Don't Lie to your New Dad
Added 2022-05-11 09:54:12 +0000 UTCWhen I was nine, my mother remarried. The guy she married was named Frank. Frank was a strong guy; 6'5'' and of. He had a thick mustache, thick eyebrows, a cleft in his chin, and stubble, some of which is grey. He looks kind of like Don Frye, only his eyebrows are just the slightest bit thicker, and his stubble is a bit more visible. He also has a tattoo on his right shoulder, and coarse hair on his shoulders, forearms, legs, thighs, and according to him, his ass. I'll explain later. He speaks with a pretty mesmerizing voice. Above his muscles, his helpfulness, and his charming personality, my mom considers his voice one of his best qualities. He didn't have any kids, while my mom had three including me –I was the middle child. Frank instantly connected with my younger sister, and eventually connected with my older sister, yet he and I couldn't. It was just so awkward for me. Frank was set out to change that though.
He and my mom recently went on a vacation to themselves. Frank works as a regional manager. He'd been promoted nine months ago, so before then, he'd work more hours. Now he has the free time to treat out my mom and take us out of the house. They planned their honeymoon and left our aunt to watch us for a few days.
Two weeks after he and my mother came back from their honeymoon, Frank decided that he would be taking me on a trip to his hometown, just the two of us. I really didn't want to go, but I didn't have a choice.
When the day arrived we said our goodbyes and Frank and I Left. He had on a white plain shirt, a navy blue winter vest, camo pants, a black belt, and brown work boots. The ride was long and kinda decent. I liked seeing the atmosphere, but we didn't talk much. When we arrived in his home town, Frank was so excited, he pointed every little thing out to me. When we got to his childhood home (Frank bought it off his parents when they decided to move out) he unpacked the car and we went inside. He insisted on carrying the bags himself. The house was pretty cozy, it had everything you'd need plus beige carpeting. He brought me upstairs and showed me the bedrooms and bathrooms, he told me that I would be sleeping in his old bedroom. He told me to settle In and unpack while he called my mom. I unpacked my clothes and explored his childhood bedroom. I peeked in drawers and looked at old pictures. Frank was a football player and a wrestler in high school. I even found a bag that held all of his old football gear.
"Having fun?" He scared me. His sunglasses are off now.
"Yeah, this stuff looks pretty cool." I replied,
"Thanks, I just got off the phone with your mom, all's good, I'm gonna go make us some dinner. Just watch some TV and come down in thirty, alright?"
"'kay," I said.
As time passes, I walk across upstairs and peek out of all the windows. There's a pool outside on a grey patio. I can see it outside from the two rooms on the right in the upstairs hallway. I peak downstairs and see him cooking. He takes a swig of beer as he cooks. I keep from chuckling at his slight wedgie. Two months ago, he was flirting with my mom and told her he could bounce a quarter between those cheeks. I've been blushing around him since, keeping myself from giggling. I couldn't stop thinking of the things those butt cheeks could do. I'd just look at it any time I can, and I'd smile and giggle, thinking about it all night. His camo pants are always filled by his strongman build.
I shook my head and quietly walked back upstairs. A half an hour later I went back down for dinner. Frank had made two huge porterhouse steaks, with cut up potatoes and a broccoli rabe. Then he turned to me and said the weirdest thing I ever could've imagined he'd say.
"I can't wait for you to try my meat, son."
Huh?
"Once you've had a taste of this meat, you'll never get enough!" .....Is he joking? And did he just call me 'son'? Whatever, I laugh in response. We sit down together in front of the tv in the small den area between the kitchen and the living room. The food tastes great. He opens a tall bottle of beer and enjoys himself. He's got the the TV on ESPN. I'm not into sports, so I'm pretty bored. Once we finished eating Frank unbuttoned his pants and sat back.
"Ughh that was great," he said in his deep voice before punctuating it with a huge fart. "There ya go, boy." He said, I laughed awkwardly and tried to think of something to say. I was absolutely revolted when the stink it my nose. You can see it in my face.
