This is a tale of Black Domination and white submission.
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All in the Family,
by Skorpio
PART ONE
When Seth Gurspan came home from college to spend the holidays, the last thing he expected was finding his father living with another man. A black man, no less!
It was bad enough his father was a fag. Seth had known the truth for over a year. It was the reason his folks got divorced.
But bringing a nigger into the house where Seth grew up was almost too much to endure. Was nothing sacred?
The gay boyfriend was not at all what Seth expected. He was about Seth's age, decisively masculine, and polite.
"Your dad talks about you all the time," said Q, shaking Seth's hand with a strong grip. His voice bore a faint Caribbean accent.
Q was dark-skinned, good-looking, with a striking Mohawk, dazzling smile, and a diamond in one ear. He was tall and slim-waisted with impressive shoulders and biceps.
"Wish I could say the same," Seth replied coolly. "So, how did you two meet?"
The young black man gave his older partner a nod as if cueing him to speak.
"We met online," Seth's father explained. "Uh, one of those dating services... you know? One thing led to another and, well, here we are."
Noah Gurspan was a thin fellow in his late forties, beady-eyed, with a nose like a beak. Nothing at all like his son who was blue-eyed, snub-nosed, built like an athlete.
"I'm glad you're happy," Seth lied through his teeth. He could not wait for the holidays to be over.
Later, when he retired for the night, the young man tried not to think about his father's shameful lifestyle.
He was back in his old bedroom comforted by mementoes from childhood, pennants and pinups on the walls, comic book collection stored in long, white boxes.
In the wee hours, Seth was awakened by sounds coming from down the hall. Slipping on a robe, he tip-toed to investigate.
The door to his father's room stood ajar. A light was on.
Peeking cautiously, Seth spied his father on his knees before Q. He could not believe his eyes.
Both men were naked, except that Noah wore what looked like a leather dog collar around his throat.
Q towered over the queer, arms akimbo. Black tattoos embellished his broad chest and powerful arms like graffiti.
"Get it hard!" growled Q. "Do your job, bitch!"
On that command, Noah leaned forward. Q grunted as the old man began to suck.
Noah's bobbing head blocked Seth's view of the black man's groin, and for some reason that disappointed the college boy.
Seth looked on in disgust mixed with fascination.
Sounds of slurping were met with harsh words and cruel laughter: "Suck that dick! Suck it good! That's your food, bitch! Take it all the way down your throat! Choke on it!"
The blowjob seemed to last for an eternity.
Q grabbed the old man's head with both hands, and began to thrust, fucking his face with increasing tempo, faster and harder.
"Ohhhh, shittttt! I'm gonna nutt!" said Q, breathing hard.
It was over.
"Good bitch!" said Q. "That's what I'm talking about! Now, get me my money before I beat your scrawny ass!"
That was all Seth could handle. Creeping back to his room, he tossed and turned before drifting off to sleep, troubled by disturbing dreams.
The next morning, Noah insisted on making breakfast for the two men in his life. Scrambled eggs for Q, over easy for Seth, sausages, home fries, buttered toast, orange juice, coffee. Noah did not sit down with them.
"I'll get something on the way," said Noah, halfway out the door to work.
For a long while, Seth and Q sat across from one another at the table, saying nothing.
Seth had on sweatpants and a wifebeater. Q sported plaid boxers. The tension between them was palpable.
"There's something I want to ask you now that we are alone," said Seth, breaking the silence.
"What's on your mind?"
"Are you really gay?"
"What kind of question is that? I know you heard us last night making love."
"That's not what I call making love," Seth countered.
"Maybe not," Q chuckled. "What would you call it?"
"I don't know. I know my dad's a fag. I just don't think you are."
"You don't like fags much, do you."
"Do you?"
"Nah, not really."
"So what does that make you?"
"You really wanna know? I use fags. That's how I get by."
"Gay for pay?"
"I wouldn't put it like that, but you get the picture."
"Doesn't that make you gay too?"
"I can tell you've never gotten a blowjob."
"Why do you say that?"
"Have you?"
"I haven't. What does that got to do with anything?"
"Don't tell me you're a virgin?"
"Not hardly..."
"But only nice girls, right? The kind that won't give head, because they think it's nasty?"
"Something like that."
"See, if a chick had gone down on you, then you would know... a blowjob isn't sex. It's like she's doing you a favor. If a chick gave you a handjob, would you say you had sex with her? It's the same with a blowjob."
"I suppose..."
"Fags suck dick. That's what they do. It's all part of God's plan. Otherwise, why would they even exist?"
"I never thought about it like that," Seth admitted.
"You should give it a try it some time. Pops sucks like a champ! And he likes it rough!"
