The Real Man of the Family
A Fictional Story by SissyDad.
“Man, that’s a small dick,” he said, not looking away.
I couldn’t hide. Couldn’t reach for a pillow fast enough. My fingers stayed curled around the little thing.
“How big is it?” he asked, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
“Four inches,” I whispered.
He laughed once, dropped the duffel, and unbuckled his belt. “This is a real man’s cock.” He shoved his jeans and boxers down. His cock swung out thick, heavy, already half-hard, and then it rose to full mast right in front of my face. Eight inches, maybe more. Veiny. A fat pair of balls hanging beneath.
He walked toward me, cock bobbing, and stopped close enough that the heat from it touched my cheek. He took my wrist and guided my hand to it. I reached out on my own then, fingers wrapping around his shaft. My hand looked small on him. My own little erection leaked onto my thigh.
He pressed down on my shoulders. I knelt without resisting. The carpet bit into my knees. His cock bobbed at my lips. I opened my mouth and took him in.
I sucked him like I’d been starving for it. My tongue flattened along the underside, lapped the salty pre-cum from his slit, then I pushed deeper until the head hit the back of my throat. I gagged but didn’t pull off. He grabbed the back of my head and thrust. I moaned around him.
I pulled off to mouth his balls, sucking each one into my mouth, licking the sweat from the seam between them, nuzzling my nose into the base of his cock while I jerked him with both hands. I worshipped them like a faggot, like a sissy, like exactly the kind of man my tiny dick had always made me.
“Fuck, Dad,” he grunted. “You suck cock like you were born for it.”
I let his balls slip out and took his shaft again, hollowing my cheeks. I bobbed fast, spit running down my chin, one hand cupping his balls, the other reaching between my legs to pinch my own useless little dick. I couldn’t wait for it. I needed his load in my mouth.
He grabbed my head with both hands and fucked my face. His balls slapped my chin. Tears leaked from my eyes. My throat opened. I moaned like a bitch. He grunted, cursed, and then his cock swelled, and he unloaded. Rope after rope of hot cum flooded my mouth. Thick, salty, endless. I swallowed every bit, milking the head with my tongue while he pulsed down my throat.
When he finally pulled out, a strand of spit and cum connected his cock to my lips. I licked it clean.
“Gee, Dad,” he said, looking down at me with a smile. “I didn’t know you were a sissy cocksucker faggot. This will be a great semester break. Looking forward to shoving my cock in your sissy ass.”
I stayed on my knees, panting, cum still coating my tongue. My own little cock was harder than it had ever been, a ridiculous four-inch twitch that leaked a thin string of pre-cum onto the floor.
He didn’t wait long. He grabbed my arm, hauled me up, and bent me over the edge of the bed. My chest hit the mattress, my knees nearly buckled, and my ass went up in the air. He kicked my legs apart with one booted foot.
“Look at you,” he said. “A grown-ass man with a clit for a cock, presenting his hole like a little cumdump.”
He slapped my ass hard. I gasped. He spread my cheeks with both hands and spit directly onto my hole. The wet glob dripped down my taint. He worked a thumb against the tight pucker, pressing until the tip popped inside. I cried out. My tiny dick leaked harder.
“Please,” I whispered, not sure what I was begging for.
“You want this cock in your sissy ass?”
“Yes.”
“What was that?”
“Yes, please, I want your big cock in my ass.”
He pulled his thumb out and replaced it with two fingers, shoving them into the knuckle. I bit the blanket. The burn made my eyes roll back. He scissored them open, then added a third. I clawed at the sheets, my knees spreading wider. My own pathetic little pecker hung useless between my legs, bobbing with every shove of his fingers.
“Your hole’s tighter than any college pussy,” he said. “But it opens up like it’s been waiting for real dick.”
He pulled his fingers out, and I heard him stroke his cock, slicking it with leftover spit and my own saliva. The blunt head pressed against my hole. He pushed. The pressure forced a high whine out of my throat. He pushed harder, and the head popped inside.
I saw white. He didn’t stop. Inch by inch he sank into me, his big cock stretching me open until his hips slapped my ass. His balls rested heavy against my little perineum. I felt so full I couldn’t breathe.
“There it is,” he grunted. “That’s a real man’s cock in your sissy ass. How’s it feel, Dad?”
“Big,” I moaned. “So fucking big.”
He laughed and pulled back until only the head stayed inside, then slammed forward. My entire body jolted. The headboard banged the wall. He set a brutal pace, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, his balls swinging to smack against my little dick with every thrust.
He fucked me like I was nothing but a hole. Nasty, degrading words fell from his mouth the whole time.
“Look at your little nub wiggling. You can’t even get hard enough to touch the mattress. You’re nothing but a warm set of guts for my cock.”