Frank nodded with pride as he looked at me, but then paused in confusion,
"We're amongst men, aren't we?"
I again laugh, but grimace inside. My step dad's farts are terrible, and they linger forever.
"You like farts, cowboy?" He asked me,
"Uh I don't know, why?" I asked in return. I don't know where he's going with this.
"Ah nothing, nothing." He responded, "I'm just saying, it's just gonna be us males here, so I'm not gonna keep myself from walking around in my underwear, stinkin' up the house. I gotta start making you aware of what a man smells like, so you'll be ready once you get married."
Now I'm stunned. He just flexes his right arm muscles and signals that he wants me to touch them. But I ignore the signal.
"What do you mean by that?" I replied. He pauses,
"Oh-uh, nevermind."
I thought to myself for a bit. 'When I get married?' my eyes widen in embarrassment.
"Frank, do you think I'm gay!?"
He laughed a little at how I said that, since I put emphasis on the end.
"What makes you ask that?"
"You made it sound like I'd be marrying a guy!"
He laughs, but stops himself,
"Oh." He smiles, "well you know, whether you are or aren't, you know it doesn't make any difference to me, right. Well...It would kinda make a difference." He yawned, "I'd treat you how a gay kid needs to be treated and all."
"Dad, I'm not gay." I looked at him sternly, trying to be as serious as possible.
At first he looked down at me with that superior smile, but I kept my expression, and his expression changed as my statement hung in the air.
"I understand. You're not gay, I'll be there for you and protect you either way. It's just that you sounded excited earlier. Don't lie to your new dad" Frank said to me with a stern look on his face. I started to laugh nervously,
"I'm not lying" I was uncomfortable with how he had just called himself my dad 'again.'
"Hey, I'm just saying, I don't have a problem with it, I love you either way, son."
"No way! Why would I like you making the house smell bad or walking around in your tighty whities," I stated.
"Pipe down, boy." Frank said as he got up and walked over to the couch, buttoning up his pants. When he sat down he looked at me,
"Come sit next to your old man," he said sternly. I awkwardly got up and walked over to him,
"What?" I said in a confused tone.
As I sat down, Frank put an arm around me and grabbed my hand.
"Here," he said as he scratched his balls through his jeans with my fingers.
"Now, don't lie to me, boy. I understand. I can tell that you're excited..."
I laughed "what," cause I didn't know what else to say! My heart is beating harder than usual.
"I don't like guys, that's just weird!" I said defensively. Frank stood up and looked down at me in a confused manner.
"Oh...okay... you're right." He said. I'm confused. Frank reached over and squeezes my dick. I froze, not knowing where this was going.
"Well, son, we won't speak a word of it." He lets go, "But like it or not, this is what you'll be dealing with. Heh heh."
My discomfort showed. He sensed this. His entire expression changed as he moved to comfort me, but I don't want him to.
"Okay. And why do you keep calling yourself my dad? Stop, it sounds weird." I shouted up to Frank.
He looked annoyed.
"We won't address this further. But I am your father and I will prove my point. Don't worry I don't have a problem with it..."
He leaned away from me, grabbed my hand, and placed it flat under his ass. "But what I will do is show you to lighten up."
Feeling his ass with my hand was unreal. I couldn't get away. With that, a long, deadly leak of hot, hissing gas encased my hand. I gasp in shock while cupping it.
"Yeaahh," he grunted with relief. "And I am your father." He brought my hand back to my face to smell it,
"...from now on, if you call me anything outside of that, you will be punished."
My fartified hand smelled rancid, rotten, and nauseating. I coughed and gagged at the thick fumes. It was really powerful, like a sewage leak. I was completely stunned. My cock bounced in my pants, so I lifted my knees, hoping that would help hide it. I resisted as much as I could, but he held me together with a misleading hug, and I couldn't pull away. Eventually he let go. I grabbed my face and backed away from his fart box.
"Ohhh boy does it stink in here!" He laughed, "WHEWW!"
He was right. That one fart ruined the whole room. He catches a whiff and coughs before escaping his own reek. I grimace, then turn on the fan and open the windows. It doesn't work and I have to endure the stench.