"Ehhh," Seth grimaced "I don't think so. Not with my own father, anyway.
"What if told you he's not?"
"Not what?"
"Not your real father."
"What are you saying?"
"It's true. He ain't your dad."
"How do you know that?"
"I know a lot of things... Like the fact your mom was knocked up when she got married, for instance. Like the fact your so-called father ain't never fucked her, not once... she only stayed until you were grown..."
"I think that I always suspected..."
"Now, you know."
"That explains a few things," said Seth. "Now it all makes hideous sense!"
"Like what?"
"I trusted him. A son is supposed to trust his father, isn't he? I never suspected what he was up to..."
"What did that pervert do? Did he molest you?"
"Not exactly... but he did things that didn't feel right..." Suppressed memories rushed to the surface. "I blocked them out because of how uncomfortable they made me feel..."
"That faggot's gonna pay!"
"There's stuff I've never told anyone! I don't know why I'm telling you."
"I'm the only person you can tell," said Q, reaching for a bottle of Old Grand Dad from the baker's rack. He poured them both a shot.
"I needed that," Seth admitted, knocking it back. "Hit me again."
The bourbon warmed Seth into letting down his guard. Despite everything, he was beginning to trust this guy.
Q seemed to listen attentively as Seth related the dubious situations he endured at his so-called father's behest.
When Seth turned twelve, Noah took snapshots of him naked, explaining it was for medical records. This was repeated every year thereafter until Seth went away to college.
Every phase of the lad's maturation was documented on film: testes descending, penis enlarging, hair growth on his chest, legs, crotch, and under his arms.
There was the time Seth needed an athletic supporter for soccer tryouts. Noah bought three jockstraps in small, medium, and large, making Seth model one at a time to determine what size was best.
But that was not the worst of it. Noah believed in corporal punishment. Whenever Seth brought home unsatisfactory grades or got into trouble at school, he was put over Noah's knee and given a severe spanking.
The last time Seth got spanked was for flunking algebra. He was a senior in high school, seventeen years old. It was more humiliating than painful. "I've never forgiven him for that!" Seth confessed. "I was practically a grown man for Christ's sake! How could I have been so stupid?"
"Don't beat yourself up. You didn't know. Like you said, a son is supposed to trust his father..."
"That's just it! He's not my father... he's a fag, a fucking filthy fag, and he's been messing with me my whole life..."
Seth clenched his fists in anger.
"I give you props! When I heard you was coming home for the holidays, I figured you for a cocksucker like your old man. No offense!"
"None taken," said Seth.
"I like you, man," said Q. "That's why I'm gonna give you a break."
"What kind of break are you talking about?"
"I'm only in this for the money. Little by little, I'm taking over your dad's assets. Can't do it all at once or people might get suspicious."
"Take it all," Seth shrugged.
"That's the plan."
"He's a cheap son of a bitch. Always complaining about how expensive things are. He probably doesn't have all that much."
"You'd be surprised. He's got all kinds of capital stashed away. Did you know he set up a trust fund for when you turn twenty-one?"
"I didn't...."
"Yeah, he did. Because your mom insisted. I ain't gonna mess with that. Or your tuition. I might be greedy, but I ain't selfish. I only want what's mine!"
"Thanks, I appreciate that."
"No problem, dude. There's more than one way to bleed a faggot dry."
"Not enough. I want to see him squirm."
"That can be arranged," said Q with a conspiratorial smile. His dark eyes gleamed like polished stones.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Listen up..."
PART TWO
At six o'clock, Noah Gurspan returned and proceeded to prepare dinner. While he stood at the stove, Q came up from behind and buckled a collar around his neck.
"What are you doing?" Noah whispered. "My son will see."
"Did I tell you to speak?" Q snapped. "When I want you to open your mouth, I'll drop my pants."
"But, Sir..."
Q's rough hands reached under Noah's light blue dress shirt and grabbed hold of the old man's swollen, tender nipples.
The old faggot groaned.
Whenever Q wanted something all he had to do was work the faggot's tits like knobs on a radio.
"Me and Seth had a good long talk," chuckled Q, making the faggot weak in the knees with a final wrench for good measure.
"You d-did?"
"Turns out he's not a pussy like you. He's a man."
"Yesss," hissed the old reprobate.
"Let me hear you say it so I know you understand."
"He's not a pussy like me. He's a man."
"That means you give him the proper respect until I say otherwise."
"Yes, Sir!"
"Good bitch," Q smirked, slapping Noah's face playfully. "Now, back to work! Put some grub on the table. Your men-folk are hungry. Later on, we're gonna have some fun."
Dinner was served: pork chops smothered with gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and apple sauce. A bottle of Merlot. Seth and Q dined while Noah waited on them hand and foot.
