This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged at boreas456@gmail.com. I can also be reached at Boreus on Recon if you prefer that.
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NOTE: I'm good to go for the next couple of chapters to come in pretty quick succession. Apologies for the dealy with these. I'm going to try to lean into the dialogue for Howard to try to capture his southern redneck charm. If it becomes distracting or takes away from the overall experience please don't hesitate to let me know.
And now for our feature presentation...
Belonging- CHAPTER 9
I awoke to a prodding sensation in my back, Howard's morning wood no doubt. Wanting to feel his cock nestled between my cheeks, I ground my ass back until it slipped into the crevice. Heat radiated from his groin. My motion caused him to stir slightly, pushing his cock forward to graze my sore hole. I sucked in air trying to remain as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake either of the men next to me. Howard's arms tightened around my chest and he humped forward, seeking the warmth of my body. His kiss flashed through my mind as I wiggled against him. The rocking of the bed sent Mike stirring as well, as Howard whispered to me.
"Mornin' piggy. Hope you got some sleep 'cause you're gonna need it today. We plan on usin' those fuckin' holes until you can't walk faggot. Last night was the honeymoon, bitch. We thought you earned a taste of how good it could feel when a Durham's got his big ol' cuntbuster up yer hole. We ain't gonna be so nice today. If there is one thing we Durham men know how to do, it's fuck. You're officially our dickditch. Hope you don't go regrettin' givin' yerself to us, 'cause it ain't gonna matter to us none," he finished with a quick nibble to my ear.
His description of their plans for the day simultaneously terrified and excited me. Mike excused himself to the bathroom for his morning piss while Howard began humping his cock between my ass cheeks. He held me tight to his chest and brought his mouth to my neck, sucking a hickey onto my soft skin. He rolled me out of his arms onto my stomach, after which he moved behind me and widened my legs with his knees. His rough hands pried my cheeks apart and he spit directly onto my hole, causing it to wink at him. My hole was still sore from the night before, which caused each new sensation to be felt tenfold. I whimpered in pain as he rubbed his spit around my hole with his thumb.
Mike returned from the bathroom and climbed back onto the bed with the two of us, taking up the empty position at my head. He brought his cock to my lips and told me to suck him while his dad worked my tired hole open. I wrapped my arms around his thighs and began sucking, trying to distract myself from the uncomfortable feeling coming from below. Howard spit once again, gave my hole a light slap, and then mounted me. He steadily shoved his entire length home and began fucking in earnest. Each stroke sent my face deeper into Mike's crotch and caused me to grunt around his strong shaft. His taste was a mix of his morning piss and musk. Howard was spewing expletives down at me as he continued his rut, eventually increasing his pace and dumping his morning load into my body with a roar.
He withdrew from my burning hole, causing me to whimper around Mike's cock, then left to take a shower. I continued swallowing Mike's cock, hoping that he would be content with emptying into my throat. Unfortunately for my hole he had other things in mind, pulling out of my mouth and lifting me up by my armpits. Mike positioned my ass over his cock and slowly started applying pressure to my shoulders. I grunted and moaned when his head breached my ring, my face scrunching in pain.
"Look at me Dane," he said softly.
I brought my eyes to his and he smirked in that specific way that drives me crazy. His hands left my shoulders and I knew he wanted me to be the one to do the work. This was my chance to prove to him those things I told him a few days ago were true. It was my chance to show him once and for all I wanted this. I relaxed my thighs and forced my way down, impaling myself on the full length of his cock. My eyes bugged out and my breath caught in my chest as the pain registered in my brain. His eyes flashed and a small chuckle escaped his lips.
"Good faggot," he snickered drily.
His hands snaked their way over my hips and he started bouncing me on his cock, the tag on my collar jingling with each thrust. My caged dick was dripping precum into my jock creating a wet patch. Periodically he would trace a finger through the area and bring it to my lips, which I accepted greedily. The steady burning in my ass was accompanied by small bursts of pleasure each time he would hit my prostate, forming a dichotomy of sensations that confused and aroused me. He took his time, switching up his technique every so often to prolong his fuck. When his dad returned from the shower, Mike had me planted on his cock and not allowing me to do more than wiggle. Howard climbed up into the bed behind me and took both of my nipples between his fingers, expertly rolling and pulling them. I began babbling obscenities as he toyed with them, Mike's grip strengthening around my hips to keep me in place.
"God damn faggot, your hole keeps clenching around my cock. Sit still. Put all that desire to wriggle into making my cock feel good," he barked at me.
