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Stepdad Gets a Pig


twistedfukka

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My biological father was killed in a car accident when I was 10 years old, leaving my mom and me on our own. My mom struggled as a single mom for a couple years, but she was miserable without a man in her life, so it was hardly surprising to me when she started to date again. What was very surprising was that when she finally picked a second husband, she chose Bud. My dad had been an incredibly intelligent, cultured, and soft-spoken academic, and Bud...wasn't. My dad used to spend hours on the weekend absorbed in books, but Bud was more the type to spend hours on a chair in front of the TV, drinking beer (and if we were lucky, he'd be wearing pants). But he was nice to my mom, and nice to me, and my mom stopped worrying all the time and seemed more relaxed. I know that some people, in particular my biological father's family, used to question her decision to remarry so soon and why she chose a man so unlike my father, but she just used to say, "He makes me laugh" and leave it at that. I did overhear her talking to a friend once, who asked the same question, and instead of her usual answer, she replied, "Because when I'm riding his monster cock, I can cum two or three times for every time he does." I didn't really get it at the time, but like I said, she was happy and relaxed, and so I was too.

I asked Bud one time, before he married my mom, what his real name was. He told me that his parents had wanted everyone to like him, so they named him Buddy. But as he got older, he shorted it to Bud. Then he told me how, even though he knew that he could never replace my father, my mom was very important to him, and so that meant that I was very important to him too. He knew that having a man around was very important to a boy in his teen years, so he hoped that I would soon feel comfortable to talk to him about anything. He was so sincere, and my mom was so invested in this new relationship, that I bypassed the stage where most step-kids resent the new man in the house.

Even so, although Bud and I tried, but when it came down to it, we had very little in common. I was very much my father's son: quiet and introspective, shy and lacking confidence, not in the best shape, whereas Bud was loud, brash, in-your-face, a proudly self-proclaimed redneck. Even so he'd pretend to take an interest in my schooling, and I'd pretend to enjoy watching football with him, and we had a friendly relationship, which was a relief because I started having some interesting changes happening to my body around then, and he was right, it was nice having a male friend to talk to about it. He got me through wet dreams and pubic hair, masturbation and shaving, all without a scratch (literally).

It was interesting, but as Bud's and my friendship got stronger, his relationship with my mom got worse and worse, and so did mine. I think that she envisioned that her second marriage would be mostly about the two of them, with me just hovering on the periphery keeping out of their way. But Bud wasn't having that - we were a family unit. So the two of us got closer, and my mom's jealousy drove her further and further away. It got to the point that when I was 16, and I finally admitted to myself that maybe thinking about the quarterback at school while jacking off meant that I was gay, that Bud was the first one that I told. He hugged me, told me that he loved me, and that he was proud of me, and told me that I might want to hold off on telling my mom until things got better. I was so relieved that he was okay with it, given his proud identity as a redneck, but he just told me, "I think of you like my own son. You are mine, and I'm not getting rid of you that easily". This new insider knowledge made us even closer, causing all sorts of whispered conferences just out of mom's hearing, and private jokes - it wasn't that surprising that she packed up and took off one day.

When my mom left, Bud made it clear to everyone, especially me, that he considered me his son and was planning on keeping me with him for the next couple of years until I was 18. I was so relieved that I wasn't going to be uprooted, or lose another parent, but he just hugged me and said, "I told you, I'm not getting rid of you that easily." Since he started working long hours to make up for the loss of the second income, I started picking up my mom's extra work around the house. It wasn't easy, because I kept fucking it up for one reason or another, but Bud was very quick to kindly correct me and get me back on track. He became more and more of a guiding hand over the the next two years, and I spent more and more time with him, because he made me feel good about myself, even though I kept screwing everything up. We talked about college sometimes, and I told him that even though my grades were good enough to go anywhere on a full ride, I wanted to go to the college in town so that I could live at home and take care of him. He agreed to the idea, saying, "I'm not getting rid of you that easily" and chuckling over that old joke. Then, my 18th birthday came around, and everything changed.