"I'd invite your old man to join us, but he don't eat pork," remarked Q.
"That's not what I saw last night," Seth quipped, enjoying the spectacle.
"That wasn't no pork," Q laughed. "That was tube-steak! Black Angus!"
Seth laughed too.
Seeing his step-father function like a domestic was more than amusing. It felt right.
But this was only the beginning.
While Noah cleaned up, the men convened in the living room. Q offered Seth a snifter of brandy.
"To revenge," Q toasted.
Seth lifted his glass.
"Still wanna go through with this?" asked Q.
"More than ever!"
"Come with me. I want to show you something."
Q led Seth to the master bedroom where he lifted the lid of an old trunk containing studded leather harnesses and cod pieces, belts and riding crops, shackles, dildos, alligator clamps, and masks.
"Is any of this necessary?" asked Seth, raising a brow.
"Nope," Q laughed. "Makes it fun, though."
Minutes later, both men were attired like gladiators with leather straps across their chests and leather jockstraps cupping their privates.
"I feel ridiculous," said Seth, catching himself in the full length mirror.
"I know, right?"
"I look like something out of Conan the Barbarian."
"Comes with the gig. You gotta get inside a faggot's mind. Make it easier to control."
"If you say so."
"Did I mention it's kind of fun?"
"I think you did."
"You ready?"
"Let's do it."
"Bitch, get in here!" hollered Q.
Noah scurried into the room, coming to a halt when he beheld Q and Seth in their S&M regalia. His beady eyes bulged with astonishment.
"Get naked and on your knees!" Q commanded.
The faggot stripped off his clothes, and fell to the floor. Naked save for the collar around his throat.
"I can take it from here," said Seth, brandishing a cat-o-nine tails, towering over his stepfather whose face was pressed to carpet.
"Party on," encouraged Q, sitting on the edge of the bed. "This should be good!"
"All my life you've been perving on me, haven't you, fag! Taking pictures of me naked. Measuring my cock! Did you think you could get away with that?"
When the old man did not reply, Seth cracked the whip.
"I asked a question! Do you think you should go unpunished?"
"Speak up," prompted Q. "Do you wanna be punished?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Don't tell me. Tell him!"
"I'm sorry," said Noah, looking up at his son. "I deserve to be punished, Sir."
"Oh, you're gonna be," Seth vowed. "I've been waiting for this moment my entire life! Stand up and face the wall. Hands behind your head! Do it!"
Whack! Whack! Whack!!!
Three strokes from the cat-o-nine tails left stripes on the old man's bony back and sagging buttocks. Unable to bear the stinging pain, Noah crumpled to his knees.
"That's just for starters," said Seth. "I want to see you suffer! Q, got any ideas?"
"This is your party, man," said Q. "Why don't you make him blow you. That's what he does best."
"You would like that, wouldn't you," Seth addressed his father. "You want to suck my cock, don't you! You're a goddamn pervert! Admit it!"
"I am a pervert, Sir," Noah groveled.
"You're scum!" spat Seth, reddening with rage. "To think that I used to be afraid of you! When you made me pull down my pants and lay across your lap for a spanking, did that excite you? I was seventeen! You had no right!"
A feeling of light-headedness came over Seth. As if through a mist before his eyes, he saw his wretched father cringing, naked, collared, more beast than man.
"This might be a good time to make him suck your dick," suggested Q.
"I don't think so," said Seth. "He's not touching me. He makes me sick!"
"Well, if you're not gonna get your dick sucked, let me you show you what pops is good for."
Laughing, Q stood, and pulled aside his leather codpiece. Released from confinement, the black, rubbery cock sprang out, growing thicker and longer by the second.
Seth had never held the slightest interest in any penis other than his own, but what rose from between the black man's thighs was awesome to behold.
It had to be nine inches, at least, and thick, more like a battering ram more than a pleasure wand. His testicles dangling in a satin sack had to be the size of plums.
"Everything okay, bro?" Q arched a brow. "You look like you never seen a dick before."
"What? No, I'm cool," said Seth.
"Don't worry about it," Q chuckled. "I get that look from white chicks all the time."
"You could hurt someone with that thing, man."
The college boy tried to keep up the locker room repartee, but he was feeling woozy again.
Worse, he was suddenly getting a hard-on.
"That's the whole idea," Q grinned from ear to ear.
"This is all too fucking weird. I need to sit down."
"Heh-heh," snickered Q. "You do that. I'm gettin my dick sucked!"
Seth stumbled over to the bed. His limbs felt heavy and inert. There was nothing erotic about this at all. Yet his cock was hard.
"C'mon, pops!" said Q. "Show junior what you can do."
Dazed, Seth looked on as Noah wrapped his lips around the huge helmet head.