I moaned into the blanket, drooling. My little dick twitched and leaked a thin, watery stream of pre-cum. I reached beneath myself to jerk it, but he slapped my hand away.
“Sissies don’t get to touch their useless clit,” he said. “They cum from being ass-fucked like a faggot.”
He shifted his angle and hit something inside me that made my whole body clamp down. I screamed. My hips bucked back onto him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up, forcing my spine to arch.
“That’s it. Take it. Take your son’s big cock, you perverted little-dick bitch.”
The humiliation made my hole clench. I babbled apologies and thanks. He reached around and grabbed my tiny dick between two fingers, not to jerk it, just to squeeze it and pin it up against my belly.
“Four inches,” he sneered. “I’ve got toilet paper rolls bigger than this. You call this a cock? It’s a clit. Say it.”
“It’s a clit,” I moaned.
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you, thank you, please don’t stop.”
He let go of my hair and grabbed both hips again, pulling my ass back onto his cock as he drove forward. The room filled with wet slapping sounds, his grunts, my whimpers. My hole made obscene sucking noises every time he pulled out. The smell of sweat and sex soaked into the sheets.
“I’m going to fill your sissy ass with my cum,” he said. “And then you’re going to push it out into my hand and eat it. You want that?”
“Please,” I sobbed. “Please cum in my ass.”
He fucked me harder, the headboard cracking against the wall, his balls slapping my little cock. The pressure in my own belly coiled tight even though no one touched my useless nub. My toes curled. My legs shook.
His rhythm turned jagged, then he buried himself to the hilt and held there, growling through clenched teeth. I felt his cock swell and pulse inside me, pumping load after load deep into my bowels. The heat spread through my gut. My own little dick convulsed, and a thin thread of watery cum dribbled onto the blanket beneath me—not a real orgasm, just a sissy leak. But it was the hardest I’d ever cum in my life.
He collapsed over my back for a moment, his chest heaving, his cock still buried in my stretched hole. Then he pulled out slowly. I felt empty and gaping. Cum trickled from my abused hole down the back of my balls.
He reached down, gathered it with two fingers, and then shoved them into my mouth. I sucked them clean.
“Good little faggot,” he said. “Semester break is going to be a lot of fun.”
He zipped up, grabbed his duffel, and walked out, leaving me face down on the bed with his cum leaking from my ass and my own pitiful little cock still twitching beneath me.
I stayed there for a long time, panting, used, humiliated, and already waiting for him to come back.
The next morning, I came downstairs, moving slowly. My ass still ached, a deep, tender throb that made every step feel like a reminder. The smell of bacon and coffee hung in the kitchen. My son sat at the table, showered, dressed, scrolling through his phone like any normal college kid home on break.
His mother set a plate in front of him and kissed the top of his head. He smiled up at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Not a single flicker. No knowing glance when the younger ones clamored for orange juice. No smug comment when I carefully lowered myself into the chair across from him. He talked about his classes, the drive home, some roommate drama—normal, easy, forgettable. I sat there with my heart pounding, my fork barely moving, my little cock twitching uselessly inside my boxers every time his leg brushed the table.
At one point he stood to refill his coffee. He walked behind my chair, so close I felt the heat of his body. His knuckles grazed the back of my neck, a feather-light touch no one else could see.
“I’ll help Dad out in the garage after breakfast,” he said, sitting back down.
His mother beamed. “That’s sweet of you.”
I couldn’t look at either of them.
After breakfast, his mother packed up the younger kids for a trip to the grocery store. The front door clicked shut. The minivan started in the driveway. Then the house went so quiet I could hear my own breathing.
I stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the window, my knuckles white against the counter. I knew he was behind me before he touched me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my skull. Then his chest pressed against my back and his half-hard cock ground against my sore ass through his jeans.
“You’ve been squirming all morning,” he said, his mouth hot against my ear. “Thinking about it, aren’t you, Dad? Thinking about my big cock in your tight little sissy hole.”
My face burned. My four-inch dick twitched and leaked in my sweatpants. “Yes.”
He reached around and cupped me through the fabric, his fingers easily finding my pathetic little erection. He squeezed it and laughed.
“Still just a clit. But your ass is already begging for more. I could tell by the way you couldn’t sit still at breakfast.”
He spun me around, shoved me to my knees on the kitchen tile. I went down without a fight, my mouth already watering. He unbuttoned his jeans, pushed them down just enough, and his cock sprang out—eight thick inches, veined and already fully hard, bobbing right in front of my face.
“Open up, sissy. Show me how much you missed it.”
