Gay Erotic Stories

In March of 1996 my life changed. I returned home from a military assignment in Europe. I had my share of sexual encounters with men. I really had gotten into SM and I loved to submit to strong men. The military is perfect therefore, because you learn to submit, to forget your own will, to give yourself totally into the hands of your superior. The last years had taught me to understand my mother. Mother, who passed away shortly after I had turned 18, was the servant of my father. Father treated her like dirt, using and abusing her. I didn't hear what they did behind closed doors, but I saw mother running around half naked, wearing a collar, sometimes having dark red lines on her body that looked like whipping marks. At that time, I didn't understand why mother disappeared into the bathroom when father said "I have to take a leak". I didn't understand why she ran into the bedroom when he said "Mouth" or "Throat" and pointed towards her face. Now I do! But let me tell my story... When I returned from Europe Dad had changed. He was dressed in heavy leather. Men and women came and left. At night I heard their screams, heard father’s shouting commands. I imagined him with his heavy boots, his hairy chest, arms and legs, his huge hands, his short hair and beard, a whip in his hand, his cock erected and pointed towards their mouths, cunts or assholes. I dreamed of wide-open holes, penetrated by his big tool. And I masturbated night after night. Until one day I couldn’t stand it anymore. When Dad came home I frankly asked him if he knew that I was gay. His facial expression changed to surprised. "Sure", he said. "There is more, Daddy", I replied equally surprised. "And you are one of these cock sucking faggots, who dream every night of a treatment by a real man, huh?" I must admit that I was shocked. I hadn’t expected these words from my own dad. "Ye.., ye.., yes, dad", I stuttered. "And you dream of your father’s stiff tool every night, right son?" My mouth dropped open. "Dad, I am dreaming of you since I was a little boy. I wanted to take mom’s place after she died, but I didn’t dare. Please, Dad, let me be your servant, you slave, fuck me, use me, abuse me, do with me what you do to these other guys." With these words I dropped down to my knees, my eyes were fixated on father’s bulge and my mouth was wide open. "Son, I must warn you: Sometimes I am a brutal master and I am very demanding. You will serve me at any time, in any capacity I chose. Fucking is not all. I beat disobeying slaves, I use their mouths as a piss pot, I expect total service, always, anywhere. Are you ready for it?" All my dreams came true at that time. "YEEEEEEESSSSS, Daddy, yes, I want to be your fuck meat, I want to drink your semen, your piss, lick your ass and your feet, I want to be your slave, sir!" I hadn’t quite finished my sentence, when his huge hand hit my face real hard. "You don’t want anything, son, I will tell you what you want. Is that clear?" I nodded. "Yes Sir!!!" I was in heaven. My father’s slave! My dream came true. "Now let’s see, how good you are, son. When I say Mouth you will drop to the floor, put your head into your neck and open your fucking mouth. Then you await my action. Is that understood?" "Yes Dad, Sir" My head was bent back and my mouth open. I saw his face above mine. "Good boy", he said and the he spit into my face. "Damn cocksucker," he spit again, "When I feel your teeth on my dick you will feel my fist and soon there will be no teeth anymore. Clear, boy?" Before I could answer I felt his cock pushing deep into my throat. My own father was stuck in my throat, fucking it as if he was fucking a cunt or an asshole. He penetrated me so deeply that I couldn’t breath anymore. But dad kept fucking, pushing deeper, his balls resting on my chin and his pubic hair around my nose. Suddenly his bulky hairy body stiffened and my father started to shoot his semen into my throat. He pulled out of me and smeared the rest of his cum onto my face. The semen that produced me dripped from my lower lip. I went back to the origin, meeting finally my life’s destination: Being Daddy’s slave. Daddy has used me ever since. Now, twenty years after this day, I am 42 and dad is 62. He still shoots his semen into my throat, when he returns from work. I am happy, and I could not imagine a life without my Dad.