Inch by inch, the long black shaft disappeared into the old man's mouth.
"Unnnhhhh," groaned Q, feeling it. "Oh, shit!!!! Get it all the way down your throat, bitch! Suck that dick!"
"That's -- that's so... nasty," said Seth, finding it hard to focus.
"It is what it is," Q shrugged. "Your old man is a natural. Are you sure you don't want a blowjob?"
"I think... I'm gonna pass on that."
"I'm tellin' you, it's good!"
"No- I don't think so..."
"I'm starting to wonder about you."
"What? No... I've changed my mind."
"Maybe you're more like your father than I thought."
"He- he's not my father."
"But you let him do all those things to you."
"I told you... he made me..."
"I'm thinking maybe you liked it," Q taunted. "Maybe you got off on that shit. Sure you're not a fag?"
"I'm n-not...," Seth stammered weakly. "I'm not a fag."
"Whatever. Let me know if you want to take his place. Got enough dick here for both y'all."
"What? No..."
It was hard for Seth to think.
The room was spinning.
Said Q to Noah: "You can stop, bitch. I think Junior is about ready. Get the camera!"
That was the last thing Seth heard before blacking out.
PART THREE
The brandy Q poured for Seth was spiked with powder made from jimson weed and mandrake root, a mixture handed down to him by his late grandfather, a voodoo priest in Martinique.
Undiluted, it could turn men into mindless, obedient zombies, but Seth was given just enough to render him helpless and submissive.
Over the next few days he was kept drugged, only dimly aware of what was happening. He glimpsed vague shapes standing over him and heard voices, laughter, music.
At times it was like being in an erotic dream, feeling his flesh caressed and stroked, poked and prodded.
PART FOUR
Seth opened his eyes.
He was kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, completely aware of his surroundings, but unable to move.
And he was naked.
Standing over him was his father and Q, fully dressed. He could hear them talking, but nothing they said made sense. Why couldn't he move or speak? What had they done to him?
"Welcome back," said Q. "How are you feeling?"
When Seth did not, could not, answer, Q went on:
"Oh, that's right. I haven't given you permission to speak yet, have I. Just as well. I don't want to hear anything you have to say, but I've got a lot to tell you. So, listen up! You are under my power. You will do whatever I tell you to do without question. You no longer have any will of your own. You belong to me now. I can tell by the defiant look in your eyes that you don't believe me. I would think your present condition is proof enough, but if you still need convincing, that can be arranged. Open your mouth. Open it wide."
Seth's jaw dropped and he could not help himself.
"Your old man has something for you," said Q. "Ready, pops? Baby boy needs his pacifier."
Noah Gurspan unzipped his trousers and pulled out his stiff, circumcised, needle-cock, and inserted it between the young man's lips.
"Tastes good, doesn't it, son," cackled the old man.
"Suck your daddy's cock, boy!" ordered Q.
Like a robot, Seth went into action. He did not want to do this, anything but this, but he could not stop. The more he sucked, the more he grew to like it.
"That's enough," said Q, after a few minutes. "You can close your mouth now, slave."
The old man was sent out of the room.
"See how easy that was?" Q pulled up a chair. "Like I said, under my power! You're wondering why I'm doing this. The answer is simple. You got in my way. If you were clever, you might have seen this coming. But you're really not that smart, are you... In fact, you are nothing but a dumb jock. Isn't that right? All brawn and no brain. You're getting dumber and dumber by the second."
Under Q's commands, the college boy's IQ began to drop, point by point. It grew hard for him to think. He could not remember why he was angry.
"This is how it's gonna be," said Q. "You won't be going back to college. You are a big dumb jock living at home with your father and his best friend. You're going to get a job at Burger King and give me your paycheck every week. It's not much, but you're too stupid for much else. All you want out of life is menial labor and total dedication to me. If anyone asks why you dropped out of college, you will tell them it was just too hard. You couldn't cut it. When you're not flipping burgers or mopping floors, you will spend your time at home lifting weights. As you build muscle, your brain will get weaker and weaker. So, tell me, Seth. Tell your Master what a dumb jock you are. I give you permission to speak."
"I'm just a dumb jock, Master," Seth intoned.
"And you're a faggot, did you know that?"
"Uh, no, I didn't know."
"You are. You love dick, but only black dick. In fact, only MY black dick. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"What are you?"
"I'm a faggot."
"What do you love?"
"Your black cock."
"Sometimes pops will want you to suck his dick, but you will only do that when I say it's okay. He is not your master. He is just a bitch like you!"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good boy."
From that day forward, father and son lived to serve and service their imperious master. Punishment was no longer needed as both were permanently under the young black man's absolute power.
THE END