Super Jock Shorts - "Party Foul for Brad"

Brad grunted as one of his father's political colleagues roughly grabbed his muscle tits and gave the fake nipple piercing a hard twist. If the cage wasn't suppressing his current erection and his father wasn't giving him a look that meant: "Don't make a sound boy, I need his support."; he would've grabbed the older man by his neck and forced him down his hard 9 inches, until he choked on it. 

Every time he came home for the weekend or holiday breaks, he already knew the routine of stripping out of his clothes as his father, Hank, carefully locked his cock up with the brand-new (totally off the books), government-issue power dampening cage. Hank wasn't completely on board with his son being a vigilante, but he couldn't in good conscious release the hordes of government agents on his only child, so for now he would safeguard Brad's secret. 

"Son!" Brad looked up and saw that his father was motioning him over, so he expertly excused himself from the drunken clutches of the older, pudgy man groping him. 

Whenever Brad's parents hosted dinner parties, he was constantly pulled into them and dressed up like a scantily-clad waiter: tiny black thong barely covering the oversized, almost codpiece like chastity device; a cheap and itchy bowtie around his thick corded neck; and completing the ensemble was fake nipple piercings. 

Politely moving pass other guests, he ignored the not-so-subtle hands that brushed against his muscular ass cheeks or got "accidentally" snagged underneath one of the thong bands and snapped back with an audible "SLAP". 

His parents had went all out with this party; trays of food, a bunch of other waiters who were dressed properly leaving Brad as the only one who looked like a slut, and then a giant custom made ice sculpture that looked slightly homoerotic, but Brad didn't question it. He was hoping to get a taste of the mini smoked sausages that were being offered around, but Miguel (his other dad) specifically forbade him from eating anything, until after the party was over. 

When he reached his father, he was going to originally stand beside the leather chair Hank was in, but the older beefier copy of his son pulled him down into his lap. Brad could tell that his father was tipsy--eyeing the half empty tumbler of whiskey and noticing how handsy he was being in front of guests. 

But Brad just smiled and nodded as his dad continued to talk. 

"So son, my friends here were listening to me talk and I [burp!]--Excuse me! haha!" 

"I was mentioning how you've been working out, even after practice is over and all of the progress you've been having, and my friends wanted to have you show that off for them." Hank said, letting his free hand grab onto Brad's meaty hip and rub it softly. Each touch his father gave him, made Brad get painfully erect underneath the cock cage, precum began to leak out of it. 

"Sure father," Brad tried to stand up, but Hank's grip on his hip was firm so he decided to twist and flex on his lap. "If you can see here, I've been working on my obliques and I think I've been making significant progress in that area." 

"My pectorals have always been pretty massive and meaty, but coach made me work on them extra today at practice, so their a little sore right now." As Brad mentioned his pecs, Hank grabbed onto them and began to groped at it without a care in the world. He could feel his father's hot and heavy breath on the back of his neck and it made goosebumps form all over his body. 

Brad remained still but kept talking, while Hank groped and played with his man tits, paying close attention to his silver-dollar sized nipples. Flicking, twisting, and tweaking them, each action seemed to be like Hank was getting his son off on it. Brad's breathing got quicker and heavier, he had been at his parents' place for two days and ever since having the cage on, he felt like his balls were about to burst. 

It was getting difficult for Brad to talk straight and he knew if he didn't excuse himself soon, he was going to cum right there on his father's lap.

 

Hank alternated between drinking out of his glass and playing around with his son's meaty tits--he never saw them as pecs and instead called them tits or boobs in his head. He loved his son, but looking and watching as Brad got bigger and bigger; it made the elder Knight realize that his son was going to become bigger, faster, and stronger than he was back in his prime. And it made Hank extremely jealous. 

Brad already had a leg up on him in the cock department, even though he never knew it. The two Knights talked about everything with each other, but Hank never disclosed that he was below average down there, instead hiding the fact with how FUCKING gigantic his balls were. 

The bulge Brad was currently sitting on was actually Hank's grapefruit-sized ballsack. He had to suppress a loud groan, when he pulled Brad down onto his lap. 

Since, Miguel was in the office day and night, and Hank was flying back and forth between D.C. and Millennium City; neither one of them were up to the task of having sex. It seemed Miguel was always satisfied, Hank not letting the newly-formed hickey on his husband's tanned neck or the cum stains on his speedos and briefs go unnoticed. Instead of being enraged that Miguel was tangled with another man, it made Hank's balls ache even more painfully than before. 

So, whenever he had the chance to take out some of his sexual frustration on anyone, he did it to Brad--knowing in the back of his head that it would serve as a moment of teaching discipline and that his boy probably got off on it. 

