Dad needs another load

"H-Hey..."

You weren't sure what got you going first, the sound of your father's weak voice calling for you or the sound of your very expensive lamp crashing to the ground and shattering. Either way, you rolled your eyes and quickly made your way into the bedroom to find your father sprawled out, his face in contortions, and a general look of pain from the splitting headache he was now encountering. Luckily for him (and for your sanity, not wanting to experience the sensation of him sucking you off again), you had a cup of cum ready for him to drink, having jerked off about 10 minutes ago.

"Here, dad, drink up."

You helped him into a sitting position as he attacked the cup with his tongue, licking and sucking as much of the fluid from the cylindrical container as possible. He moaned continuously as you watched his chest bouncing up and down from the movements he was making. It was odd in a very strange, almost hypnotic sort of way, as the idea that your man's man father had hidden the fact that he was transsexual from not only you but your mother and sister. Did that excuse any of the torment he had delivered upon you guys? Not for all the gold in the world would you ever forgive him for that...but here he was, his body obviously in revolt and craving the very cum from the son he had rejected and refused to acknowledge.

Irony was sure ironic in some sense.

After he finished the last bit of cum, you looked at him for a moment and then held up a syringe. "I need to take your baseline, we need to start to see where you begin post-load now." He dutifully rolled up a sleeve and you stuck the needle into his arm. A few moments later, you placed a cotton ball and gauze tape over it as you took the vial and went back out to your office.

A few moments after you started, you looked out at the sun rising into the morning sky and wondered just what fresh hell waited for you today.