I woke up the morning of my 18th birthday to a strange tickling sensation. I was startled to find Bud sitting on my bed, in just his jockeys and his ever-present trucker's cap. It was shocking because Bud had always stressed that my room was MY place, and he never entered without permission, until this morning. He was, as I said, sitting on my bed pretty close to naked (I was completely naked, as I had started sleeping that way every summer), and the tickling sensation was his middle finger, slick with lube, sliding back and forth up and down my ass crack. I was paralyzed by the bizarre nature of the situation, so when Bud put his other finger to his lips in the classic "Shh" signal, I obeyed. Then he slid his finger into my hole, and I had to let out a gasp. Even though I was 18, and had known I was gay since I was 16, I was still a virgin. This, ironically, had been advice from Bud - that you only get one first time, so make sure that it's special. So, Bud's probing digit was the first thing to ever enter my hole, and it wasn't the most pleasant intrusion. I tried to wiggle away, but he put a first grip on the leg closest to him and I was stuck. He figured out when he hit my prostate based on my reaction - my eyes got very wide, and I lost my breath. Then he pulled most of the way out and then slammed his finger into my teen G spot again...and again...and again. After three minutes of this, my dick decided it couldn't take anymore and I came, sobbing a little with the intensity of it.

I was pretty sure at this point, because I knew with 100% certainty that Bud was straight, that this was a really vivid wet dream - like a birthday present from the universe. So when he reached out and scooped up my cum off my chest, and held it out to me on dripping fingers, I obediently opened my mouth and starting sucking his hand clean. I heard from his end of the bed the snap of a cap, and the pop of a Ziploc bag opening, but was so focused on doing a good job that I didn't pay attention until his fingers (this time middle and index) slid into me again. This time the intrusion burned more than before, and it staying warm even after the initial burn. In fact, by the time he was deep as my prostate again, my whole ass felt like it was smoldering. The shock from my prostate felt ten times better, and when he pulled all the way out, my ass had never felt so empty. The pop of the Ziploc again, and his fingers were back - this time the smoldering turned into a full-on blaze of lust. My ass needed to be filled, and stretched, and used. I was making little noises in the back of my throat, and when he pulled his fingers out of my hole again, they got louder.

Bud smiled, and wiping his lubed fingers on his jockeys, he stood up and came to loom over me. I could see his enormous bulge straining at his briefs, and I remembered, as a kid, hearing my mom use the term 'monster cock', but the feeling from my ass was making it hard to focus on anything but how empty my ass was. He looked down at me and smiled, saying, "I've been waiting for this day for some time now, boy. I thought about it often enough, and almost jumped the gun a couple of times, but I realize that it is very important for your development that you understand that this is a choice, and that you are an adult, and aren't being manipulated or victimized, so that when you decide to embrace it, you know that it was your choice, okay?" My head was starting to spin, too much for me to really understand what he was saying, but I felt I had to acknowledge him somehow, so I grunted. He continued, "The choice is that you can either tell me to fuck off right now, and I'll leave and we'll forget this ever happened, or you can ask me to stay, but that means that you do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that I say. It's your choice." My head was spinning even harder now, and I was desperate for some physical contact to hang on to, so I started groping blindly in his direction, which is how I grabbed hold of his cock. My mom was right - it was a monster. He laughed and pulled my hand off, holding me firmly by the wrist, saying, "I need to hear the words, boy - either go or stay." I focused as hard as I could and gasped out "stay" - whatever he had planned couldn't be worse than this isolated, horny, bizarre spinning feeling. Bud feigned confusion, "Sorry, couldn't quite catch that..." I was sobbing again, the feelings of lust and emptiness so strong within me, and so I sobbed out a much louder and definite "Please stay". When he chuckled, it froze my blood - I had never heard him sound so...well...evil was the best way to describe it. He shucked his underpants, and his monster cock sprung free. Then he pulled my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes, and said, "You asked for it, faggot."