Hank pulled one of the fake piercings from Brad's nipple, loving how far it stretched as it came off; Brad vibrated on his lap and it made Hank smirk--he loved how close to the edge his boy was and he was determined to push him over. So, he then reached into his cup and pulled out an ice cube, Brad was too caught up in his detailed description of how each muscle is being pulled and molded, so he can get stronger that he didn't notice Hank inching the icy object closer. 

The moment it pressed against his sensitive nipple, Brad jolted and it caught Hank by surprise, his drink flying out of his hand and smashing into pieces on the hardwood floor. 

The room went silent and only the soft sounds of smooth jazz was heard. 

Brad was extremely nervous, unsure of what his drunken father would do to him for accidentally causing one of his priceless whiskey tumblers to break. 

Hank wasn't really angry, but saw this as an opportunity to both deal out of some of his sexual frustrations and get Brad over the edge publicly. So he turned the dramatics to 100! 

"What the--! BOY! STAND UP RIGHT NOW!" Hank ordered, the veins on his forehead and neck popping. 

Brad leaped up, wasting no time as he knew how pissed his father could get if he wasn't fast enough. 

"OVER MY KNEE NOW!" Hank ordered, pointing at his lap and smiling to himself when Brad obeyed without question. 

Hank yanked the thong down quickly and rubbed his large paw over Brad's phat ass cheeks, before slamming his hand down HARD! 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Brad bit down on his lip as the smacks came coming, each hit making him hump against his father's tree trunk thighs. 

Hank loved how much his son's ass jiggled with every slap and how red it quickly became, only pausing his ass assault to rub in the fiery hot pain into each muscular cheek. He would then grab both cheeks and pull them apart, letting his palm smack audibly against Brad's tight jockpussy. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Brad couldn't hold in the groans any longer, yelping over and over again as his dad continued to smack that jockpussy, even after it swiftly turned a cherry red color just like his tight muscled ass cheeks. Brad's pussy was particularly sensitive, something he blamed on the special soothing lotion that Miguel shipped to him months ago. It was a late birthday present from his other dad, but he was glad in the moment that he was given it because it prevented his skin from getting dry and cracked. 

It was cool, non-greasy, and smelled like cologne, so of course Brad used it to jerk off--squirting a hefty dose into his JockPuss and pounding the silicone masturbator until he deeply groaned and unloaded his balls into it. Sometimes when he wasn't thinking, his lotion covered hand would drift its way in between his ass cheeks and glide over his hole, those lubed up fingers swirling around the puckered rosebud, but he stopped himself before going any further. 

Hank paused the assault on his son's bare steel buns, leaning over to pretend angry whisper into his ear, "If you keep yelling boy, I'll have Mr. Landers [motioning towards the grinning, silver-haired 50s looking man with the beer gut] take you into your room and feast on your cunt, so bite down on your lip and take it like a good little jock slut okay?" 

Before Brad could do anything, Hank went back to the pressing issue at hand, using little to no strength at all to position Brad in such a way that he was sitting backwards on his father's expansive lap. Brad's massive muscle butt was facing outwards to the audience of eager, handsy, and perverted older men who licked their lips and readjusted their cocks. 

Brad made an attempt to spread his legs further apart, loving the soothing feeling of the cool air against his red hot, twitching jockpussy and let out a low moan. 

His father rewarded him with another barrage of hole smacks. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! 

Each sharp hit against the sensitive spot, sent electrifying pulses and straight to his enclosed cock and balls. His cock leaked heavily, creating a large wet patch on the front of Hank's pants--although it wouldn't matter as Hank had already overfilled the condom placed on the constantly leaky prick in between those massive tanned thighs. 

Brad could feel himself getting closer to the edge of cumming, but knew with this cage that it would be impossible. 

Maybe I could just warm up the cage, melt the metal just a bit...fuck I don't know! God my dads are gonna be so pissed if they figure it out--well fuck it! Brad thought to himself, deciding that he would do it anyways and deal with the consequences of his horny actions later. 

Hank leaned back into Brad's ear, his hot heavy breaths making goosebumps form on Brad's neck, "You fucking muscular slut, you made me do this son...making me spank your big fat ass in front of everyone. I bet you want me to throw you over the table, rip these pants off and fuck the hell out of your tight jock hole huh?" 

Brad whimpered, internally not wanting that at all but a small part of himself was yearning for something to stuff his cunt--be it a finger or two, a fist, a dildo, even a cock if the need was really bad. 

Hank kept going, while his rate of spanking became faster but sloppier and he paused to rub in the pain after each loud smack. 

