Becoming Daddys Bitch

By Paul Vanden boogard

Published on Jun 13, 2021

Gay

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Becoming Daddy's Bitch -- Chapter 4

It was just after four o'clock when I finally finished cleaning the house. The only rooms I hadn't cleaned were my mom's private office, which I wasn't allowed into anyway, and my bedroom. Exhausted, I flopped down on my bed and started paying a video game, trying not to think about all that had happened. I wondered if my dad would even want to have sex with me anymore after he'd said what he did about my cock being worthless, but as I thought about it, he didn't seem very interested in my cock anyway. He had only fondled it and stroked it a few times, and was far more interested in fucking me. It kind of made sense, because I didn't think that my dad was gay, but if he wasn't, then I didn't know why he liked to fuck me.

I couldn't help getting hard thinking about my dad fucking me, but when I looked down at my dick I almost started to cry again. It did look tiny and worthless, especially compared to his massive dick. Upset with myself, I turned off the video game and curled up into a ball, wishing my body wasn't so tiny and pathetic. I was just starting to drift off to sleep when my bedroom door banged open.

"What are you doing?" my dad demanded.

I hugged myself tighter.

"I was just resting. Sir."

"I thought I told you I wanted this entire house clean."

It was, wasn't it? I had cleaned the whole house.

"Is this room clean?"

I shook my head. "No, Sir."

He took two steps toward me and started undoing his belt.

"No, please, Sir. I'll clean it. I'll clean it right now, Sir!"

"You bet your little ass you'll clean it. And from now on, there'll be no more video games, no more TV, no more listening to music and laying around doing nothing. Now go get a box from the garage and pack all this shit into it," he indicated the TV and the video console and my Ipad and headphones. "Then you'll be making my supper, and you'll be cleaning your room afterward."

I did as I was told, setting the heavy box on the kitchen table in front of him. Glancing inside of it, he started instructing me on cooking our meal, then picked up the box and carried it out to the dumpster by the shed, and I watched him out of the kitchen window as he threw it inside. Unable to stop myself, I started bawling.

In less than a day, my entire life had been turned upside down. I wasn't going to be going to school anymore, and my dad wasn't letting me wear any clothes, and now he was taking my stuff and throwing it away. I knew that I shouldn't have failed my classes, but I didn't think I had done anything that was that wrong.

"That's right. Cry like a little girl. You might as well, because you're never going to be a man anyway."

I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't, and he yelled at me again to start his supper. Sniffing and sobbing, I peeled the potatoes and started them boiling, then took out the dishes to set the table, my dad sitting at the table and watching me all the while. As I started to put the salads together, I heard his voice behind me.

"Good morning, love. Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

There was a bit of a pause, then he spoke again.

"Everything here is just fine."

I could hear a chuckle in my dad's voice, which almost made my tears start up again.

"I've got a good start. I'll send you a synopsis later, and keep you posted as things progress."

I set the salads on the table and checked the potatoes, then turned on the griddle for the ham steak.

"Friday?"

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, no, that's plenty of time. I'll have the foundation laid by then, and you and I can work on the finishing touches together."

I had no idea what my mom and dad were talking about, but it was obvious that my mom would be home by the end of the week.

"Yes, I'll see that's it's taken care of."

"Yes, I love you too. Talk again soon."

He didn't speak again until he pushed his plate away in front of him.

"All of this first, then do your room."

I stared at my plate, waiting for him to say more.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, Sir."

"When I tell you something, you always respond to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

It was after nine o'clock before I finished, my dad stepping in every fifteen minutes or so the check up on me, reminding me to wipe down the window sill and the door frame and the baseboards, and not to forget to clean under the bed, and I remembered to respond with "Yes, Sir" each time. I was on my hands and knees dusting the baseboards when he stepped up behind me and slid his finger into my asshole. I grunted, surprised, and almost fell face first into the corner. Pushing my head to the floor, he drew his fingers in and out several times.

"I'm going to have to teach you how to clean that for me."

Then he was gone, and I blushed in embarrassment. He had just stuck his fingers up my ass like he had every right to, then simply walked away. I didn't understand what was going on, or why he was treating me the way he was, saying that my cock was pathetic and telling me that I was never going to be a man, then just sticking his finger up inside me whether I wanted him to or not.

