m ashamed to admit I never even knew the dude’s name. He was just a guy who showed up at my fraternity house a lot for—you know—some cock.”

“You mean like a cum dump—a random dude you just fucked, no strings?”

“Jesus—a cum dump? Is that really a thing?” Greg queried as I nodded affirmatively. “Then, yeah, he was a cum dump. All of us fucked him, but he liked it. He was really good at taking cock.”

“Did you fuck him often?”

“Yeah,” Greg laughed. “Whenever I wasn’t getting pussy, which was—I’m embarrassed to admit—quite often.”

“And—and did you like fucking him—this cum dump.”

“Christ,” Greg ran his hand through his hair. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time but—yeah—I loved fucking him. His hole was super tight, better than pussy.”

Greg’s hand then went to his crotch, trying to conceal the fact that he was hard, his big cock straining against the flimsy fabric of his athletic shorts. Clearly, he was still turned on by the thought of fucking a dude.

But would Greg be turned on by the thought of fucking me? There was only one way to find out.

“So—I have a question,” I began.

“Yeah?”

“If that cum dump from your fraternity days walked into this sauna right now, and bent over the bench for you—would you fuck him?”

“Christ,” he whistled. “I mean, I’d have your mother to consider. I’m a married man now.”

“Leave Mom out of the equation,” I insisted.

“Well—I guess in that case—yeah, I would fuck the cum dump again,” he conceded, his hard cock nearly busting through his shorts at the thought.

“Close your eyes,” I beseeched.

“What—why?”

“Just do it,” I insisted softly. “Please.”

“Okay,” he complied, taking a deep breath as his eyes closed, his meaty hands resting near his crotch.

Quickly, I dropped the back of my shorts and bent over the sauna bench directly opposite us. It was a crazy idea, I knew. Greg could yell at me, tell me to fuck off. Or someone could barge in on us—a major risk.

“You can open your eyes now,” I directed, my chest resting on the warm bench, my ass presented for his use.

“The fuck?!” Greg gasped. Here it comes, I thought. He’s going to be pissed. He’s going to yank up my pants and pull me by the arm to our lockers, lecturing me for having the balls to proposition my own stepdad.

But nothing happened. Greg was silent. I took a deep breath and waited. And then I felt it—Greg’s thick finger softly exploring the puckered folds of my cunt.

“Christ, that’s beautiful,” he whispered, his finger breaching my sphincter. “And so fucking tight.”

He then suddenly withdrew. I turned back my face to witness Greg dropping his shorts, his big cock hard with a glistening drop of precum at the tip.

His hands went to either side of my ass, spreading my cheeks, opening my hole. Greg spat upon it, his phlegm wetting my sphincter. I felt it then—the rounded tip of his cock, my hole instinctively opening for it. And then—WHAM—Greg was inside me.

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled, delivering slow strokes. “I forgot how fuckin’ good ass feels.”

“You’re hung like fuck,” I winced, gripping the sauna bench, my hole torn apart.

“Isn’t that what you like?” he slapped my ass while thrusting deep. “A big dick up your ass?”

“Fuck yes,” I agreed. “I just need a moment to adjust. You’ve got a hole splitter.”

But Greg wasn’t going to give me that moment. Instantly, he began to pummel my hole, his cock routing my depths. The initial pain began to give way to intense pleasure, his big dick pounding me savagely.

“Fuck yeah, bitch,” he barked in the same voice he uses when screaming at the TV during football games when a referee makes a bad call. “Take this big fuckin’ dick.”

My mild-mannered stepdad had suddenly morphed into an alpha male, exerting his dominance over me. He had once again become that oversexed frat boy who just needed to pound a load into a submissive cum dump—and I was that cum dump.

“Shit, you’ve gotta sweet cunt,” he slapped my ass, raising himself onto the balls of his feet, plunging deeper into my fuck canal. “That’s it—open that pussy for me.”

I couldn’t believe his aggression, the brutal way in which Greg was fucking me. Don’t get me wrong, I was fucking loving it. But I couldn’t help wondering if he fucked my mom this way, pounding her pussy like he owned it? Somehow, I doubted it.

“You want my cum?” he quickly demanded, drawing me back from my thoughts, his pace quickening. “You want me to shoot my hot load up your ass?”

“Yes,” I begged, his body smashing into me over and over. “Fucking breed me.”

“Here it comes,” he growled, his cock swelling inside me, my sphincter gripping him. “FUCK—DAMN.”

His body quaked, a violent thrust, slamming my head against the sauna wall as his cock exploded inside me. Greg grunted as each throb of his cock ejected shot after shot of his sticky seed into my guts. A warmth emanated from deep in my bowels, his load swimming in me.

“Christ, that was good,” Greg exhaled, pulling out of me before collapsing upon the opposite sauna bench. “You’ve got a cunt made for cock.”

And then he was the mild-mannered version of himself again, the frat boy fuck machine locked back inside him. Jekyll and Hyde.

“We better get out of here,” Greg advised, looking around the sauna as he stuffed his wet cock back into his shorts. “And you need to clean up,” he laughed, eyeing my sloppy hole, his pearly load dripping from my gaping cunt. “Looks like I made a mess of you.”

We each hit the showers. Dressing afterward at our lockers, Greg gave me a furtive wink. A new bond had been forged between us. I had always loved him as a stepdad, but there was now a deeper connection between us. I couldn’t wait to explore this new path in our relationship—eagerly wanting his big cock in me again.

“We can’t ever do this again,” Greg announced as we left the gym and walked out to his car, his load still escaping my wrecked hole, squishing between my ass cheeks.

“But why?” I asked, crestfallen, my dream of being Greg’s new cum dump fading before me. “Didn’t you like fucking my ass?

“Yes—I loved fucking your ass, you silly boy,” Greg laughed. “I just meant that we can’t fuck in the sauna again. It’s too risky. But I plan on emptying my balls in you at home every night—after your mother goes to bed, of course.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.