Work Text:
One might say it was like a never ending game of Simon Says, except it was impossible for Dylan to lose or escape, for every word that Norman now spoke became law for his older half-brother, and Dylan couldn't disobey his brother's desires and demands no mater how much he wanted to.
Dylan's eyes were closed as he stood in the doorway to the dinning room, waiting for his brother's order to reopen them. Norman had said he had a special surprise for Dylan, and with some of the surprises Norman had for him in the last year, he wasn't particularly excited.
"Open them" Norman said, and Dylan did, and immediately wanted to throw up, and would have too if Norman hadn't had taken that bodily function away from him with just a few simple words back during the summer. He closed his eyes again though, and quickly reopened them, hoping that it was just an illusion, but it was still there.
"Dont you love it, I think it's some of my best work to date" Norman said pleased with himself. Dylan wanted to ask why, but knew better by now than to question any of his master brother's weird doings. So instead Dylan lied through his teeth with a "yeah".
Dylan wanted to take his eyes off of it but he couldn't. Before him, lying face up on the dinning table was his father unmoving. But his father had died a week ago, and this was his corpse, except it was easy to see that Norman had done his taxidermy thing to the body. And if that wasn't bad enough, he was as naked as the other stuffed animals through out the manor, and the corpse had a thick erection strutting out between his legs that would forever remain that way.
Dylan's eyes traveled up and down the corpse, taking in every inch of the sight till his eyes came to rest on that groin and he found his eyes glued there. A son never needed to see his father's cock, no mater if the father was dead or alive.
"You know I made him especially for you Dylan"
"You didn't need to go through all that trouble"
"Of course I did, you're my brother. Now that Mothers gone, you and Gunnar are all I have. Now why don't you try him out?"
"What do you mean?" Dylan was so hoping his mind had jumped to the wrong conclusion.
"Silly, I'd didn't spend all that time on his cock for no reason."
"Please Norman, you cant make me, not this." But Norman wasn't listening, he was instead walking up to the petrified corpse and running his hand over the shaved, still chest of his Dylan's father.
"It's such a shame you didn't get to enjoy the wonders of your father's cock while he was still alive. Now you'll have the opportunity to enjoy it all the time when your not enjoying me and Gunnar's."
"Please Norman, you want me to suck your cock, I will happily, just don't make me..."
"Nothing to be worried about Dylan, your going to absolutely love it. Don't you know by now that your ass is there only to serve cock, and what better cock to have stuffed up there than the one that gave you life. Now Dylan, Norman says impale yourself on your father's cock"
Dylan was filled with dread, he knew there was no getting out of this now. He began to obey, or more like his body did without his say so. He bent down and with his hands pushed the pair of bright pink, silk panties he had been wearing down to his ankles. Dylan missed his boxers, missed being able to actually wear clothes when he went out in public. Now he had to wear pink panties around the house and down at the hotel when he was working down there. Norman also had thongs for him to wear too, that showed off his butt well. And whenever it was time for them to be washed, instead of using a wash machine, Norman made him hand-wash them in the bathtub, using Norman's piss in place of water. No mater where-ever he went when wearing them, he always smelled of Norman's piss, as if Norman was a dog who had marked Dylan his territory.
Dylan climbed on top of the table and stood for a second over his father's corpse before he moved to his father's hips and began to lower himself slowly. He was facing the doorway he had just came in from, his father's feet in his line of view, but then Norman told him to turn the other way and Dylan cursed in his mind as he turned to face the head.
The lifeless, hard cock of his father, forever preserved through taxidermy, was just inches from his hole, and as he pushed himself further down he felt the cock's head begin to part his cheeks and soon it was against opening of the well used ring of muscle that Dylan called his ass hole. Tears fell down his eyes as his body forced itself onward, and the head pushed through the ring easily, had he been still an anal virgin this would have been rather difficult, but due to Norman and his boyfriend having coated his inner ass with semen a few hours earlier his ass was well lubed.
Dylan closed his eyes as he pushed the hard cock deeper and deeper into his anal cavity until he finally bottomed out and was actually sitting on his father's unnaturally cold, naked lap, the cock embedded within and the bush of pubic hair tickling his ass cheeks where the two met.
"Well come on Dylan, fuck yourself. How do you expect to have an orgasm if you just sit there?"
Dylan placed his hands against the table and used them to help balance himself as he began to push himself up off the cock. As he was going up he felt the strangest of stings on the back of his neck. He didn't think twice about it as he continued with his job and began thrusted himself back down on the cock, trying to angle it deeper within him so that it could hit the prostate within him and he could cum as soon as possible and be done with this. He'd much rather be dead like his father than doing this, but that wasn't an option, and since he wasn't allowed to touch his own cock the prostate was his only option.