Coming soon - part 2.

Edited by Hotload84
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Step-Dad Gets a Pig - Part 2 (thanks for the edits and the comment, Hotload84!)

Bud smiled, and wiping his lubed fingers on his jockeys, he stood up and came to loom over me. I could see his enormous bulge straining at his briefs, and I remembered, as a kid, hearing my mom use the term 'monster cock', but the feeling from my ass was making it hard to focus on anything but how empty my ass was. He looked down at me and smiled, saying, "I've been waiting for this day for some time now, boy. I thought about it often enough, and almost jumped the gun a couple of times, but I realize that it is very important for your development that you understand that this is a choice, and that you are an adult, and aren't being manipulated or victimized, so that when you decide to embrace it, you know that it was your choice, okay?" My head was starting to spin, too much for me to really understand what he was saying, but I felt I had to acknowledge him somehow, so I grunted. He continued, "The choice is that you can either tell me to fuck off right now, and I'll leave and we'll forget this ever happened, or you can ask me to stay, but that means that you do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that I say. It's your choice." My head was spinning even harder now, and I was desperate for some physical contact to hang on to, so I started groping blindly in his direction, which is how I grabbed hold of his cock. My mom was right - it was a monster. He laughed and pulled my hand off, holding me firmly by the wrist, saying, "I need to hear the words, boy - either go or stay." I focused as hard as I could and gasped out "stay" - whatever he had planned couldn't be worse than this isolated, horny, bizarre spinning feeling. Bud feigned confusion, "Sorry, couldn't quite catch that..." I was sobbing again, the feelings of lust and emptiness so strong within me, and so I sobbed out a much louder and definite "Please stay". When he chuckled, it froze my blood - I had never heard him sound so...well...evil was the best way to describe it. He shucked his underpants, and his monster cock sprung free. Then he pulled my chin so that I was looking directly into his eyes, and said, "You asked for it, faggot."

There was a tiny cricket voice in the back of my head that spoke up then, pointing out that when your supposedly straight, self-proclaimed redneck step-dad calls you "faggot", a sudden rush of arousal is not the typical response - you should be feeling fear or anger. But whatever Bud had done to my ass was rapidly spreading fire through my body, and I couldn't think clearly at all. It also might have had something to do with Bud's monster cock, which I was just seeing for the first time in 6 years. It was thick, and veined, and slightly paler than the skin that was exposed to the sun, straight as a rod, and thick as the handle of a tennis racket. I was having trouble focusing my eyes, so while I could see markings on it, possibly tattoos, I couldn't tell what they were. Bud pulled my chin again, forcing my eyes off his cock and into his own penetrating icy blue gaze. "Eyes up, boy", he said, "you aren't ready for that yet." I think that the sounds that emerged from me at that point could best be described as a whimper - I'm not certain, since I'd never made such a primal animal sound before. He gripped my chin even tighter. "You do everything I say, right?" he said, "that was the agreement." Again, that cricket voice piped up again, but I was on fire and knew that if I didn't get his fingers, or cock, or even the fucking bedpost into my ass soon, I was going to lose it - so I stomped on that little cricket in my head, and nodded my affirmation. He stared at me for a second, gauging something, then spat in my face. I would have jerked back, except for his tight hold on my chin. He kept the grip on, and with his other hand, he wiped the saliva into my face, into my pores. "Good boy," he said, his voice grumbling low in a way that went straight to my burning hole, "you barely flinched. Now stay put and don't move a muscle."

