As I stared at each new development in awe, I couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, what exactly “too far” was to me now. At first it was inviting my close friend Caryn to spend the summer with my family. A few days here and there were dine, but 3 months was too far, my dad claimed. Caryn and he did not see eye-to-eye. Dad was a classic hard right-winger. No real support for anyone outside of his group. Caryn was a leftist punk in every sense of the word. He had a bright orange mohawk, and he was adorned with piercings and tattoos (including the words “HATE FUCK” on his knuckles) on every body part. His black baggy clothes covered a thin but deceptively strong build despite never visiting a gym. Dad, meanwhile, had a regular medium build. Nothing about him stood out, and that was how he preferred it. He claimed it was “too far” for Caryn to stay 3 months, but we talked him into it.
The next “too far” moment was Caryn beginning to take over the house. He would remove family pictures as he saw fit and replace them with his own artwork. Often it contained leftist slogans or anti-hate symbols. He would tell my mom what sounded good for meals, and she would whip it up without exception. When he started sitting in my dad’s seat during dinner, Dad again claimed it was “too far”. My mom was taken by Caryn though, so she defended him. In front of us all, she insulted my dad for being close-minded and insecure. She called him a small, pathetic man if he was upset over losing a chair or allowing a guest. He sat there in silence for the rest of the meal as Caryn ate smugly. A number of time, him and my mom locked eyes and shared a flirtatious smile. My dad never again publicly said anything Caryn did was “too far”. But he felt it.
Caryn soon began spending a lot of time with my mom. While Dad was at work, Caryn and my mom would bond and talk about everything under the sun. He asked questions about her life, sometimes digging a little too deep in my opinion, and she asked about his political philosophy. Caryn never wasted time, using every chance to explain to my mom why he thinks like he does. Slowly but surely, she came around. Soon she was sharing leftist memes on Facebook and reading more and more left-wing media. She became outwardly politically active, proudly attending protests against batıkent escort the very ideals she and my dad once shared. Dad could do nothing to talk her out of it, as any attempt was met with a brick wall. Caryn would always eventually jump in as well, and the two would double-team my dad into submission. After 4 weeks of living with us, my mom began taking off her wedding ring when my dad was gone. He was too oblivious to notice when she changed her relationship status on Facebook to single, and her preference to women.
When my mom left my dad for an older woman named Mai, it came as a shock to nobody but him. She spent hours detailing what she didn’t like about him, as Caryn and I eavesdropped from outside. He spent much of the time either laughing or nodding his head in thoughtful agreement. My mom stormed out, took off her wedding ring, and gave it to Caryn as a thank you gift. She left the house to move in with her true soulmate, leaving behind a suffocating marriage and an ex-husband ripe for Caryn’s taking.
Caryn continued the humiliation each day. He would ask what my mom would cook for dinner, then follow with “Oh, that’s right”. He would loudly update on what he saw my mom and Mai doing, including their romantic honeymoon to San Diego. And when they got married, he hung up their marriage photo in the same spot where my parent’s hung, before Caryn removed it to keep as another trophy. And finally, he began wearing my mom’s old wedding ring on a necklace, proudly displayed. After all, he pointed out, her new one was much nicer anyways. My dad, for his part, said nothing. In two and half months, Caryn had moved in and turned him into a shell of a man. He slinked around the house, and his performance at work suffered. He now suffered constant verbal abuse by someone who, at one point, was just a temporary guest.
Towards the end of summer was the first time where I thought Caryn may have taken it too far. He spotted my dad cleaning, and called out “Missed a spot!” before throwing knocking over a plate of food. My dad looked at him with disdain but didn’t say a word. Caryn took this as a challenge, and he loved challenged. He roared at my dad to say something, anything to him. Caryn rose to his feet and quickly closed beşevler escort the distance between them, his fists balled. My dad stepped back and looked down, apologizing over and over. He was more than afraid- he was terrified. Caryn finished with saying “That’s what I fucking thought” before hocking a loogie into my dad’s face. My dad wiped off the saliva and continued cleaning obediently.