He could feel that his cock was already hard and sticking out in front of him. Well it didn't stick out that far in front of him any more. He use to be as well hung as his father apparently is, growing up in the gym showers when boys naturally compared their equipment to the other boys (and not in any gay way) he had always been the largest in the class, but now that wasn't the case any more. Some how over the past year-and-a-half his dick had been slowly shrinking. It had taken him a while to notice the shrinking at all. Now he is down to barely four inches long, and who knows if his cock is going to keep shrinking or not.
He pushed himself back up with more speed this time and plummeted himself back down on the cock. He had forgotten for a second just how much he had loved to have his ass filled with a cock. There was nothing better than having...wait a minute that wasn't right. He hated having his ass fucked, and hated it even more when he had to do all the work. He hated swallowing down cum, or having his mouth used as an urinal and all the other degrading things Norman had him do. Or did he?
As Dylan came back down he hit that magical spot in his ass and was filled with a wave of pleasure. How could he not love this? This was what he was born for, this was what he was put on this earth for. He should be praising and thanking his little brother for showing him just how filthy and disgusting he was meant to be, for showing him his rightful place in the world. Why had he fought against this?
He brought himself back up and then back down at a quicker pace, jabbing the dead cock inside him at that magical spot again. Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead as reluctance left him and he began to ride the petrified cock as if he could actually get it to orgasm in him if he rode it hard enough. He licked his dry lips and wished that his mouth was full also, wished that Norman's cock was humping his mouth while he was humping his own father's groin. What was wrong with him? How could he want such a thing? This wasn't him! He didn't want any of this. This was all rape, the whole past year was nothing but never ending rape through manipulation and mind control via his little, unhinged brother. But could it actually be considered rape when he was nothing but a cock whore deep down? He had always been a cock whore hadn't he? This was the real him. He had been denying himself the only thing that really even mattered in life, cocks. He shouldn't hate his brother for everything he had done to him this past year-and-a-half, if anything he should love the guy even more for bringing out his true nature. Norman had been right to enslave him, he needed to be dominated, put in his place, shown the error of his previous, straight ways.
He was grinding himself into the cock harder and faster than anytime he had fucked a cock before. It felt so right to be full, to be fucking himself on his father's cock like a bitch in heat. The word bitch kept repeating itself in his mind as if it was trying to brand itself there permanently into his soul.
Dylan whimpered. The last tiny bit of resistance left within him seeped out of his body through the tears falling down from eyes. He was on the edge and then there was the familiar squeeze in his balls and his seed was shooting out of his short cock in string after string of hot semen. One would have though he had a lake built up in his balls with how much semen he shot out and onto his father's chest. He had never came so hard in his life, or ejaculated so much.
His chest was pounding and he was gasping for breath. It had been a hard work out but it had been worth it. As he came down from the high that the orgasm gave him he felt a great sorrow. He wished his father was here for real. He wished he could show his father just how good of a bitch he was. He wished he could feel his father's cock up his ass while the man was still living, feel his dad's hot seed shoot deep inside him, or taste the seed on his tongue.
Norman handed Dylan a glass with a cloudy, clearish liquid pooled in the bottom. There wasn't much of whatever it was though. He was tempted to ask what it was, but a good submissive would do that right?
"While I was working on your father, I managed to extract the remainder of your father's semen from his testicles just for you" Norman said and Dylan couldn't love his brother any more at the moment than he did for the gift he was given.
Dylan lifted the glass and let the semen pour into his mouth and right onto his tongue where he savored its bitter taste for as long as he could. He was tasting the seed that had gave him life and he couldn't imagine how it could be any better.
After a minute of savoring Dylan finally let the semen travel on down his throat as he unmounted himself from his father's forever hard cock and positioned himself so he could begin licking up the mess that he had made on his father's chest.
One thing was for sure, Dylan would never resist his brother's orders again.
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Ez watched as the former heterosexual licked his own seed off his father's corpse. Ez was filled with pride, he couldn't take credit for this work here though, he wasn't responsible. His oldest son Kazarok had been here originally and set this all up, it had been his manipulation that had taught these two brothers (and that boy Gunnar) a new definition to the game Simon Says.
Ez enjoyed checking up on his sons' work through out all the timelines and realities. It made him a proud father to see his sons do such great work. And yeah, so he had just made a few alterations, but it was only to enhance the work Kazarok had already accomplished. Seeing the older brother struggle with his newish life like that had pulled at Ez's dark-heart strings. A simple arrow made the stud accepting of his fate. The stud needed to understand that he was a submissive now and forever.