Not moving a muscle when your body is on fire with lust and a prime specimen of manhood is walking away from you, monster cock hanging free, is more complicated than it sounds. But Bud had told me to do it, and I had agreed to do everything he said, so I held it together as best I could. Bud came back into view quickly, which meant that he couldn't have stepped away much further than my dresser. He returned with some items that I recognized from the porn that I watched secretly, a couple of dildos of various sizes and a butt-plug, I think it was. He also had a little brown bottle filled with liquid, and a mirror with some powder and a straw. At the site of this (I'm not totally stupid and naive) the Ziploc sound and the now overwhelming feeling of burning lust clicked together. "Booty bump", I croaked out, and he grinned a little. "So, boy," he said, grinning, "you aren't as innocent as all that. That's going to make this so much fucking easier." He pulled the Ziploc out, and I could see it was half full of crystal shards and half full of powder. "This, boy," he said, gesturing at the bag, "is meth, also known as Tina, XTina, or T. I, personally, call it pig feed. You are currently feeling it's effects, since I made sure to coat my fingers pretty heavily in powder the last two times I shoved them into your hole. That means, boy, that you are currently flying - but it gets so much better." While he spoke, he took the smaller of the two dildos, and drizzled some lube on it. He started rubbing the lube in, and my cock, though curiously limp, started tingling like he was rubbing the lube into my own skin. He finished lubing it up, and set it down on the flat end. He then looked into my eyes, and whatever he saw there must have encouraged him, because he said, "Okay, faggot, let's get started giving you what you asked for."

Bud pulled me from my horizontal position into a sitting up position on the bed. Luckily, this allowed me to lean back into the wall that was behind me. Bud grabbed my dangling legs and shoved them onto the bed, which tilted me back enough to leave my hole accessible. I was still, well, "flying" was the term Bud used, by reality was gripping me tighter with each passing second. I was starting to accurately gauge the situation, and just beginning to freak out - and even more alarming was the fact that I was so freaked out by the fact that I wasn't really that freaked out. Bud reached for something I hadn't noticed before, four leather straps. Two of these he gently placed on my ankles and two on my wrists. He then hooked my ankles to my wrists, right to right and left to left. "Just in case," he smirked. I tested the restraints, and discovered all I could do in them was lift my legs higher and wider apart, leaving my hole more exposed. Bud picked up the lubed dildo, and rubbed it gently on my hole. I made a little noise at the back of my throat. He took the dildo, opened the Ziploc and swirled it around inside. He pulled it out and in the morning light I could see tiny shards and powder stuck to the lube. He then put the head of the dildo just at the opening of my hole, and left it there. I almost lost it, so close and yet miles away. He then picked up the bottle, and shook it. "A little more persuasion," he said, "I'm going to place the mouth of this bottle under your right nostril and close your left. You are going to inhale until I tell you to stop, got it? Then we'll do the other nostril." I nodded, because I couldn't think of any other response.

Bud twisted open the top of the bottle, breaking the plastic seal. He covered my left nostril, and the bottle went under the right. I tried inhaling, but the unfamiliar chemical odor had me shying away. Bud held firm, and said, "I told you to inhale, faggot - now do it, and keep doing it until I tell you to fucking stop!" His sharp command brought me to my senses and I started drawing in huge breaths of this chemical haze into my nostril. After three or four deep inhalations, he switched nostrils. At this point, another unfamiliar lusty feeling was creeping over me, and I calculated that it was coming from that little brown bottle. I started inhaling deeper and deeper, only stopping when he pulled away. I laid back to enjoy the new sense of warm euphoria creeping over me, but I could hear the chuckle in his voice as he put the lid back on the bottle. "I was right - you were born for this, boy". The problem now was the dildo. I knew that it was just grazing my hole, because I was becoming more and more aware of it's presence every second, but Bud was making no move to insert it. Instead, he reached down for the mirror, and picked up the straw. "This," he said, gesturing at the powder on the mirror and in the little bag, "this is quality shit that I got from one of those Mexican garbage men who do our neighborhood. Remember, boy, Mexicans know their quality shit when it comes to narcotics." There were four lines on the mirror. "Two for you and two for me, boy." Bud said, "I'm just going to show you how it's done." He took the short straw and ran it along one of the lines of powder, inhaling sharply and sucking it up through the straw into his nose. Then he demonstrated on another. Then he took the straw, shoved it up my right nostril, and held the mirror underneath. Now, normally I wouldn't have dare to try, but I was feeling horny and messed up from that little brown bottle, so I mimicked Bud and inhaled. The powder flew up my nose, burning my nostril, nasal passages and sinuses. Before I could think, Bud swapped nostrils and lines, and I repeated the action. Now totally spun, when he held the mirror to my lips and said, "Lick it clean, boy", I was frantic to get the last little particles of powder, because it felt so fucking good.