Caryn took this physical very often by now. He would slap, spank, and spit on my dad every chance he got. He only punched him once or twice, but when he did it cause my dad to lose his footing and fall to the floor. He did what Caryn said, when he said it. I watched as my dad would hold open his eyes for Caryn to have a better target to spit into, or bend over and receive spankings as punishment for not cleaning well enough. Once, Caryn even pissed on my dad while he cleaned the toilet. A fitting punishment for having no facilities ready to use.
With one week left before Caryn was set to move out, he decided to finally take things where they needed to go. He called my dad over one evening and told him to kneel down. Dad complied, and Caryn stepped closer. Brushing against my dad’s face was Caryn’s cock, rock-hard and girthy. My dad whimpered no, but Caryn didn’t listen. He pulled out his monster cock and began to stroke it. With one hand, he pulled my dad’s head in close and made him smell it. He made him inhale the scent of cock, to get firmly acquainted with it. Next Caryn pulled his cock upright, exposing his hairy testicles. He ordered my dad to lick.
My dad was afraid, a victim of 3 months of endless torment. He did as he was ordered. He stuck out a small, quivering portion of his tongue. It hesitantly explored the grooves of Caryn’s hairy and heavy sack. He tasted the sweat, the musk that grows after a long summer day. A few slaps to the face encouraged him to open his mouth, and Caryn placed his balls inside. Caryn moaned in ecstasy as he stroked his hard cock. My dad dutifully cleaned the balls and performed well to Caryn’s expectations.
After a couple minutes, Caryn removed his balls, looked at my dad and asked two words: “You ready?” With that, Caryn slowly entered his cock into my dad’s virgin mouth. He pressed steadily büyükesat escort onward, ignoring my dad’s gasps and gags. Dad’s eyes watered as the cock went further in, now moving towards the back of his mouth down his throat. Caryn moaned and kept pushing inwards, never stopping or hesitating. His eyes were locked on my dad’s. Caryn was reveling in this suffering, the penultimate de-masculinization.
As the head of the cock hit the back of my dad’s throat, he began to gag with his whole body. Caryn was mocking him, encouraging him to puke so he could get some lube. Soon, my dad’s nose was covered in a forest of dark brown pubic hair. He struggled to breath during the initial thrust, and this didn’t help. He tried to pulled back his head, but Caryn was locked in tight. My dad moaned, and tried to beg in between gags. Caryn’s expression, cold and with no remorse, didn’t change. He stared at my dad as if he was on a mission.
My dad, apparently, tried to give Caryn what he thought he wanted. He worked diligently, proficient at first and then in a panic, to make Caryn cum so that it would end. His tongue swirled around the shaft, massaging it as if his life depended on it. For all we knew, it did. Caryn held my dad tight against his body. He watched the act of desperation get more and more frantic. And then suddenly, it slowed down. My dad was without air for quite some time and the effects were showing. His tongue moved slower and his head bobbed back and forth less and less. His nose, once inhaling hard to get an semblance of oxygen, now went quiet. Under Caryn’s still unceasing gaze he went limp. Caryn held him there still, my dad’s unconscious body wrapped around his cock. He looked at me and smiled before releasing and letting my dad fall to floor.
Above my dad’s pathetic body, Caryn began to stroke himself. He twirled my moms wedding ring in his left hand while his right brought him to orgasm. He spit on my dad, and kicked his ribs as he kept stroking. Much faster than my dad could have, Caryn brought himself to a roaring orgasm. A full load shot onto my dad’s face, pooling in his eye sockets and covering his mouth. Caryn stood there for a few seconds more. My dad, suddenly, began to breath again. Caryn’s expression was one of pleasant surprise. Caryn re-clothed himself, and sat down to watch the spectacle of my dad coming to, then realizing what adorned his face.
My dad sat up and stared with tears in his eyes at Caryn, who reclined on the couch. A smile crept across his face and he spoke with humiliating irony.
“Welcome to my house. I’ll show you where can sleep until you get a place of your own.”