I gazed into Mike's hazel eyes as I did my best to follow his orders. My ass went into overdrive as I squeezed and clenched around his girth. All sense of pride was lost as I squealed and whimpered at the exquisite abuse they were inflicting on my body.
"Ready for my load, pussyboy?" Mike asked.
I nodded vigorously, grinding my ass down as far as I could. The burning sensation was replaced by a dull ache when Mike began to fuck back into me. Howard kept up his work on my nipples, which seemed to be hardwired to my prostate. Mike's breath quickened and with one final slam into my hole, his cock thickened and spewed his load deep inside of me. He brought a hand up to my face and gave me two light slaps, chuckling. I collapsed back into Howard, who held me close and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. He gently pulled me off his son's cock, allowing Mike to untangle himself and head for the shower. The mixture of their loads began to slowly drip out of my ass and down my thighs, my exhausted ass unable to contain them. Howard quickly moved me off of the bed before it could be soiled and told me to follow Mike to the shower.
I crawled after Mike, entering the bathroom just as he was stepping into the warm spray. Crawling in after him, I kissed his feet and began my duty of soaping him down. He left me to clean myself up after I was finished with him, telling me to douche and crawl to his room when done. After cleaning myself inside and out, I returned to his room to find him waiting with my hood in hand.
"We both have to work again today, faggot. I'm gonna keep you caged today so you can rest, I'm sure your cunt is worn out," he said nonchalantly.
He quickly put the hood on and zipped it up, then led me into the cage. Before he closed the door, he held my hips still and I felt a cold sensation at my hole as he rubbed something on with his finger.
"This is just some cream to help with the pain. It'll help keep the muscles relaxed."
After applying a generous amount of whatever it was, he gave my ass a small slap and told me to make myself comfortable. I made a small circle around the cage and curled up on the doggy bed. He threw something in front of my face before closing and bolting the door. I reached for it and felt some type of soft fabric and immediately smelled his musk. Before I realized it I was inhaling his odor, bringing the mystery piece of clothing to cover my mouth and nose. He chuckled from above me when he witnessed the display.
"I thought you might enjoy my underwear faggot; you definitely earned them. Now be a good puppy today," he said, laughing as he bolted the cage and closed the closet door.
I vaguely heard his footsteps trail from the room and the door close, leaving me to huff his underwear for the rest of the day, my caged cock leaking into my jock.
The rest of the week continued in much the same manner. Father and son would use and abuse me while they were home, and keep me caged while they weren't. The days usually consisted of a morning blowjob or fuck, after which I would be left with one of their used garments to keep me occupied. Upon their return I would be released and given the opportunity to worship their work boots and feet, clean their sweaty pits, and even drink their piss if they were in the mood. On one particular night they placed me in Mike's shower and drenched me with the loads they had saved up in their bladder over the course of the day. I was their cocksleeve, urinal, spittoon, bootlicker, and entertainment, all the while my caged cock dripped into my jock as I grew hornier and hornier.
On the day I was to return home I was left out of my cage and given a list of various domestic duties to perform. I did their laundry, washed dishes, cleaned bathrooms, and vacuumed carpets. By the time they had returned home from work, I had completed the list and returned myself to my cage to wait for them and decided to snooze. Howard was the first to arrive, waking me and walking me to the living room. He was in his typical work attire: jeans that were distressed in all the right places from wear, work boots, southern pride tee shirt, and his tool belt slung over his shoulder.
"Got a surprise for you tonight piggy, since you're goin' home and all. Can't wait until Mike gets home to see this," he chuckled to himself.
He set me to work on his boots, which I happily cleaned with my tongue. Periodically he would softly kick my cage with whichever foot wasn't being serviced, causing me to leak copious amounts of precum into my jock. Once he was satisfied with his boots, he retrieved my pink leash and clipped it to my collar. Tugging on it, he led me out the side door to the backyard. I was slightly nervous being outside, even with the privacy fence obscuring us from any prying eyes. Their garage had a small brick patio area attached to it which housed a small outdoor sofa and table set. He led me next to the couch and told me to stay, then moved around the area lighting several citronella candles. I kept my eyes on him, drawn to his confident body language and lithe movements. He entered the garage for a minute or so and returned to the couch carrying something in his hands. Immediately I recognized the dildo I had brought from home at Mike's request.
"I want ya to lube this up and get it up yer hole, faggot. Shouldn't be too hard since you been taking our cocks for the past week."
He handed me the rubber cock and a small bottle of lube then returned to the house. I stared at the fake phallus, examining it. It was roughly the same size as Mike's cock, only girthier towards the base. There was a suction cup at the bottom, which would be mostly useless on the brick I was seated on. Howard came back outside as I was applying a generous amount of lube to it.