"Fucking pound that ass, maybe let Miguel have a go with that smartass mouth of yours...finally get back at you for embarrassing us years ago at that football game. Fucking dirty slut, fucking that perverted coach of yours for everyone to hear. Miguel was so horned up, he pulled me behind the bleachers and ate me out like a pig!" 

Brad listened intently, but slowly used his superhuman abilities to melt the cage and thankfully none of the melted metal got on Hank's lap while this continued on. By the time Brad was finished, only the head of his cock was showing through a hole made and each smack made Brad rut against the front of Hank's dress jacket. Even with this tiniest bit of friction was inching Brad even closer to the point of no return. 

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! 

Brad let go of his dad's bulky shoulders and moved his hands to the stiff, needy nipples on his chest that poked out like bullets and grabbed them both, twisting, tweaking, and pinching. And it seemed to do the job as Brad screamed at the top of his lungs: 

"OH FUCKING GODDAMN IT! CUMMING DADDY!!!" 

The first load of thick, sticky cum came blasting out of Brad's purple swollen cockhead right up against Hank's chest and connected father and son. The second was much larger in volume, hitting Hank's chin and chest again, some got onto Brad's own chest. Brad came again and again, more loads of splooge came flying from the stud's cock, but Hank got over his shock and pushed Brad off of his lap where he barely was able to stand on weak and weary legs. 

Mr. Landers grabbed Brad when he fell backwards from the intensity of the orgasm; holding the boy somewhat upright by his bulging pecs while using a free hand to collect some cum. He eyed the gleaming pool of white jizz and lapped some of it up, it was musky and sweet to the taste kinda like a Brotein sports drink. 

Landers offered it to Brad, who drank it without resistance--guzzling his own semen down with thirst and drew audible chuckles from the other men when Brad whimpered as Landers pulled the spit and cum covered palm back. 

"Looks like he liked it gentlemen." Hank said, at first a little gruffly, then cleared his throat and repeated it. He glanced down to Brad's spent dick which was still oozing jizz and motioned for the others to get their fill, before the cum faucet cut off. 

For an hour, the men lined up and gently sucked Brad off, slurping down whatever was left from the fratbro's dick. Landers let Brad remain up against his chest, teasing him with some nippleplay and light neck kisses. Throughout the gentle teasing and groping, he ignored the older male's erection digging into his corded back. 

As the party began to die down, Miguel let Brad go to his room but didn't let the melted cock cage go unnoticed. While Brad was slowly drifting into sleep, although he laid on his stomach because his ass was still aching from the violent but pleasurable assault that Hank gave him. Miguel quietly crept into Brad's childhood room, holding a slowly melting rod of ice in one hand while getting closer to the edge of Brad's bed. 

Brad groaned softly and unconsciously spread his legs apart so some of the air from the ceiling fan would help cool his burning ass cheeks and jockpussy, but unknowingly was making what Miguel was about to do any easier. Miguel saw his opening and jumped onto Brad, pulling the stud's ass cheeks apart and fired the ice rod into his tight hole. 

Brad yelped at the sudden, intensely cold entry, but ultimately welcomed it as it instantly soothed the intense heat and pain that came to him in waves. 

"I know you melted the cage Bradley, but it's okay I didn't tell your dad." Miguel softly said to Brad, gently rubbing the two mounds of ass meat on Brad's backside. What Brad had accomplished as both a star football player and specimen of physical stature was extremely impressive, and it made it even more difficult for the Latin heartthrob to keep his hands off of his son. 

All Miguel wanted to do was eat out Brad's hole, smack those cheeks, and have Brad fuck him like a bitch in heat until his hole was gaping and ruined. But he stopped himself every time, wanting to wait for the fratbro to be ready himself. 

"But Bradley, this doesn't mean that you're getting out of a punishment...now I need for you to freeze that rod stuffed in between your cheeks and freeze this empty balls too." Miguel grasped Brad's sensitive ballsack in one hand, giving the gonads a light squeeze and drawing a low deep groan from deep within Brad's body. 

Brad nodded his head and focused on the ice cold rod partially filling him up, making it go subzero just as his ballsack did the same. It hurt like shit, but also made his cock rock hard and leaking again. 

Miguel smiled, "There we go Bradley, thank you for that. Now I gotta head back out there, your dad is being spitroasted by Senator Cockburn and General Knox, and I want to watch every minute of it--maybe even get that closeted voyeur Landers to suck my dick, he'll do anything to guzzle my loads down." 

Miguel left Brad there with his frozen nutsack, closing the door softly so Brad could rest and get ready for the morning. Brad attempted to go to sleep, but couldn't focus on anything else except for the memories of being publicly humiliated in front of many powerful people. It turned him on so much that he finally drifted off for a night full of wet dreams. 

THE END

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