I had liked it, though, however unexpected it was. And I liked it when he fucked me.

I could feel my cock getting hard between my legs, and I frowned when I looked down on it, thinking again that it was tiny and pathetic. I was just finishing up when my dad stepped into the room, walking around it and inspecting it as he went. He even got on his knees and checked under the bed. Then opened my closet and my dresser drawers, reaching in to fumble around with the things inside.

"These fucking drawers are a mess. And so is your closet. It's pretty obvious that you have no respect for the clothes that you were given."

He slammed the drawer shut.

"Ah, well, we'll take care of that tomorrow. Now brush your teeth and go to bed."

He woke me up at six the next morning, and the first thing he did was show me how to brew a pot of coffee. He also showed me how to set the timer on it, and told me that from then on I was to set it up the night before so it would be ready for him in the morning. Then I was taught how to fry bacon and make him sunny side up eggs, and told to set out the butter and the jam for his toast, and once he started eating, I was allowed to make myself two scrambled eggs, but I was only allowed one slice of toast.

"Can I have some bacon?"

He paused for just a few moments, then answered.

"Yes. And you've just earned five strikes of my belt across your ass for forgetting to say `Sir.'"

I ducked my head and pulled my arms across my chest.

"And you'll get another five if you don't answer real quick!"

"Yes, Sir," I blurted out.

I had to clean the kitchen and do the dishes again, then I was led to my bedroom and told to stand at the foot of the bed. Digging in my drawers, he pulled out a few clothes and threw them on the bed next to me.

"Put them on."

I hadn't taken my socks off from the day before, so I grabbed the sweatpants and pulled them on over them. It was one of my old pair of sweatpants that was too small for me, but I didn't argue. They were hard to pull around my waist, and they rode up the crack of my ass and were really tight in the crotch, the cuffs coming up well above my ankles. Glancing up briefly at him, I picked up the crew neck sweatshirt and pulled that on, too. Opening my closet, he took out my oldest pair of sneakers and threw them at my feet.

"Those, too."

I could tell they were falling apart as I put them on, but I was a just happy to have shoes on my feet.

When we go to the door leading out to the garage, he gave me a light jacket to put on, the brought me outside. Handing me a pair of gloves, he told me to go wait for him by the back of the shed.

For some reason I thought he was going to whip me with his belt behind the shed, and my whole body tensed, but I hurried out through the door and down the path. A moment later he came around the house with the truck and backed it up to the side of the shed and brought me around the back.

"I want all twenty-four of these cinderblocks loaded in the truck. One layer, and start in front under the rear window."

There was no question about my obeying, so I picked up the first cinderblock as he strolled back to the house. It was cold outside, almost winter, and the wind whipped around my exposed ankles, but by the time I was finished, I had forgotten all about the cold. My dad hadn't come back yet, and I didn't know if I should wait for him, but once I started getting cold again, I went back to the house.

"Finished?"

"Yes, sir."

"Strip everything off and bring it into the laundry. I want all of your clothes washed, dried and folded."

"Yes, sir."

I undressed right there, setting my tennis under the folding table as I picked the rest of my clothes out of the baskets. I was told that everything was to go into one load, my dad leaning against the door frame with his phone until the load was started. My parents had never allowed me to have a phone, though everybody I knew at school had one. Once it was started, he had me follow him into the living room. Kicking off his shoes, he dropped his pants and underwear and pulled them off, then sat down in his recliner.

"Come kneel here between my legs. I want my balls licked."

It was so unexpected, I froze.

"Now!" he commanded.

Shaking like crazy, I crawled between his legs, pushing my face into his crotch so I could start to lick his balls. Sighing, be pushed his chair back and spread his legs a little wider.

My cock was rock hard between my legs.

Within moments, I forgot about everything that was happening. The smell of his crotch was enticing, and the feel of my lips and my tongue on his soft, warm, hairy sac was euphoric. I licked and I sucked, my eyes wandering up to gaze at his thick, beautiful cock. So wished that my cock was like his, but I knew it was just a tiny thing poking out from between my legs. I wanted to suck his cock, and I wanted him to fuck me.