.
.
.
We go to our respective rooms and take a well-needed nap after the long trip. Mine isn't long though. I'm too distracted. I can't stop thinking about how bad his fart smelled. I feel disgusted, like it's still on me. I didn't wash my hand and the smell lingered for so long that I can't tell if it's still lingering or if my memory of it is just that vivid. What if he does that again? What can I do to stop him if he does?
I just try to go to sleep..........It's just so hard. Every time I think the feeling finally passed, my mind goes back to that traumatizing smell.
We wake up around 4:30pm. Frank kept talking about how beautiful the view would be at the top of the mountain at sunset. He really wanted to go 'take it in' with me, so I went along with it. We get dressed and pull up to the mountain.
I followed him, getting the best view of both his ass and his crotch available. He keeps advising me to drink my water to keep myself hydrated. Then about halfway up, I feel an urge to piss.
When it's just Frank and I in the house, we usually don't really care much about closing doors while we're taking a piss or anything like that, and for some reason, watching him piss always caught my attention. I once had a dream where I was in there, by the toilet with him, helping him out while he pees.
"Bra-uh, da..." I try to address him but skip it. "I have to pee really bad. It can't wait."
"Same here, let's just do it" he responded to me. I was again flabbergasted. 'We're gonna be seeing each other's dicks!' was all I could think. We both unzipped. He whips out his dick and starts peeing. I impulsively went ahead and took my cock out. His was about 4 inches soft and definitely much thicker than mine already. Just the look of his cock, it had my full attention. For some reason, I couldn't pee right. I looked down, and my cock was hard and throbbing.
"Fuck dude, that sucks, son .. should probably take care of it" my dad said, smirking.
"What the fuck," I yell at myself. I'm filled with embarrassment. This doesn't mean anything, I've been getting these erections at random and they don't mean anything, but now he's going to get the wrong idea!
I sulk for several minutes. He tries to counsel me. "Something like that isn't something to be ashamed of. That's how a man knows he's alive."
It's probably because he doesn't want to miss seeing the view on time.
When we got to the top, the view was...big. Watching the colors change from the mountain is gorgeous according to him. I liked it too, actually. It felt pretty magical. I admit it was smart of him to get us going right before sunset.
I feel like I'm on top of the world.
"I always used to climb up here, sometimes had dates up here and everything." He handed me his beer. I admit, I excitedly drank some. He held me back. His hand felt so warm in the cold breeze. But this is so weirdly sentimental for a guy who started this trip farting in my face after an argument.
By the time we got back, I was exhausted. I enjoyed myself in every way except the climb, and all I wanna do at this point is lay my tired body down. I turned on the TV. It's all good, but then he showed up. His round ass pressed against the back of my neck.
"How ya feeling, son?"
I shivered at the sound of this. "Come on."
Before I could finish, he let out a long, trumpet-sounding fart on the back of my neck. This guy is disgusting!
"Ahh, there ya go, lil partner. Saved that up the whole hike."
I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he managed to replicate what having an actual turd right under my nose would be like. And it was from a fart that happened behind me! And you can’t shake the stink. It’s like a swarm of bees!! It smells BAD, really bad.
I tried my hardest not to react. Then he cut another one. I still tried to keep from reacting, but eventually I started fanning at the room, looking all around with a look of amazement and horror in my face that has Frank in tears.
He stepped back, forcing me against the corner of the room, pressing his butt out against my abdomen and farted again. At that moment, the room smelled so horrible that I could easily tell you'd need to open all the windows to air it out.
He bounced and rubbed his ass on me. Unable to get away, I crouched down. Bad move, because more he was towering over me, looking like he was about to sit on my face.
"There. Now, see? Tell me that doesn't feel right." I was shaking. He's so hot and so strong...and so sexy. Oh my god. His ass is perfect, I don't know what to do. I can't stop thinking like this!
"How's the view down there, boy?" He then ripped a mean dad fart and moaned. I was paralyzed.
This was a fart that could clear out a room.
