FSE

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Grunter was a stubborn old bull of a man, in the literal sense. The red furred, well built and thickly muscled 45 year old sat, naked as the day he was born, on his brand new white couch. It might have seemed odd to most that a man would sit around naked, much worse dripping with sweat from his previous workout, as he waited for his 18 year old son to come home from school. However, in the case of Grunter, every action he made was calculated and pre-planned out. There was a reason he was beginning to soak the poor, creaking coach with his sweat, knowing that the stain marks would be all too visible for years to come. Yes, they would be a constant reminder of what happened on this night.

Stanley stepped off the bus, thanking the driver, as he always did, for driving the extra few miles to his home out in the countryside. However, Stan's respect for authority, and his entire demeanor for that matter, changed as he stepped off that bus and started the haul up towards his father's ranch. The blue jeans and white t-shirt clad, red furred bull-jock used to love thinking that his father was a hard working, honest farmer. It had only been a week ago that he'd caught his father fucking the shit out of one of his classmates in a small shed behind their home. Stephanie the fox. Stan knew her name well. She was the brightest girl in his math class, and despite only being 18, the young fox seemed to have her whole future planned out ahead of her. Best of all was her beauty, unmatched in their small town. She was the best thing about going to school for young Stanley, so it had come as quite a shock to hear her moaning so genuinely while stuck underneath his own rutting, bellowing father as he'd walked in on them. The image of those two fat, red calf-makers tensing rhythmically, almost dancing, as they pumped rich seed into the squirting, screaming vulpine was burned into Stanley's mind, and he'd given his father absolute hell for it every day since. However, Stanley would be lying if he said he didn't also notice just how rock hard, and perfectly sculpted his bodybuilder father's ass was, as it hung in the air, on proud display above his sex. Unfortunately for Stanley, big as he was, his father was much bigger, so he'd been mostly using passive-aggressive means to get back at his father throughout the week, doing his best to avoid direct conflict. However, all of that changed the moment he walked through his front door and found his father splayed out, naked on the couch, the old beefcake casually smoking one of his patented cigarettes. "Welcome home, sport."

The sound of Stanley's backpack hitting the ground echoed throughout the otherwise silent house, the noise followed only by the sound of burning embers as the older bull inhaled from his cigarette. The two males were locked in each other's gaze, still as statues, but undoubtedly more alive than either had felt in a long time. This was the conclusion that the week had been building towards, but only one of the men knew exactly how it would end.

"D... Dad???" Stan finally spoke, eyebrows raising as he stared over the raw, naked and sweat slick figure of his father. "What the hell is this???" The words left the late-teens mouth as his eyes scanned down, from those leering black eyes to that beefy torso and lower before finally landing, and lingering, on that 12 inch, blood red breeding tool.

Grunter said nothing, letting his cold, dark gaze do all the talking as the smell of salty, vinegar-esque musk began to slowly make it's way to Stanley's nostrils. "Why are you naked, and why does it smell SO bad in he-." That's when Stanley's words were cut off, as his father spoke for the first time.

"It SMELLS like a man. A real man. A man whose worked up a sweat from a long day of training. A man whose musk roars just as strongly as he does. A man with testicles so large, heavy and potent that females come running from neighboring cities just to be bred. That's a scent you know NOTHING about." Grunter spat, letting the saliva barely miss his erect, low hanging 12 incher and stain the white couch. The first saliva stain of many, Grunter thought as he continued. "Now come here, boy. Kneel before your father, and take a good, long look at what it takes to be a man."

"Daddy, ooh, uh, I mean Dad..." Stanley corrected himself as he brought his eyes up from those sweat slick 6 pack abs to meet his father's expectant gaze. "You're not the pinnacle of masculinity you think you are." Stan said, even as his feet began to move. "You're just a big, heartless DICK." Grunter smirked at that, as Stanley moved to stand in front of his father. "Just a stubborn old bull who feels the need to fuck other people's girls..." Stanley trailed off as his knees hit the floor, his head now between his father's meaty red thighs. "You want to know what I see when I look at you?" Stanley asked as he reached up to grab the throbbing, red beer can of a cock in his fist. "An old breeding bull, whose fat, fertle balls just don't know when to quit!" Stanley moaned before his lips wrapped around that dick.

"DAD!"

The sound of his son's voice broke Grunter from his fantasy.

"I am NOT kneeling before you, as if you're some kind of king! ESPECIALLY when you're lounging around naked like some sort of drugged up-"

BAM.

The sound of Grunter's mighty, red fist hitting the wooden coffee table echoed throughout the house, before the big man snuffed out his cigarette and stood, quickly crossing the distance.

"Woah dad I didn't mean-" Stanley scrambled, trying to find the words to calm his quickly approaching, clearly pissed off father, but it was too late.

With that mighty red hand clamped over his mouth, Stanly was forced to look into the cold, steel eyes of a rabid bull as his father leaned in and bellowed a single word, "SILENCE!", before taking his son by the scruff of his shirt, and beginning to drag the flailing young jock effortlessly towards the couch.

"DAD LET ME GO! THIS IS CRAZY!" Were the words that the young bull tried to cry out, but with that meaty, sweaty hand covering his maw, all that came out were muffled groans before he was thrown, back-first, onto the couch, legs draped off the seat. "Daddy! DADDY! WOAH! WOA-" Were the last words Stanley was able to muster before his father's firm, beef jerky tight ass was seated, proudly and firmly, over the top of his face. The motion was followed by the big man reaching forward to crack open a fresh beer and letting out a loud sigh as he settled into his new seat.