I opened my mouth. He grabbed the base and fed me his cock, sliding past my lips, over my tongue, until the head hit the back of my throat. I gagged but didn’t pull off. I moaned around him, my hands coming up to cup his heavy balls.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and fucked my face. Hard. His balls slapped my chin, his cock smeared spit down my lips and chin. I sucked him like a starving bitch, hollowing my cheeks, pressing my tongue flat against the underside, lapping the salt from his skin.
“That’s it. Choke on it. You’re just a wet mouth for your son’s big dick.”
He pulled out with a wet pop and slapped his cock across my cheeks—once, twice—leaving streaks of pre-cum on my face. He rubbed the leaking head over my lips like lipstick.
“Say you love it.”
“I love your big cock,” I panted. “Please fuck me again.”
He hauled me up by the collar of my shirt, spun me around, and bent me over the kitchen table. A glass knocked over and rolled to the floor, but neither of us cared. He yanked my sweatpants and boxers down to my ankles, exposing my bare ass still swollen and slick from the night before.
He pushed two fingers inside me without warning. I cried out. He scissored them open, then pulled them out coated in my own need and the last traces of his stale cum. He shoved them into my mouth.
“You’re still loose,” he said. “Still warm inside. Like my cum never left you.”
I sucked his fingers clean while he lined up his cock with the other hand. The blunt head pressed against my hole. He didn’t tease. He pushed inside in one long, unrelenting thrust, burying every inch until his hips slammed against my ass.
I shouted. The table legs scraped against the floor. My eyes rolled back. He was huge, splitting me open all over again, and I took every inch like a cocksleeve.
“There it is,” he grunted, rolling his hips. “That’s a real man’s cock back where it belongs. Your husband’s little pecker could never fill this hole, could it?”
I moaned, babbling something that wasn’t words. My own tiny dick hung between my legs, bouncing uselessly, leaking a thin string onto the floor.
He set a brutal pace, hammering into me with hard, fast strokes that made my whole body jolt. The table shook. The dishes rattled. He gripped my hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and pulled me back onto his cock with every thrust.
“Look at you,” he sneered. “A grown man bent over his own kitchen table, taking his son’s dick like a cheap faggot. You think Mom would believe this? That her husband is a sissy ass-bitch for her son?”
The humiliation made my hole clench tight around him. I wanted to deny it, but instead I moaned and arched my back, pushing my ass out further.
“Please,” I whined. “Please, don’t stop. Fuck me harder.”
He reached around and grabbed my tiny cock between two fingers, not to jerk it, just to belittle it. He pinched the head and laughed when it twitched.
“This little thing is just decoration. Your real sex organ is this ass. Say it.”
“My ass is my sex organ,” I sobbed.
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you, thank you, fuck me, please.”
He let go of my little nub and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back until my spine arched painfully. The new angle made his cock drag across my prostate, and I screamed. My knees went weak. My thighs trembled. Drool ran down my chin.
“You gonna cum from getting ass-fucked, you little-dick slut? You gonna make a mess on the floor like a bitch?”
“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop, please!”
He fucked me harder, his cock ramming into me so deep I felt him in my guts. The wet, obscene sounds of his hips slapping my ass echoed through the kitchen. My little dick twitched helplessly, pre-cum dripping in a clear, pitiful stream. The pressure inside me coiled hotter and hotter.
“I’m going to fill your sissy ass again,” he grunted. “Pump you full of my load while you leak like a worthless little girl. You want that?”
“Please,” I begged, tears running down my face. “Cum in my ass. Fill me up. I need it.”
His rhythm turned jagged, frantic. He slammed into me one last time and buried himself to the hilt, groaning through clenched teeth. I felt his cock swell and pulse, hot ropes of cum flooding my bowels, painting my insides. The heat pushed me over the edge. My own pathetic cock convulsed, and a thin, watery spurt of cum dribbled out onto the floor—not a real man’s orgasm, just a sissy leak. But my whole body shook with it.
He stayed inside me, his hips pressed flush to my ass, his breath ragged. Then he pulled out slowly, leaving me gaping and empty. Cum trickled from my used hole down the inside of my thigh.
He reached down, scooped up the mess with two fingers, and pressed them to my lips. I opened my mouth and sucked them clean, swallowing every drop of his seed mixed with my own humiliation.
“Good little faggot,” he said, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Now clean this kitchen up before Mom gets home. And don’t you dare sit down until you’ve mopped the floor.”
He walked out of the kitchen like nothing had happened. A second later I heard the TV turn on in the living room.
I stayed bent over the table, half-naked, his cum leaking from my hole and my own pitiful little cock still twitching between my legs. My face was wet with tears and saliva, my ass raw and open, and all I could think about was when he’d take me again.
I cleaned the kitchen on shaky legs, wiped the floor with my own cum, and tried to act normal when his mother came home with the kids. But my son caught my eye from the couch, smiled that private smile, and mouthed one word.
Later.
The End.