"Now", he said, pulling my desk chair to the middle of the room, and sitting down in it, "Now comes the fun part. I want to see you fuck yourself with that dildo. Technically, you could still be considered a virgin by some, with just finger penetration. So, I want to see you take your own virginity...you and you alone. Show me how much you want cock." Even through my euphoric fog, I could feel the doubt rising. Yeah, the dildo was just outside my hole, but I was restrained. How the fuck did he expect me to fuck myself? I made a couple desperate noises in the back of my throat, but Bud just sat back and started stroking his cock. Desperately, I tried to slide down on the dildo, but there was nothing to stop it from just sliding away. Then, I had a brainstorm - folding my leg so that it was at the end of the dildo to keep it from moving (which required some contortion) I got the dildo back to my hole, just barely inside it. Then, I slid up the wall as far as I could go, getting a higher angle on the dildo, and suddenly it all came together. The dildo, stuck to my hole, finally got upright underneath it, and I slid down onto it. If I had been a sober virgin, or not been restrained, I probably wouldn't have, as a virgin, taken the whole thing in one go. As it was, the sound that came out of me as it hit home was definitely a squeal. Bud leaned back in his chair, this shit-eating grin on his face, and said, "Fuck yeah, faggot."

Coming soon - part 3

Edited by twistedfukka
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"Now", he said, pulling my desk chair to the middle of the room, and sitting down in it, "Now comes the fun part. I want to see you fuck yourself with that dildo. Technically, you could still be considered a virgin by some, with just finger penetration. So, I want to see you take your own virginity...you and you alone. Show me how much you want cock." Even through my euphoric fog, I could feel the doubt rising. Yeah, the dildo was just outside my hole, but I was restrained. How the fuck did he expect me to fuck myself? I made a couple desperate noises in the back of my throat, but Bud just sat back and started stroking his cock. Desperately, I tried to slide down on the dildo, but there was nothing to stop it from just sliding away. Then, I had a brainstorm - folding my leg so that it was at the end of the dildo to keep it from moving (which required some contortion) I got the dildo back to my hole, just barely inside it. Then, I slid up the wall as far as I could go, getting a higher angle on the dildo, and suddenly it all came together. The dildo, stuck to my hole, finally got upright underneath it, and I slid down onto it. If I had been a sober virgin, or not been restrained, I probably wouldn't have, as a virgin, taken the whole thing in one go. As it was, the sound that came out of me as it hit home was definitely a squeal. Bud leaned back in his chair, this shit-eating grin on his face, and said, "Fuck yeah, faggot."

I don’t know that I could put into words the feeling of being high as a fucking kite and slamming your virgin-ish ass straight onto a dildo. If you’ve never done it, you just can’t understand. For those of you who have done it, you’ll never forget the feeling. I’m not actually sure how much time passed with me just zoning into the feeling before Bud leaned forward and said, “Hey boy, that hole isn’t going to fuck itself”. This presented the next problem – how was I, restrained ankle to wrist on both sides, impaled on a dildo with no leverage, going to fuck myself? The chemicals in my system, and the chemicals just introduced into my system by the dildo, mixed together to provide a brainstorm. Beds, I thought, have mattresses and box springs. Box springs, I thought, have, well, springs. Springs, I concluded triumphantly, make you bounce. Much to Bud’s delight, I managed to slowly start to bounce myself up and down on the bed, which succeeded in making the dildo slide in and out just enough to give my hole the sensation of being fucked. Bud sat back and grinned, “Nature always finds a way, right boy?” I grunted in response, caught up in the intensity of the action.