It would require a ton of febreeze, all the fans in the house being turned on, and all the windows being opened to clear out the smell. And he released it point blank in my face.
My eyes were in tears. My nostrils were on fire. I desperately tried to exhale the noxious air. I wanted to scream for help, because it was horrible. I yelled into his ass to let me go, but my muffled screams did nothing to help me.
"Yup," he said, "This is a good way for a man to knock his boy down a peg." He farted once more, but this one was more like a low, deep quack. It was so thick, I could barely keep my head together. The smell was so wicked, it leaked into every corner of the house. He mockingly rubbed his butt on me for a few seconds.
"You want out?" I pleadingly said yes into his butt.
"Okay, but when I let you out you have to say. I love you daddy, thank you for farting on my face, and teaching me to sniff a man's ass like roses. Got it?"
Once again I screamed yes into his firm butt. He got up. Although his back was facing me, he was still towering over me. I took huge breaths of fresh air, I had never been in such a gross scenario. He farted again, still towering over me. This man, his farts are military grade. It's like using a port a potty during a summer heatwave with humidity near 100%. No winds, but the ones coming out of your father's ass. Scratch that, your STEP-father's ass.
"Well?" Frank said. I resisted the urge to hit him. I sighed out in anger and did as he told "I love you daddy, thank you for farting on my face, and..." I paused, a bit worried about saying the rest, "t-teaching me sniff a man's ass like roses..."
"You are so welcome, boy, what else are daddys for?" Frank said confidently. Immediately after he said that I was done with this.
"What the f*** Frank, that was so gross" I shouted. I wish I had never said that.
"Did you just call me Frank, I thought I fucking told you that you were to only call me dad or daddy." he said angrily.
"You are not my dad!" I yelled.
"I am your goddamn dad, and you are going to be punished for that." Frank forcefully grabbed me. He got down and pulled me over his knee.
"Get over here boy. You need a good spankin'!" He pulled my pants and underwear down exposing my bare ass.
"What the f***!" I yelled. My body squirmed. My strength is no match for his.
"You'll learn your lesson, no son of mine will misbehave." Frank said forcefully as he brought his hand down to my bare cheeks.
SPANK! SPANK!
I screamed out as he gave me a spanking. The stinging pain was fierce. I immediately broke,
"Please stop I'm sorry!" I cried out.
SPANK!
I felt my ass get hotter and hotter as he spanked me with his open palm. The sound of naked flesh slapping naked flesh echoed around the house.
He rubbed my ass a bit, "I'll redden this bottom till you can't sit down." Then he brought his hand back up and spanked my ass some more.
'SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!' He started taking turns spanking me on my left cheek and my right.
'SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!' at the top and then the bottom of my reddening backside. It started to hurt like hell. Tears started to fill my eyes and I began squirming around over his powerful legs.
He kept going for a little bit while I squirmed, then rested his hand on my ass. "How ya holding up, kid?" He asked, tapping my ass.
I twitch, not responding.
"Hmm. Do you promise to always refer to me as your father from now on?!" Frank stated SPANK SPANK SPANK.
"YE-YE-YES!" I respond in rhythm to his smacks, "I promise... I promise, Dad!" I answered quickly. After me saying that Frank rubbed my bottom, "atta boy," and spanked me three more times, then chuckled in his deep voice as he gently rested his hand on my ass. He let go of me. I rolled off of him and fell to the floor. I stared up at him and he looked down at me.
"Good boy, now I need to get some things done, so you're going to have to sleep for a little bit." With that Frank lifted me up like a rag and grabbed me into a real bear hug. He grunted really loudly as my entire torso squeezed into his. The power to my lower back exacerbated with every passing second. He took his time to have fun with it, deciding against keeping a consistent pressure; he'd loosen his hold a little only to crush even harder the microsecond I'd gasp for just the slightest crumb of oxygen. Like kicking food out of a starving child's hand. His smirk was one of beauty and terror. He kept the same look even as I began to pass out. Even through my blurring vision, every detail of his face and power was clear as day. His strong chin, his thick goatee, the smug expression.
