Harshly

As I continue licking and kissing my father's cock, I feel Mom's crown against my ass. My spine arches immediately and I look over my shoulder, but before I can speak, smack! Dad's hand cracks across my face, forcing it back toward his cock.

“I didn't give you permission to stop, faggot!” Dad scolds me, “Focus on your job! It's your only reason for existing, now!” My eyes flutter, and I freely return my mouth to his cock, licking and kissing his meat even as Mom grinds against me.

I can feel her readying my ass for her cock, using her lubricated crown. I don't know why, but I don't object, I just kneel with my ass up, worshipping my father's cock. I'd never had even the faintest fantasy of this before, but it doesn't matter.

I feel Mom's fingers tense as she clamps down on my hips, my only warning. Then, in one cruel, savage thrust of her hips, Mom slams her cock to the hilt inside me, her nuts and hips slapping against my ass with an audible crack as I yelp in pain.

Smack! Dad's hand snaps across my face, “Shut up and do your job you stupid little brainwashed faggot! Fags don't have an expectation of tenderness!”

I quickly bring my mouth back to Dad's cock, resuming licking and kissing as I whine softly in pain, as Mom pulls back and then slams in again. I grunt softly against my father's meat, as Mom's drives back in with another smack of hips to my ass.

“That's it, you tight little faggot!” Mom snarls with arousal, gripping my hips tight, but not enough to be painful, opposite of her pace. I arch in pain, but take it with only a weakening whine as my body is forced to rapidly adjust to being fucked.

“Good boy, faggot,” Dad praises me, and I smile up at him, licking him from the base to the crown, before kissing my way back down again. “Fuck, this is wonderful. Never even thought about how nice it'd be to simply have our own faggot slut.”

When Mom's cock starts to grind across my prostate and pleasure starts to override pain, my brain starts to rewire further in reorientation. With Dad's hand in my hair, I move mine to his hips to steady himself as I start to sway for Mom's slams.

“Mister and Misses Grennan?” Amy's voice calls from the kitchen.

—

Author's Note:
Please click LIKE if you are enjoying these chapters.