Cock Worship

“All right, faggot,” Dad says, looking down at me, smiling back at me as I lick his cock, kissing my way down the shaft with a happy smile on my face, “Show Daddy what the real purpose of your mouth is. Worship Papa's fat cock like a good fag.”

My brain rewires as I continue licking my father's cock, worshipping his meat with my lips and tongue. I kiss my way from tip to hilt, then lick my way back up again, grinding the tip of my glossal muscle against my father's sensitive frenulum.

“That's it, fag, make Daddy feel like a god,” Dad commands, and I obediently continue, rolling my tongue around his tip, then back down again. When Dad reaches for me, it isn't to stop me, it's to pull my shirt off over my head and strip it off.

I lift my arms compliantly, pausing in my worship only long enough to let the fabric slide past my face. Then my mouth returns to his cock and I resume my duty, my obligation to service my father. I lick his cock from hilt to crown once more.

“Bottoms off, fag,” Dad commands, putting one hand in my hair at the back of my head, “and don't you dare stop what you are doing while you get them off.” I moan softly against his cock, offering him pleasurable vibrations to show obedience.

My hands move to my hips, unbuttoning and unzipping. I slide my shorts down my hips until they're below my knees, and twist a bit. I grab my socks and pull them off my feet, along with my shorts and underwear, leaving me nude on my knees.

“Good boy. Faggots don't wear clothes in this house,” Dad commands, “I'm sure your mother will agree with this as a new house rule. Long as you live here, you don't wear clothes again in this house, faggot.” I moan softly and nod in response.

“Mm, mm-hmm,” I moan against my father's cock, and he sighs in pleasure, “Such a good little brainwashed cocksucker. Your mouth feels so right on my cock, you look so good, like this.” I moan softly against my Dad's cock as I keep licking.

Dad groans softly with arousal, watching as I worship his cock, looking up and maintaining eye contact. I lovingly lick and kiss his meat, caressing it with my lips and tongue. Dad is loving the view, a soft, happy smile on his face while he watches.

I can hear footsteps, but I don't look away from my father. Dad's the centre of my focus right now, his cock the only thing that's relevant. The taste of his cock floods my tongue as my mind rewires itself, his musk filling the cavities of my lungs.

“You stripped him down?” Mom asks.

“Just the shirt. I made him strip off the rest himself while he worships my cock, babe,” Dad replies. Mom hums while she comes closer, coming to stand behind me.

“Why?” Mom asks.

“Fags shouldn't wear clothes in our house,” Dad replies, motioning to me, “And this is nothing but a faggot, now. Agree?”

“Agreed,” Mom replies, looking down at me, “You're not to wear clothes in this house ever again, faggot. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Mom, yes, Dad, I love you,” I answer obediently, each word punctuated by a kiss down the length of my father's rod. He moans softly while I continue worshipping his cock, and I don't pay attention to Mom lifting my hips from the floor.

Author's Note:
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