I find my hands on his biceps, trailing down his triceps. He's...such a work of nature.
Everything around me is moving a bit faster than it should. All my thinking is evaporating from my mind. Everything hurts, but at the same time there's a comfort in it. A pervasive joy in being dominated by someone so strong, powerful, and entangled with my everyday life. The last bit of my energy is reserved into giving my dad a gentle hug of my own. My head rests on his strong chest. The pain feels so good and comfortable.
.
.
.
I woke up on his bed, my arms and legs were tied to the headboard and my mouth was taped shut. I could feel some kind of cloth was balled up in my mouth too, it tasted disgusting; tangy, salty, and bitter as shit. I started to panic, but then Frank rushed to my side. His look of surprise slowly changes into an evil, braggadocios smirk.
"Don't worry, kid, your old man's right here, everything's going to be fine. I just needed to tie you up so you would cooperate better." I tried to say something but I couldn't with my mouth tapped shut.
"You like that, boy? That's the briefs I was wearing while we drove out, had 'em on for three days." Frank stated proudly. I winced with disgust. "Yup, all the cum stains and piss stains and man musk... like a daddy rainbow of flavors..." Frank climbed onto the bed. He straddled my chest, this is when I noticed what he was wearing. He had taken off his regular clothes and changed into his old high school singlet. It was extremely tight on him. Every muscle was defined.
"So, sport, you ready for some more father-son bonding" Frank said with a smirk on his face. I was so scared. He started to flex his biceps above me, "Your old man is a god, and you are going to worship him, just like every good son should." I squirmed beneath him.
"Stop struggling, you are going to do this whether you like it or not!" Frank boomed. I'd never heard him raise his voice to me. I stopped squirming and just lied there at his mercy.
"You will do whatever I say, when I say it. And if you don't I will punish you again, but this time it'll be much longer then Before. Understand? And we will stay here for as long as I want, I told your mother a week, but if I feel that you haven't fully worshipped me and learned how you must act as my son, then I will extend our stay, for two weeks, maybe three, it's all up to you." I shook my head in protest to the extended stay
" I didn’t think you'd want to stay longer. So you promise to do whatever I tell you, even when I untie you?" Frank said very seriously. I shook my head up and down rapidly. Even though I knew whatever he had in store for me was probably horrible, one week of it was defiantly better then two. After I agreed to Frank's horrible terms he stood up turned around, and repositioned himself so his ass was right above my face. He straddled my head so that if he were to sit ever so slightly my face would be in between his butt cheeks.
"Does my ass look nice in my singlet? It's pretty tight on me, kid." Frank said. His ass did look pretty great in it though, the tight fabric really put his massive globes on display.
"Oh, kid, I'm gonna enjoy this. This'll keep you in line!" Frank stated. With that, he scratched his ass, sat down, and released a hiss of hot, rotten gas on my nose.
"Yeahhh" he sighed, as the strong smell rushed through his singlet and up my nose . The smell was as repulsive as it was potent, wrapping around my face. It stinks and it lingers. I can't believe this! My dad's gloated about clearing isles in the grocery store, and about times he's ruined thanksgiving with his gas, but to be introduced to that power face-first is astounding!
"Mmmm," he moans. Just one fart from him goes way too far.
"Inhale your dad's fart" Frank said with arrogance. I did as I was told, and took a huge deep breath in through my nose, the smell was a horror to behold. I couldn't believe what was happening, Here I was, my face being sat on by my step dad, as he farted all over my it. Frank began grinding his ass up and down my face, making sure my nose never left his butt crack. Frank then farted again, and as much as I didn't want to I had no choice but to breath. Once again the smell was horrendous, It was like steak and rotten eggs.
"Ohh yes this is amazing, get ready for these big boys..." Frank said with pleasure as he released a high pitched bubbly fart up my nose. The intensity of the funk made my eyes water. He releases another loud one, full of base. You could've heard it from outside. The tent in my pants has to be noticeable. It's throbbing and considering who I'm dealing with, I've got to do something, but I can't. I'm trapped. Why does this have to be happening to me?