"MMFF! MMMFGH!!!" Stanly shouted into the deep, rich and musky valley of rock hard man ass that was forced around his face. The young bull tried to reach up, to flex his muscles and press his father's ass up and off of him, only instead to give the bigger man's ass little more than a massage.

"So, what do you think of your new hobby, sport? You enjoying your first lesson on what qualities make a real man? I think that once you get the scent part down, we'll work on how a man talks, er, at least, how a man uses his mouth. Yeah. I think that'll suit you better." Grunter huffed gently as he continued to relax. The man's 12 inches of semi-hard beef pulsated idly in patient anticipation. Meanwhile, his musk-filled asshole was getting stretched unintentionally, slowly but surely, by his son's panic-based struggles.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Stan tried to shout, to whine, but the noises were all mixed together while muffled underneath that marble-esque ass. Why was his father doing this? Would he really go to such extremes to maintain dominance over his own son? The simple answer was yes, but Stanly still didn't know the half of it.

"This is how it's going to be every day." Grunter stated casually, matter-of-factly as his eyes returned to the television. He'd never been a fan of these cooking shows, but something about his current blissful situation just made them seem so relaxing.

Stanley screamed out in horror as those rock hard ass cheeks sagged down further on each side of his head. He could taste it now. Pure, salty man-musk, with a strong side of vinegar. The stench alone made the young man's eyes water, but the taste did much worse. Stanley felt his head spin, even as it was held firmly in place underneath his father's rock hard ass, as blood began to flow irregularly throughout his body.

Grunter was just chuckling at one of the half-assed jokes on the television when he saw a slight obstruction near the bottom of the screen. Glancing down, Grunter raised an eyebrow to see the tent in his son's jeans. "It seems you're adapting to your new position better than I thought! You like it down there, sport?" Grunter teased as he tilted his head to look down at his son. The corresponding, angry shouts only brought a smirk of deep satisfaction to the old bull's face, as well as a pleasant, wet, tingling feeling to his asshole.

It was only when the shouting finally started to die down, a full twenty minutes later, that Grunter finally began to consider letting his son out from under him. "Hey, sport?" Grunter knocked on his son's jeans-clad thigh as if it were a door, watching that involuntarily bulging cock twitch in it's denim confines. "I think I'm gonna let out out now, how does that sound?"

The response was a loud, agonized whail as the trapped musclejock began to spasm and flail in a desperate, impatient rush for his freedom.

"Eh, on second thought, I think I'll keep you down there a little longer." Grunter smirked, cracking open another beer as the whails grew to the loudest volume yet.

It was an hour later when Grunter finally stood, letting the slumped, sweat-slick face of his son free. The old man didn't bother to look at his son, knowing the boy was well beyond knocked out. Grunter strode to the bathroom to take a leak, before stopping by the fridge to grab himself another 6 pack and finally returned to the couch. This time, that big, meaty red ass missed the boy's face by a mere couple inches, as Grunter calmly worked his erection to full stiffness.

"Ungh... ugghhh... ackkk..." Stanly finally started to sputter, snort and groan as the sound of soft, wet cock-beating awoke him from his less than pleasant slumber. "Wha... What hap..." were the only words Stanly was able to mutter in his daze before his jaw was grabbed, clenched in his father's mighty left hand, his hair in the right. Before Stanly knew what was going on, his face was guided towards that meaty red bull cock, which entered his mouth with a loud pop.

"Shut yer mouth an' get to suckin' boy. You've got a long way to go before you earn talkin' priviledges." Grunter snorted as he pressed the boy's head down further onto his crotch, licking his lips as he heard, felt and watched the previously defiant muscleboy spasm and gag.

"Your new job starts tomorrow. I've already scheduled several appointments with eager customers, and we're going to make sure we don't disappoint them. Got it?"

The following response was a loud, panicked gasp as Stanly pulled his musky face off his father's cock and looked up, wide eyed, to meet his gaze. However, before Stanly could offer a single word to question what exactly his father meant, his mouth was quickly pulled back onto that greedy pole.

"That's what you fancy literary boys call a rhetorical question, sport. You're going to do a fine job serving as my new breeding heffer. All the eager studs from around the state are gonna come and pay me to fill your ass. Essentially, you're going to double my business. I'll get all the pussy."

Stanly moaned loudly as a spurt of precum shot violently across his tongue.

"And you'll get all the dick." Grunter hummed in satisfaction. "Now, we just gotta get you ass trained." The big bull finally pulled his son off of that now saliva-shined breeding tool and, grabbing the boy by the hair, began to drag him out the back door of the farmhouse.

"NO! NO! NO NO NO! NO DADDY I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS! STOP IT PLEASE!!!" Stan squealed, spitting out droplets of ass sweat between his cries.

The door to the old backyard woodshed swung open with a loud 'THUNK' as Grunter wrenched on his son's hair, tossing him uncerimoniously into the dust-filled room.

"It's a bit basic compared to the barn where I do my business, but this will be your new 'office'." Grunter smirked lewdly. "We'll move in that brand spankin' new couch, which is actually a pull out mattress, as well as some photos of you sucking my cock and this place will look spiffy in no time." Grunter reached down to tug idly at his full, aching nuts. "But for now, we're gonna get you used to the floor."

END OF CHAPTER