Date: Tue, 18 Sep 2012 06:56:28 +0100
From: Rob Armstrong <robarmstrong26@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Spike's Piercing Parlour, Part Five: Turn of the Screw

  SPIKE'S PIERCING PARLOUR, PART FIVE: TURN OF THE SCREW

  THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A FATHER AND HIS 18 YR OLD
SON, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION.  THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE,
CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED.

  PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE
RESOURCE GOING.


	Twenty minutes later, all cleaned up and showered, the three men
sat naked at the bar enjoying some fine brandy.  Spike lit up a cigar for
himself and one for Thor but Clay declined the offer.

	'So this is where you've been coming every Friday, Dad?' he
enquired, sitting kinda gingerly on his stool. 'THIS was poker night?'

	Thor laughed, busted, and tousled his son's hair.  'Didya really
think I'd go play poker in fetishwear?'

	Clay shut his eyes, embarrassed he'd been such a rube, but the two
older men laughed him out of it.

	Then Spike told him all about the place.  'This is Dungeon One,' he
explained, 'also known as the wet bar.  By now ya can probably figure out
why.'  He thrust a thumb behind him at an inner chamber.  'Back there is
Dungeon Two, the leather room, then there's a maze that leads up into the
Cavern.'

	'The Cavern?'

	Spike nodded.  'It's the biggest chamber by far, we tend to use it
only fuh special ocassions.'  He beamed proudly.  'These are the only
natural rock-walled sex dungeons in NYC.  They're uncharted, mostly
unexplored - and best of all, unknown to City Hall.

	'See, the basement where I got my studio is part of an old East
Side townhouse. The guy who built it back in the day was some wealthy
Victorian fruit called Edmund Winstanley.  He was also a keen amateur
geologist and knocked the basement through into the bedrock.  He found this
system of natural tunnels and started bringing orgies down here, far away
from the eyes of 'polite' society.'

	He shrugged.  'Guess I just kept the tradition goin'.  I put a lot
of money into this place.  Plumbing, lights, air con, heating fuh the
winter.'

	Clay's curiosity was piqued.  'Can I look around?'

	Again his dad had to deny him. 'Sorry, Son, Spike's gotta set up
for tonight's event.'

	Spike patted his buddy's back.  'Don' sweat it, brother, at least
let's finish our drinks first.'  He was in a mood to talk.  'Yeah, seen a
lot over the years, ain't we buddy?  And runnin' this joint, I gotta say I
seen a lot more... and learned a lot too.'

	'For instance?' asked Clay.

	Spike took a long series of puffs on his cigar. 'Well, fuh one
thing, I'm here to tell ya there's damn few guys who ain't at least a litle
bisexual, whether they know it or not.'  He pointed the cigar for emphasis.
'An' I doubt there's a genuinely hot father and son combo in America who
ain't fantasized, deep down, about doin' each other...brothers either, fuh
that matter... an' I don' care HOW fuckin' straight they are.'
	Thor lifted Clay's chin and they kissed.  Dad put a fatherly arm
around his boy and Clay snuggled into his furry body.

	'Thanks fuh your help today, buddy,' Thor told Spike.

	'You kiddin'?  Gettin' two scorchin' hot studs like yous two
together?  I wouldna missed it fuh the world!'

	By now all three men were sporting boners again.

	Spike looked around his establishment.  'Yeah, hot fuckin' scene,
man.  Wish we could lure more father and son couples into our little web of
lust.  Oh we got one or two.  But there's gotta be more out there.  How hot
would it be to have an entire evenin' dedicated to fathers, sons and bros
gettin' it on together?  A new monthly event - fuh healthy, homo, family
fun.  Bring Grandpa too if he's hot!'

	Clay's dick began to throb.  'All right!  When we gonna make it
happen?'

	The two older men looked at each other.  'Spike, ol' buddy,' said
Thor gravely, 'I believe we may have created a monster.'

	Spike laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh.  'Always the way
with newbies.  It's a new toy... like a drug they jus' can't quit!'

	Clay grabbed his father's dick and started jerking it.  'THIS is
the fucking monster!' he said with a grin. His father gasped and started
doing the same to him.  Spike joined in the spontaneous circle jerk.

	'I'm serious, though,' Clay insisted as he masturbated Dad, 'We can
do this.  A father and son incest theme night, right here below New
York...'

	'Oh yeahhh...' Thor groaned, 'That WOULD be hot... a fuckin' mass
incest orgy... with piss...'