"Hurry up faggot I ain't got all day. Mike is gonna be home soon and if you aren't ready I'm gonna be fuckin' pissed," he bellowed as he walked toward me.
In his hands were wrist and ankle cuffs and a couple of carabiners. I quickened my pace and rose to my knees, placing the dildo at my hole. After two or three test thrusts, I steadily sank down onto its length. With some effort I was able to bring myself to rest near the base, my hole stretched to capacity with rubber.
"Good job faggot. Now let's get you pretty for Daddy," Howard said.
He applied light pressure to my shoulders to position me, then set about attaching the cuffs to my wrists and ankles. He brought my wrists to my ankles and hooked them together, pushing my chest out obscenely. From his pocket he produced my nipple clamps, quickly securing them to my now defenseless nipples. Next he withdrew a black sharpie and began circling me.
"What should I mark you with? Hmmm," he said to himself.
After a minute or so he bent down and wrote something on each of my arms, then moved around the my front and wrote several words on my chest, stomach, and thighs. He stepped back to study his work, guffawed at my predicament, and then produced one more piece of equipment from his back pocket. He told me to open, then buckled some type of gag onto my face. Over my nose I could that it had a protruding rod that ended in a small bowl. It was an ashtray. Rather, I was now an ashtray. He left me for another minute before returning and taking a seat in front of me, a decent sized cigar now in his hand. He clipped the end off and lit it, slowly rolling it in his mouth to get an even burn. I was mesmerized, my eyes following every move of his hands as he took pleasure in his smoke.
"You look so cute down there piggy, all marked up and pathetic. Bet yer little cage is the wettest it's been this whole time, ain't it?" he asked derisively, cigar clamped in his teeth.
I slowly nodded and kept staring at him in all his masculine glory. Immediately I knew that this would become a regular occurrence. He silently smoked and browsed his phone, laughing occasionally at something he came across. After several minutes, I heard a car door slam in the driveway.
"Back here, son!" Howard yelled out.
Immediately I heard hoots of laughter as Mike rounded the corner and saw my predicament. He made his way over to the two of us and I couldn't bring myself to look at him, keeping my eyes on Howard's cigar.
"Well well, look at you puppy. Serving as Dad's ashtray. You know he never really got the chance to enjoy a cigar with mom around, but it looks like he will be making up for lost time with you, huh?" he laughed and took a seat next to his father.
I moaned in response and clenched around the invader in my ass, causing me to drip more precum into my jock. The two mostly ignored me while they chatted about their days, both having stressful jobs. My eyes stayed zeroed in on the growing ash stub on Howard's cigar, trying to calculate when he would finally decide to tap it off. I didn't have to wait much longer as he brought his hand forward to the cup and roughly tapped his cigar. The force caused the gag to lift up into my soft palate, forcing a small cough from my lungs in surprise.
"Careful faggot," Howard spat. "Ashtrays don't fuckin' cough, do they?" he asked rhetorically.
They returned to their conversation, with Howard tapping the cup every so often. I had never been hornier in my life, being completely ignored and objectified in such a way. After about thirty minutes, Howard had finished his cigar and stubbed the butt out in the cup. He then reached forward and removed the nipple clamps suddenly, causing me to scream into the gag as the blood rushed back into them. He returned to the house, leaving Mike and I alone outside. Mike chuckled and removed the carabiners keeping me impaled on the dildo and gently removed it before standing me up and removing the gag.
"Did you enjoy that puppy?" he asked, reaching down to my wet jock. "Seems like you did. If I know Dad that is going to become something of a ritual for the two of you. Now, your clothes are in the garage. I know you have to work the next few days. I left some things in your bag for you to use while you are away. I want you to use them everyday, understood? Call me if you have any questions," he finished, leading me to the garage door and walking back to the house.
I opened the door and stepped inside, remembering the writing all over my body for the first time. Glancing down, I was instantly arouse by what Howard had chosen to write on me. 'FAGGOT' was emblazoned across my chest. 'SLUT' and 'WHORE' were each on one arm. 'URINAL' was traced across my stomach. Finally, I saw my thighs and couldn't supress a moan from escaping my lips. On each thigh, the word 'CLITTY' was scrawled with an arrow pointing to my dick, encased in its pink prison. I stood for several minutes and stared at the words, knowing without a doubt that each and every one of them were true.
I dressed in a daze, gathered my things, and made my way to the car. I started the drive home, so enraptured by the two men who had taken control of my life that I didn't even remember to turn the radio on.