The interesting thing that hadn’t occurred to me at this point was that the entire time, ever since being woken up to my step-dad playing with my ass, I hadn’t spoken more than two words, sticking entirely to animalistic noises. There was no gag or any other impediment to speaking, I was just too caught up in everything to enunciate my feelings verbally. Something else that I hadn’t really focused on was the fact that despite my cock being out of commission (I seem to recall that happening to some people when they “partied”), I did get some blood rushing to it every time Bud called me “boy” or “faggot” in a derogatory tone. Of course, I guess if I overanalyzed everything, it would take quite a lot of the enjoyment out of it.

I had my eyes closed, so caught up in the chemically induced sexual euphoria and making certain that the dildo bouncing in and out of my hole was hitting all the rights spots, that I didn’t notice that Bud had stopped his masturbating, gotten out of the chair, and come to stand over me again. Actually my first clue was when a hand was place on either one of my shoulders and he shoved me down on the dildo, hard. I don’t think I had ever felt such an intense moment of pain and pleasure so completely balanced, and if my cock had been in full working order, I would have shot the biggest load you’ve ever seen. As it was, the feeling just kept going and going, and I was definitely whimpering as Bud forced me to look into his eyes again. “You went from virgin to fucking whore in 60 seconds, didn’t you, boy? I’m impressed”, he said. More pressure on my shoulders led to louder whimpering. His cold blue eyes narrowed, “Now, you’ve been making entirely too much noise, boy. I think we need to keep your mouth occupied.” He stroked his monster cock a couple times, and I think I gurgled in the back of my throat. “First though,” he said, “I think you have outgrown this tiny toy, don’t you?”

He pushed me so that my back was against the wall again, and my hole, filled with the dildo, was exposed. He took the end of the dildo in his hand, and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “This is probably going to fucking hurt, boy,” he said, “but something tells me that you’ll like it.” Then he jerked the dildo out of my hole in one swift, painful pull. All I had time for was a gasp before it felt like the air had been knocked out of me. It wasn’t even really the pain that I minded so much as the feeling of being empty, because I knew that I needed to be filled. But then there were Bud’s fingers, three of them this time, and since they tingled and burned where they passed, I knew that he was giving me more “pig feed” as he like to call it. I lost myself a little in the enjoyment of feeling his fingers slide further and further in.

While his one hand was occupied he grabbed my chin again with the other and we looked into each other’s eyes. “You are just loving this, you faggot,” he said, “you haven’t even noticed that I’m keeping my hand still and you are the one shoving yourself further onto it.” Another moment, and he ordered, “Open your mouth.” It was pretty much impossible for me not to obey Bud’s orders at this point, so I did. He looked at me again, gauging me I think, and then calmly spat a huge gob of saliva into my mouth. “Swallow, boy” he sharply ordered, so I did. That made him grin. “Fucking faggot boy,” he grinned, “Nature at her finest.” Then he pulled his fingers out.

“I think it’s time,” he said, “to graduate you to the big boy dildo, and to see how well you handle being filled up at both ends.” He unhooked the restraints on my wrists and ankles, and I let out a disappointed little moan, since I had quite enjoyed being in bondage. “I know, boy,” he said, “but you need to show me just how badly you want all of this, and in order to do that, you have to be an active participant. Now, faggot, get on all fours.” I scrambled to obey, and he chuckled. “Fucking faggot,” was all he said. Then he picked up the larger of the two dildos, and put some lube on it, and moved around to my hole. “Now, boy,” he said, “this is going to want to slip out, but you have to keep those ass muscles tight to make certain that doesn’t happen.” With that, he slid it in. I think that my eyes must have rolled back into my head at the feeling of such fullness. A little sigh of contentment passed through my lips, and Bud chuckled again. Once the dildo was in place, he smacked my ass, and said, “Remember, boy, it has to stay there.” Then, he moved around so that I was face to, well, monster cock. “Open wide, boy,” he said, “It’s time for the advanced course.”

Coming soon, part 4.

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