Was several minutes before I got my wish, my face and his balls now thoroughly soaked with my spit as I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. As I had been told to do before, I licked at the head with my tongue and massaged it with my lips before taking in some of his cock, returning to toy with the head a little more before pushing myself down on it further. The shape of his cock was incredible, and I loved to feel it sliding into my mouth and through my lips and over my tongue. I was able to get a full half of his cock into my mouth, now, and after I had sucked a while, he started pushing my head down on it further until two or three times I had gagged on it. Then, suddenly, he pushed me off.

"The washers done. Go move the load to the dryer, then I want your mouth back down on my cock."

I was so aroused that my thoughts were all fuzzy, and I almost forgot to say `Yes, Sir," as I hurried to move the load, my cock hard and swinging back and forth in front of me. I thought I saw a drop of pre-cum go flying off the tip of it, thought at the time I didn't know what it was. I tried to hurry, wanting nothing more than to get my lips wrapped back around his cock.

He had started to go soft by the time I got there. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me as I got back down between his knees. Opening my mouth, I pushed myself into his crotch until I had his whole cock in my mouth, burying my nose in the thick bush of his pubic hair. I held it there until I started to choke, then drew back and started sucking his cock as it swelled bigger and bigger.

"Enough," he said about ten minutes later, and I backed away from him to sit on my feet.

"Go get me a cup of coffee."

I found his cup on the table and poured the last of it out of the pot, then brought it into the living room for him.

"Stop. Go put it on a saucer, and then bring it back to me."

I had to think about what a saucer was. My dad never used one, but then I remembered that my mom did, and I knew what he was talking about. When I brought it back, he had me set it on the end table next to him, and turn the cup just so, so that the handle was easy for him to reach.

"Now give me my jeans."

His underwear dropped out as I picked them up. Reaching his hand out, I gave him his jeans.

"Fold those neatly and set them on the stool, then bend over the stool and hold onto it."

I didn't understand why he wanted me to hold onto the stool, so I just followed his directions, realizing suddenly what was going to happen as soon as I heard his belt slip out from the belt loops. Clenching my jaw, I waited for the first strike, shouting out only as he laid the last one across my ass.

"Now go wait in the laundry room until your clothes are done, then fold them."

There was still another twenty minutes on the dryer when I walked into the laundry room. I didn't want to stand there and wait for it, but I didn't know where else I would go or what else I could do. It didn't seem like I was going to be allowed to do anything on my own, and I was afraid that if I did the wrong thing, I'd have his belt across my ass again.

I had liked sucking his cock, but now I just stood there feeling weak and pathetic. I was skinny, and naked, and I was ashamed of my tiny little cock and balls. My dad didn't seem to care about me anymore, and was treating me like he didn't even want me as his son anymore.

And maybe that was it. Maybe I wasn't going to be his son anymore. My mom didn't want me. Maybe my dad didn't want me anymore, either.

I didn't cry. I just couldn't put it all together.

I heard my dad pass me, and when he came back he was carrying a couple of boxes. I didn't know where they came from, because the only rooms down the hall were the bathroom and my bedroom, but he returned a few minutes later to carry two more down the hall and out into the garage. Then the chimer rang, and I pulled the hot clothes from the dryer to fold, glad that I hadn't been told that I had to iron them.

"Leave those there and come in here."

I followed him to the kitchen.

"I have a job to go to. While I'm gone, you're going to empty every one of these cupboards and wipe them out, then put everything back exactly as it belongs. That includes all of the drawers as well."

He was gone for nearly three hours. I had pots and pans scattered all over the floor and my head stuck in the bottom cupboard when he walked in and sat down at the kitchen table to watch me. I was well aware that my naked ass was sticking high into the air, and I half expected him to walk over and stick his finger up it, but he didn't. Glancing dolefully up at him, I finished wiping the cupboard dry, then carefully arranged the pots and pans back into it. Emptying the dirty pail of water, I had no sooner tucked it back in its place under the sink when he told me to "come."