	'Always the piss with you,' Spike chided, as he began to huff and
puff, 'That's a nice way ta talk in fronta ya boy... unh-unh...  Fuckin
piss pig...!'

	'Oh, that's right,' Thor played along, 'Ohhh God... my poor
boy... my poor, innocent son, makin' him jack off his own father...'

	'Is this how you like it, Daddy?' Clay queried in a little-boy-lost
voice, 'Am I doing it right?'

	The role-play was getting them all close.

	'Okay yous two... ya got the whole summer... unh-unh-unh... all the
way up until Hallowe'en.... huh-huh... so get recruitin'...'

	Clay had transferred to his father's lap and he began to squirm and
wiggle.  'So wha... oooof.... yeah, Dad... two fingers, ohhhhh... what
happens at Hallowe'en...?'

	Spike ran that forked tongue of his round his lips, his fist on his
dick a blur.

	'Ain'tcha heard, kid? It's Spike's Hallowe'en Family Ball!'

	The three of them shot long ropes of cum all over each other.

	'Fuuuuck,' Thor panted, licking fingers fresh from his son's hole,
'I guess that's motion carried, then.  So, Clay, we gotta get out there and
round up all those hot dad and son broncos.'

	'It's a dirty job, Dad, but someone's gotta do it.'

	'Wiseass.  Talkin' of dirty jobs... son, you jus' made us all cum
over each other...'

	Clay chuckled.  'We got showers, Dad.'

	'Nuh-uh.  I don' think so.  Not this time.'

	'What you saying, Dad?'

	'I'm sayin', get your fuckin' tongue out and clean up our mess,
boy...!'

	They didn't get outta that underground toilet for another two
hours...




	Highschool let out for the summer, the last before Clay's final
year... yeah, he had to repeat senior year if he wanted to attend college,
and he wasn't the only one on the football team to have to do so.

	Some of those sports scholarships could be a bitch.

	Meanwhile he had to earn as much money for his college fund as he
could over summer break.  The work ethic was strong in the Larsen household
and he rejoined the construction crew he had worked with the previous
summer.

	Last summer he'd been seventeen and the baby of the crew.  A lot of
the older guys had kidded him about his surfer hair, his skater clothes and
his 'pretty' face, as they put it, even making occasional kissy noises at
him and pinching his ass.

	He had taken it all in good spirit, even giving back as good as
he'd gotten, accepting it as a natural part of the guy-bonding process.

	But knowing what he knew now, maybe there had been more to it.  No
question, this summer was going to be interesting...

	It was a very different Clay Larsen who reported for duty on his
first day this year.  The shaggy surfer mop was gone, as was the loose
fitting wardrobe of saggers and XXL Tees.

	He now sported a spiky flat-top - the back and sides were a blond
suede, Number 2 crop, tribal designs shaved into the scalp.  Broad
sideburns reached to his strong jaw.

	Navy blue suspenders ran from shoulders to the waistband of his
jeans, tight denim bleachers, and pulled them up snug into his commando
asscrack.  His red flannel shirt strained across his powerful chest and
shoulders.

	The overall effect was a little bit punk, a little bit skinhead,
and all stud.  His new haircut showed off his chiselled features better
than before and threw his ice-blue eyes into dramatic focus.

	Both men and women damn near walked into walls, turning to check
him out when he passed by.

	Kowalski, the big Polish bear of a foreman, did a double take when
Clay showed up.  'Jeez, kid, I barely recognised you.'

	There was a new respect in his voice, too.  Clay no longer looked a
boy, but a young man. There were a couple of good-natured wolf-whistles
from the crew - and even a leer from Wozniak, the handsome forty-something
daddy who, it was now blindingly obvious to Clay, was a complete slut.

	'You filled out real good, kid,' muttered Wozniak, as he leaned in
close to give Clay's powerful guns a squeeze.

	Yes, this was going to get MIGHTY intersting indeed.

	Naturally life in the apartment with Dad was very different now.
They kept to their own bedrooms - they were fuckbuddies, not lovers - but
nowhere in the apartment was out of bounds to their fucking.  In the first
few weeks following Clay's initiation they fucked like bunnies.  Incest was
a new toy for both of them and they indulged themselves whenever the urge
took them.

	And wherever.  The john was their favorite venue, unsurprisingly,
as the site of their first almost-fuck - and given the fact that they liked
to piss all over each other like race horses.

	The very next morning after Dad took him to Spike's, Clay walked -
naked - into the narrow john to relieve a massive piss-hardon – only to
find his Dad shaving at the sink, wearing a clinging brown Tee... but stark
naked from the waist down.

