Parents' Footrest

I listen as Mom and Dad clear the table, then Dad walks into the living room, not even looking at me. He simply ignores me as he walks to his loveseat and sits down behind me. I hear the TV click on, then he rests his heels on the small of my back.

I look over my shoulder and Dad casually kicks me in the balls. I arch my spine in pain and gasp softly, and Dad scolds me, firmly, “Face forward, faggot. Furniture doesn't reposition itself. You heard your mother. You're nothing but furniture.”

“Sorry Da-ow!” Dad interrupts by kicking me in the balls again.

“Furniture doesn't speak, either, faggot!” Dad scolds me harshly, as I turn my face forward and bite my lip, hissing in pain. I listen as Dad clicks the remote, channel-surfing for a moment until Mom walks in. I watch her sit casually on the couch.

She leans back, folding her arms behind her head, her cock still out, like Dad's. Then she puts her feet on the back of my head and pushes my head down. I lower my head obediently to stare at the floor as Mom rests her feet on my shoulders.

For about an hour and a half, Mom and Dad both ignore me, watching television, first the news, followed by a brand new documentary about modern hypnosis. It's interesting, as I listen but can't watch, as it talks about the role of hypnotists.

If I hadn't been reprogrammed, I'd be watching it with fascination. As the documentary ends, Mom's foot taps against my back. Dad's feet shift to my ass and he pushes me forward. Mom snaps her fingers, and I look up, and make eye contact.

“Come, fag,” Mom orders. I crawl forward, her feet sliding off my back to either side, as I position myself between her legs and kiss her cock, licking from crown to hilt. “That's it. Good faggot. You can worship me since you've behaved properly.”

I smile up at my Mom lovingly, appreciatively licking her cock from the hilt to the crown. I brush my face against her rod for a moment before kissing my way down, a trail of soft touches from my lips leading down to Mom's large, heavy jewels.

She watches me for a moment, then resumes ignoring me, returning her attention to the television. As she ceases to look at me, I close my eyes and focus on my reward for being a good faggot. I draw my tongue reverently up Mom's underside.

The sound of cars pulling into the driveway doesn't stop me from attending her. I kiss my way down her cock once again, purring softly against her thick phallic shaft. Mom's cock stands hard and proud in front of me as I worship the entire rod.

“Stop,” Mom orders, as we hear the garage door opening and shutting. I freeze, my tongue pressed firmly to the underside of Mom's crown. Two sets of footsteps in the kitchen, the sound of the twins taking their shoes off before they speak up.

“Mom! Dad! We're home!” Enzo calls.

“Go, faggot,” Mom orders. I pull back and push myself up onto my feet, quickly moving to the kitchen as Mom calls out to answer the twins. “Welcome home, dear. Your father and I have made good use of the faggot. He's yours if you need him.”

“Thanks Mom!” Juno answers as their eyes fall on me, and I stand quietly, hands behind my back, swaying on the balls of my feet. My own cock is hard, but ignored, and I neither comment on it nor make any attempt to conceal my own arousal.

“Come, fag,” Enzo orders, motioning as the twins walk past me and head for their rooms upstairs, “You can serve us both.” I follow dutifully behind, silent and obedient. My brain rewires, as we walk, telling me the twins are entitled to using me.

Author's Note:
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