He rubs his ass on my face for a few seconds before a sudden stream of silent, hot wind rushes onto my nose. The sinister stink wafts and wades deep into my olfactory sense. Soon, the vibrations and sound increase into a bubbly bomb, until lowering back into its initial silent hiss. He sighs, scratching his butt on my face by rubbing it hard, releasing a hard poot while doing so.
"See son, and I still got a lot more. I could do this all day...NGH!"
A burst of flatulence blasts against my face intensely.
"Any night, if I feel like it, I'll make your room uninhabitable. I could always clear out a room. I'm so happy I don't have to hide it in front of you anymore."
He got off of my face, and laid over my entire body removing the tape and taking out his manly underwear.
I open my mouth to say something, but I can't think of anything. I'm at a lost for words.
He nodded his head as if admiring his work on me, then burped extremely loud before blowing it right up my nose. He started to laugh.
"You're just daddy's little gas sniffer aren't you" he said happily. I felt like I was going to throw up.
He farted again. I saw his face as he did it. He squinted his right eye a bit when he farted, and grunted in my ear.
"Okay, boy, I have some more gas left, but I didn't put on this singlet just to fart on a defenseless victim, get ready to wrestle your good 'ol daddy, son."
I guess I don't have much of a choice. I looked around in confusion. Am I supposed to wear a singlet too?
"Just strip down." He said. I looked back at him. "Strip down," he repeated. I stripped to my boxer-briefs. We sync up, he teaches me how to do a proper stance. And we begin.
He instantly pulls me down. I try to fight him off, but before I know it, he has his thick, hairy legs wrapped around my head. My head is laying on his quadriceps while he straddles my neck and chest. I thought he was going to sit on my face, but instead he lays diagonally down my body, facing in the direction of my feet.
My head is now trapped in between his powerful thighs while this heavy, muscular gorilla lays on top of me. It's hard to breathe or move. I can't lift him, I can't squirm out, I can't do anything but complain.
"How's that, kid?" He asks calmly and rhetorically.
I don't answer. My field of vision is filled with his thighs, his taint, his ass, his groin, and the ceiling. The smell of him fills my nose.
"Ha!" He yells as he flexes and tightens his thighs. My neck and my head feel very pressured.
My head was jammed between the rhythmically flexing muscles of his powerful thighs. My lips were pressed to the crescent between the back of his left thigh and his left ass cheek, any brief respite in his tightening was the only chance of gasping for breath myself.
"Now, son, this is called a figure four headscissors pin." He says. Any time he'd tighten his hold again, the pressure would squeeze my head and force my lips out, making me kiss his ass. I really felt like I couldn't do anything. This behemoth actually has me trapped! Muscles bulging...
"C'mon ya little punk, fight!" he had me in such a position that I could not get loose, in fact I could barely move, and one of his arms was twisted around my thigh so that his wrist was right on top of my throbbing erection. He wasn't moving, he just kept me here in this submission. His ONLY movement that I could detect was his thighs squeezing my skull and his hand pressing against my hard dick and moving up and down against it.
I liked the feelings his hand was causing in me, but as I felt my dick throb, I started freaking out. I soon realized that, if he continued, I was going to have a big problem. If he continued, I might cum in front of someone for the first time. I had started jacking off by pressing my cock against my mattress several months ago, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before that happened here, and this was NOT a good time or place for that. Oh god, no. I thrash, but I can't get him to stop. I have no control. I felt the familiar stirrings of an eruption. What was I going to do? What COULD I do? I tried pushing his hand away from me with my leg, but he was too strong. I don't know what to do, so I remember I can tap out, so I do. He pauses, then gives my dick one last good squeeze. I yelp, he chuckles. He moves back and his crotch rubs against my face for a second.
"That little thing didn't explode, did it?" He asks
I hesitate, then nod my head 'no'.
"That's one point for me. Get up, boy." As he stood up, he saw my red sweaty face and laughed, then yanked me up. I felt dazed. He handed me some water to quench my thirst, and then the next match started. I ran up to knock him down. He didn't budge, and in fact, he smiled. It was very aggravating. He then got impatient.