      	Clay stopped dead in the open doorway.

	And supressed a smile.

	His dick... twitched...

      	Dad paused in his shaving.  `Oh hi, Son,' he said, as easy as if
they'd both been kitted out for the Arctic, `Need to use the john?  Go
right ahead, don't mind me.'

	It was a re-enactment.  Of course.  Dad was taking him back to that
pivotal moment - was it really only a few weeks ago? - when he had stepped
up his son's seduction.

      	Clay was more than happy to play along.  History was about to be
rewritten.

	'Gee... sorry, Dad,' he muttered incoherently, '...didn't know you
were... you know...'

	He had to push past his father in the confined space to get to the
crapper.  It was unfortunate that, just as he was squeezing by, his father
happened to bend down to rinse his razor in the sink, thrusting out his
ass.

      	Clay was kinda pinned against the wall as he edged by, his
piss-hardon dragged... slowly... right across the rock hard flesh of one of
his father's ass cheeks... into the hot, steaming cleft of his hairy
crack...

	And Clay stopped right there.

      	...Dad just carried on shaving... little more hunched over... his
ass thrust out, and gyrating a little as he leaned in to focus on those
tricky-to-reach areas under the chin...

	Except THIS time, he was gyrating with his son's drooling cockhead
clenched warm between his cheeks.

	Yup. That torpedo was lodged RIGHT up against his rear hatch.

	'I... I'm sorry, Dad..' Clay murmured, managing a tremor in his
voice... 'I can't... can't stop it...'

	Dad looked up and their eyes met in the mirror.

	'Son?' asked Dad in a shocked, voice, 'What do you think you're
DOING?'

	Clay grabbed his dad's hips.

	'No, son!' Dad pleaded, 'Oh, God, no son, please!'

	'I'm so sorry, Dad...' he sobbed...

	... And plunged his wet tool DEEP up his father's hole with a
single thrust.

	'Raooowhoaaaarr!' his poor father screamed, slammed up hard against
the mirror.

	'Unghhhhhh... ooooarrr... aaaaahhhhh...' the boy roared as he drove
his hardon in and out his father's tunnel.

	He wasn't playacting now.  This was real.  His first piece of man
ass and it was Dad's.

	And MAN was it tight!  Tightest piece of ass he'd ever had.  Dad's
chute gripped the full length of his dick and seemed to ripple over it in
waves.

	'Oh, Clay...' Dad sobbed, broken and disappointed, 'Oh, son...'

	Clay bent him further over that basin and really jackhammered him,
mushing his red face up against the glass.

	'UNGHH-Unghh!  UNGHH-Unghh! UNGHH-Unghh!  UNGHH-Unghh!'

	Clay's grunts beat out the rhythm of his father's rape.  He growled
like a rabid dog and leaned in to bite his bitch's ear.

	'Oh.... sonnnn!' His father's tone had changed.  'Oh... ohhh
Claaaay..!'

	His father began to push back and impale himself on his boy's cock.
'Oh... oh... oh... yeahhhhh....'

	Their eyes met in the mirror again and there was no pretense
whatever.  It was Clay and Thor.  Son and Dad.  Fucking.  The tears of pain
rolling down Dad's cheeks were real - yeahhhh, Clay threw a MEAN fuck - but
he relished them.  Clay turned his face to him and licked them off.

	Salty.

	Then they were tonguing each other, mouths, faces, necks, anywhere
that could be reached. Clay reached a hand round for Dad's dick, which was
leaking like one of the nearby faucets.

	'Hoo, yeahhh... my big, beary, slutdaddy... Drippin' cock... you're
ENJOYING this, aren't ya?  Oh, your cunt is mighty fine...'

	'Daddy's muscle stud... yeah, let me have it, boy, rape my hairy
ass.  I got it comin'. Fill it.  Own it... make me dirty...'

	That did it.  Clay practically lifted him off the floor as he drove
his dick up to the hilt.  Inside the hot fleshy tunnel his jock dick
exploded, coating Dad's insides liberally with the seed of his seed.

	In Clay's hand Dad's dick went off like a fire hydrant.  The spurts
were audible as they hit the ceramic of the basin's inner surface.

	Clay twisted and wriggled his hips a few more times as Dad's chute
wrung the last drops out of him.  Finally the two of them clung together,
still docked, still hunched over, panting to catch their breath.

	Then Clay gave a satisfied sigh, as he flooded his father's insides
a second time.

