Dad

Dad's BMW 4-series is in the garage when I walk into the driveway, which means he's gotten home early from his job. It happens, sometimes, and sometimes Mom has to stay late at her bakery. I stretch a bit, while standing in the driveway.

When I walk in through the garage entrance, he's not in the kitchen, but as I close the garage door, I call out to greet him, and let him know I'm home. “Hey, Dad, I'm home!”

“In the living room, faggot!” Dad calls back, as I take off my shoes and socks and put them by the sliding glass door to the backyard. Then I turn and walk into the living room, looking until I see my Dad sitting in the loveseat, with his cock out.

“Whoa! Dad, what th-” I start, but Dad waves a hand and cuts me off.

“Shut up, faggot,” he orders, and I smile blithely at being called that, “Clothes off.”

“What? Why?” I ask automatically.

“You're a faggot, aren't you?” he asks, and I smile, nodding in acknowledgement, unable to deny being something I smile at being called, “Your mother and I discussed it on the phone when I get home. Faggots don't wear clothes in our house.”

“Oh,” I reply blandly, sighing but pulling off my shirt, and dropping it on the coffee table. I unbutton and unzip my shorts, sliding them down with my boxer-briefs, dropping them on my shirt. It's awkward, being nude in front of my Dad, though.

“Much better, fag,” Dad says, and I smile. The awkward sensation vanishes as I kneel down and crawl to him as he parts his thighs, and I bring my mouth automatically to his dick. I lick his cock lovingly from hilt to crown, just as I'm programmed.

“That's it, there's a good little faggot,” Dad says approvingly, as I kiss my way down his cock and then lick my way back up his massive cock. I'm in awe of how big his prick is, but I focus my eyes on his, looking up and making eye contact for him.

“Yea, you like this, don't you, fag?” Dad asks, and I moan softly against him in confirmation, “You like Daddy treating you exactly how you deserve, faggot?” I hum an affirmative response as I continue licking and kissing his cock as I'm meant to.

“Brainwashed little faggot slut,” Dad smirks smugly down at me, and I kiss my way down his cock before licking my way to the crown once more. I grind the tip of my tongue against his sensitive frenulum before circling it around his entire helm.

“Fuck, yes, fucking little faggot!” Dad groans involuntarily in pleasure, looking down at me.

Author's Note:
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