Leading me into the living room, he sat in his recliner, pushing the bottom to raise the footrest.

"Take my shoes off and put them on the mat where they belong."

I tried tugging them off at first, but when I saw his scowl, I quickly went to untie them. Setting them on the mat, I returned to stand in front of him.

"Is that where you were before you got up to put my shoes away?"

"No, sir."

"When I send you to do something, I expect you to return to the exact spot when you're finished."

"Yes, Sir."

I got back onto my knees at me feet, wondering why he was being so strict with everything little I did, but knowing that if I said anything, it would only make matters worse.

"Now rub my feet. Gently, but firmly."

He picked up his phone again and started tapping at it, then set it aside and picked up a shopping bag that he had brought home with him. Pulling out a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers, he dropped them onto the floor next to me.

"Those are what you may wear when your feet get cold."

I looked at them mournfully.

"Yes, sir," I replied despondently.

He leaned back in his chair and started instructing me on how to massage his feet, and I suddenly became very aware that I was naked and being treated like someone of absolutely no importance. He didn't seem to care about what I thought or what I wanted. All I was being allowed to do was what he told me to do. To my embarrassment, my cock started getting hard as I thought about it, and I was glad that his feet were up and he couldn't see it.

It was perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes before he sent me to fetch him his slippers, which I had to put on his feet for him, and I finally resigned myself to wearing the pink slippers he had bought for me. Then I was told to bring him a glass of ice water, after which I was to make us each a ham sandwich and bring his to him along with a handful of potato chips. I, I was told, could eat mine at the kitchen table with a glass of milk.

I took his empty plate and cleaned up the kitchen, then, not knowing what else to do, went back to kneel at his feet.

"That's good. You're learning. I was starting to think you were too stupid to learn anything."

I ducked my head between my shoulders, unable to say anything. Putting the footrest down, he snatched up the shopping bag and rose from his chair.

"Come."

This time he led me to the bathroom, where he had me get down onto my hands and knees. I heard him pull something from the shopping bag, heard the water running in the sink above me, then felt the tip of something hard and cold press against my asshole just before it got pushed up inside.

"Hold still."

I felt my insides expand, and realized he was filling my ass with water.

"Stand up, and don't let it leak."

I clenched my asshole tight and got to my feet, and he pushed me forward until I was standing in the corner, the toilet plunger at my feet. Reaching around in front of me, he rubbed my cock and balls, the fingers of his other hand trailing up and down the crack of my ass.

"You will stay right there until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, sir," I squeaked.

He walked away and left me standing there. I could feel the water leaking out and dripping down my leg, so I squeezed my asshole tighter, my abdomen cramping painfully. I could see the clock on the wall just to my right, and knew it was almost twenty minutes before he returned, and was relieved when he told me to sit on the toilet and empty myself. Thinking the ordeal was finished, I was dismayed when he put me back onto my hands and knees and filled my ass with water again a second time.

I was made to stand in the corner again, but that time it was only for ten minutes before I was told to empty, my dad standing at the sink and watching me the entire time. When I indicated that I was finished, he had me get down on the floor one more time, only this time I didn't have to stand in the corner, and was able to empty myself right away. Bending me over, he wiped my asshole clean with a warm rag, then had me follow him back to the living room.

Reaching into the front hall closet, he pulled out a blanket and told me to spread it out on the floor. Sitting back in his chair, he then told me to lie on my back in front of him.

"Jack off."

It was humiliating being naked and stroking my cock in front of him while he was dressed, and no matter how I stroked it, my cock stayed limp.

"Come on. I want to see that worthless little pecker get hard," he demanded.

I didn't like that he called it worthless, and I blushed with embarrassment at my failure. I heard him laugh.

"That's just what I thought. Your cock is so useless, you can't even jack it off."

It hurt to hear him say that, and I bit my lip in an effort not to cry. Kicking off his slippers, he stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it aside to pull his t-shirt over his head before unbuckling his pants and stepping out of them. His thick, massive cock was already hard and standing out in front of him. Kicking my legs apart with his foot, he knelt down between them, slapping my hand away from my crotch, then cupping his hands under my knees and lifting them into the air. Spitting in his hand, he lubed up his cock, then lined it up with my asshole and pushed it in, burying it to the hilt in one smooth motion.