"What are you, a girl? Knock me down!"
I back up and study him. I really don't know what I'm doing. I tried to get him into a lock. It's all I know. He gave me another ten seconds before he stepped one leg behind mine and stood out his right elbow tripping me down while tipping forwards until he was on top of me again.
He quickly switched positions. He held my right arm with his thighs and laid his upper body on my chest whilst keeping my head in a strong headlock.
"Yeah....how does it feel to be helpless? ....Completely...helpless? Not fun, is it?"
The entire bottom half of my face was forced against the bottom of his right pec.
"How does 60 inches of chest taste, punk?"
He started bouncing his right pectoral on my face. 'Arrogant piece of shit!' I thought. The smell of his armpits fill my nose. The sound of his loud grunts also filled up the room. Once again, I'm completely vulnerable.
“You surrender?” he asks
I tried to endure it, but I quickly tap out. I just couldn't take it. He tightened his squeeze just a bit more before quickly getting up.
He wiped some sweat off his forehead, and a lot of it lands on me. I don't know if it was intentional or not. Then he stood his hand out for me and yanked me up again.
"Son, if you lose this match, I'm makin' you kiss my ass!" He yelled.
What? Oh god!
"You can't just add stipulations like that!"
"Bet you wish you listened to me instead of your mom when she suggested you learn drums instead of sports, don't you, babygirl?"
Now I'm pissed.
The third match began. I immediately clutch him, attempting to throw him on his back before he was ready. God, what a stupid move. He was prepared. He swept back and out with his leg, knocking me off-balance, and as my grip around him loosened in my attempt to right myself, he was able to twist around and regain his footing.
I fell onto my knees, then my 'dad' put his big, working-man's hand over my face and pushed me onto the floor. His big sweaty muscle gut leaned over me as he walked over to my body, standing over me then he dropped to his knees around my body so that his knees went over my shoulders and his sweaty spandex-lined crotch was inches from my face. He laughed when his crotch touched my face slightly,
“Oh yeah! Teabag should get you to tap out, you ready to quit?” I barely got to say anything before his sweaty bulge covered my mouth. I looked up at him in disparity. His face, however, made it clear he was having fun humiliating me like this. Flexing his dominance.
His crotch floated along the ridges of my face; across my brow, down my nose, from my hairless upper lip to my closed lips. I breathed in the man musk he had permeating the hairs on his sack, and I shook my head 'no', rubbing my own face against his man meat by mistake.
“Alright then” he laughed and scootched forward so that his whole crotch and part of his ass covered my face. He shook slightly from time to time and lifted after a minute or so.
My whole face reeked of his groin by the time this mountain of a man was done. He switched positions and effortlessly grabbed hold of both of my arms, spread them wide and pulled me into his face so that my mouth was practically centimeters from his mouth. He hocked up a loggie in his throat.
"Ewww!" I yell out. I watched his bottom lip move around a bit before a ball of mucus filled spit became visible under his thick mustache and between his lips.
"NO! NO PLEASE!" I yell.
I couldn't move. I couldn't defend myself. The thick ball of spit slowly drooled down until it fell into my mouth. It was disgusting. He smirked when he saw my disgusted face as he smugly wiped his saliva off his mouth with his wrist.
“You give up, kid?” he said before letting out a quick burp in my face. I reply with a “yes...”, accidentally swallowing his spit. I wanted to spit back out, but I was afraid of getting it on him.
He slowly got up. He didn't pull me up this time. After giving me a minute or so to recover, he looked down at me and said, "Well?"
I looked up, my eyes traveling up his sweaty body, briefly distracted by each curve of muscle. How could I have ever thought of beating someone who would've been way out of my weight class? I respond to his rhetorical concern,
"Well what?"
He turned around. My face aligned with his perfectly proportioned, well defined ass cheeks.
I sighed and got on my knees, my face level with my 'dad's' ass. As I leaned toward it I got a nasty whiff of his backside. He stunk. The smell itself is salty. It gets stronger as I keep my face there, so I leaned back,
"Do I have to do this? I mean, isn't there something else I could do?"
"No way, boy. You lost. Now kiss my ass."
I look up at the broad-shouldered specimen. The tall man towering above me. I feel mortified knowing what I have to do.
I sigh, close my eyes, leaned in and...plant my lips over my 'dad's' right ass cheek and smooched it hard. I'm surprised by just how firm it is. Then I pulled back, the taste still on my lips.
"There. Are you happy now?"
"Keep those lips on those mounds, boy!" He ordered, "I wanna enjoy this."
I wanted to leap up and yell at him, but I didn't. There's no point.
"And don't try to pussy out of this, you're gonna kiss me where my cheeks meet."
I groaned and brought my face into the middle-aged Goliath's butt, but when my lips tasted the musky, salty spandex, I pulled back again.
He raised his voice a little and I quickly pushed forward and planted my lips on the crack of his ass. He then put his hand behind my head and pushed his ass back. My face went all the way in between his asscheeks. I could feel his ass hair through the spandex. He let out a loooong fart. Sweet mother of God did it smell horrible! It went strait up my nose.
His hand held me firmly in place. I was overwhelmed by the devastating aroma. But before I knew it, I was terrorized by a second, really deep fart. Tears form in my eyes. The smell is downright atrocious! I had no idea what to do. My hands place themselves delicately on his big, round ass as this bully towered over me. My god, this man is powerful. He can do anything he wants with me now and he knows it.
"Kid, you think that's it, huh?" he yelled, "No, you're gonna really kiss my ass, boy, really kiss my ass!"
I could barely concentrate due to the pungent smell, but I heard that.
"What do you mean?" I sheepishly ask with my face in his big ass.
"I mean I want you to kiss it bare."
I cringe. My muffled, vibrating yells read "You want me to kiss your bare ass?"
"Yup," he smiled down at me, "...but not now."
He walked off out of the room, but stopped at the doorway to look back at me.
"Still, how does it feel to be an ass-kisser, boy?" He asks rhetorically, shaking his head as he chuckles and leaves.
The smell. Apart from his mocking comments, all that filled my mind was the smell. I'll never forget it. The stench is stuck up my nose. And it won't go away.
I tried to figure out a way to quickly get myself out of the mess he put me into. Do I cut the damn thing off? Burry my nose? Soak my lungs in gasoline? Do I run around the block keeping my hobo swamp ass smelling face behind me, hoping the smell of it would lag behind? Then after a while, I thought about what he said.
I kind of frowned and actually started thinking to myself and what I had done. I just kissed his ass! I just kissed the ass of my step-father! To me that meant of thing of inferiority. With that kiss, I was officially his bitch!
My heart was pounding. My dick was so hard too. What's wrong with me? 'He did this to me. Wow, what a...what a guy.'
So I'm sitting here, thinking about it, laying in the couch, mouth agape, hard as a rock.
A few hours have passed since then. The smell swarmed the hallway. It stuck around for every bit of an hour or two.
He comes in, shirtless, and only wearing a pair of light blue jeans, sticks his powerlifter-butt less than half a foot away from my face, hikes up his right leg, and rips a deep, bubbly, 7-second fart. The smell floods my nose and has my eyes watering. I grimace, and make a rotten face, inhaling the concentrated whiff from close range. He sighs with relief and walks towards the door.
"I'm going outside to work on the car. When I get back, I expect a few beers in a bucket of ice. You got that, boy?"
I nod my head 'yes'.
"You ever touch yourself, boy?" He asks,
"N-no..."
"Don't you lie to me."
"I never have, dad."
He gives me this serious look. His eyes are twinkling. "Well, when I come in to cool off a little, I'll show ya how." He nods, turns and walks. Just like a cowboy..... But two steps into his walk, he pushes his ass out a bit in my direction and rips a longer fart that echoes around the house. The noxious fumes spread throughout the room and has me gagging.
He grunts before leaving without looking back. I feel myself getting harder and harder as I breathe in his farts. It takes me about a minute to realize that I just called him 'dad' without thinking about it.