"Unnngh!"

He rocked himself back and forth, his eyes closed and his mouth open.

"Oh, yeah, that's it. I love a nice warm, wet pussy."

He was calling my asshole a pussy, but since he was fucking it, I guessed in a way that it was. The first thrust had hurt, but now, my god, it felt so good. I hated to admit it, but I loved getting fucked by him, and I no longer cared that he had called my cock worthless.

"You're my whore now, boy, and I'm gonna fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want."

I wanted it to be often.

"Yes, Sir," I panted, watching as his thighs slapped against my buttocks, and I wished I could see cock sliding in and out of my hole. I could only imagine what it looked like beneath the thick, curly patch of his pubic hair. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, moaning as he fucked me hard and fast, then slowly and gently, then hard and fast again, his cock rubbing against something inside me that made me feel like I was going to cum.

"Yeah, you're going to be a good whore for me, aren't you boy?"

"Ungh. Yes, Sir"

I opened my eyes to watch him fuck me again, my limp little cock so shriveled that it was barely there at all, my tiny ball sac pulled up into a barely discernable lump. No wonder he said it was worthless, and that I'd never be able to fuck with it.

Slamming himself in harder and harder, he started grunting, then buried it in as deep as he could as it burst inside of me, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he emptied his balls. Gasping and sighing, he spit into his hand, reaching down to slather it all over my crotch. My asshole still filled with his massive cock, he slowly stroked my little dick hard, spitting in his hand again to make it nice and slippery. I was thankful for it, grateful that he'd even waste his time with my tiny, worthless little dick, and in just a few moments I was cumming all over my chest. Squeezing the last few drops out between his thumb and his forefinger, he rubbed it all into my chest and my abdomen, his cock slipping out unceremoniously as he pushed himself up and sat back in his chair.

"Now come and suck my cock clean, whore."

My head was still spinning as I got to my knees and crawled between his legs. Yes, I was his whore. I wanted to be his whore, to have his cock in my mouth and rammed up my ass. Cupping his balls in my hand, I lifted his cock and sucked it between my lips.

"Yeah, good boy. Now, unless you want to be sucking your shit off my dick, you'll clean your pussy out every day, whether I decide I'm going to fuck you or not. You'll have forty minutes every evening after you're done with the kitchen and the dishes, and when you're finished, you'll kneel at my feet and tell me that your pussy is clean."

Grabbing my hair, he pulled me off of his cock.

"Do you understand me, whore?"

I dropped my eyes from his to the floor.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now go empty that pussy before you drip all over my carpet, then come back and fold up the blanket and put it away."

I hurried to the bathroom, already feeling his cum starting to run down the back of my leg. My head was in the clouds as I sat on the toilet, my asshole still pulsing from the fucking he had given me. I didn't know what the rest of the day was going to bring, or the next day, or the next day, I just knew at the moment that I didn't really care.

Folding the blanket, I stuck it back in the closet, then went to kneel back at his feet.

"Go take a nap."

I was coming down from my sexual high as I flopped onto my bed. Looking down at my feet, I noticed the pink slippers. I had forgotten all about them, but now they embarrassed me. I kicked them off and pulled the blankets over me, my thoughts swarming all over the place in my head. I didn't like that he was making me stay naked, and I wondered when he let me put my clothes on again. He had said that I was his whore, and that he was going to fuck me whenever he wanted to, which, really, he was already doing. And he had called my asshole a pussy, and told me that I would never be a man, and had berated me for the size of my cock and balls. My dad had never been mean to me like that before. It was like he was a completely different person, and I felt like I was lost and abandoned.

Did I really have to clean my asshole out every day? That was what he had said, and my dad never said anything if he didn't mean it. And he wouldn't want to have my shit on his cock. And I wouldn't want his cock in my mouth if it had my shit on it, either.

He had to let me wear clothes eventually, especially once mom came home. Maybe once I was done being grounded, however long that was going to be. I just didn't know. I didn't know anything.

I appreciate any feedback you might have at cksckr4men@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 5


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