	'Mmmmm...' moaned Dad, 'What's this?  I'm gettin' SO full...'

	Clay instructed him.  'Let the water out, Dad, and stick the plug
in.  Then you can piss in the basin again.'

	'The water, son?  What water?  And, oh look, the plug's already
in.'

	The next thing Clay knew was the gush of his father's own urine
thru his fingers and into the basin.

	And this time it wasn't going anywhere...

	Well... not down the plughole...



	As incredible as sex with his son was, Thor knew that Clay was a
young buck and would be eager to explore his new appetites everywhere.

	The boy was insatiable, bordering on the predatory.  His father
found his son's voraciousness tremendously exciting and he had to admit he
had an unerring eye for an opportunity.

	Who would have predicted that he would come home one day to find
his son with his dick buried up the ass of the building's super?

	The poor old hispanic, a grandfather of seventy, had only come into
the apartment to check a blockage under the kitchen sink.  Clay had taken a
liking to his thick grey zappata moustache and still hot body, and now had
him trapped, bent over under the sink, his jeans yanked down, getting his
hole reamed out for the first time in his long life.

	From the sounds the old guy was making, he was wondering why he had
never tried this before.  He probably hadn't been touched in decades and
now this hot young blond stud was banging him like the world was coming to
an end.

	When Thor saw what was happening he whipped out his dick fast and
fed it to his hungry son. Then he coaxed the super into a hot 69, with Clay
still hanging out the back of the guy, and all three of them came in a
shattering climax.

	Poker nights down in the boiler room between the super, his sons
and his thug grandson got pretty interesting after that.

	Then there was the nice young couple from Nebraska who moved into
the apartment downstairs.  She was sweet, pretty and heavily pregnant.  He
too was sweet, naive and clueless.  Unfortunately for him he was also a
sexy little fireplug of a guy, with bulging muscles and a hot ass.

	It took Clay all of a week to get into it.

	By the end of the second week the guy was a panting puppy with a
secret fondness for butt plugs, and Clay and Thor were regularly
spit-roasting him.

	His wife Marley was bewildered, but delighted, by how much more
outgoing her Dennis had become.

	The two of them really were so sweet together, Thor didn't have the
heart to tell her it was more a case of 'incoming.'




	Clay's stable of women had to do without their stud during those
summer months.  They weren't going anywhere, and he wasn't done exploring
this brave new world that had been opened up for him by his dad.

	For one thing there was his new piercings to get used to.  Dad was
an old hand - it turned out his own piercings hadn't been new at all, he'd
just played it that way as a ruse to turn Clay onto it - and he was able to
supervise the aftercare essential in the first few weeks.

	Of course, supervision usually got Clay all hot and bothered and
led to... other things...

	For another, Clay's ass needed some serious training if he was to
fully enjoy his new life.  He approached it as if it were just another
sport, and brought to it all the typical jock determination and endurance
he had to muster.

	By halfway thru the summer, both Thor and Clay had become regulars
at Spike's various dungeon theme nights.  Clay's hole had been really been
put thru it, by his father and the tattooist among others, with regular,
good, hard fucking, as well as dildo and butt plug training. He could now
take Spike's spike with ease and had recently progressed to being fisted
for the very first time.

	Everybody at Spike's knew they were father and son - you couldn't
exactly miss it - and they soon had a following near as big as the muscle
bull himself.

	'Fuck, dude,' one guy commented, 'You an' your ol' man are like a
fuckin' Julius cartoon come to life!'

	They would arrive in the dungeons together and put on a show for
their fans...

	Clay made a huge impact on his debut, the sight of this blond, punk
ass, jock stud wandering into the crowd for the first time causing enough
of a stir in itself.

	But Spike had the brilliant notion that they play it as if father
and son were both there by coincidence - that neither knew about the
other's 'secret' lifestyle.

	When father and son met up in the leather room 'by accident' it set
off a huge confrontation, full of bitterness and horror-struck
recriminations.

	Spike commented later that they each deserved a frickin Oscar.

	It caused a tremendous disturbance among the crowd.  Father went in
one direction and son in another, each followed by a coterie of men eager
to comfort him.  Alcohol was plied, regretful tears were shed, and a
drunken reconciliation was brokered.

	Father and son fell unsteadily into each other's arms back in the
leather room and hugged, to much aaaahing and patting of backs.  The tears
they shed now were of forgiveness and understanding.

	It was uplifting.  Really.

	They smiled and kissed one another on the cheek.

	And then they did it again.

	And again.

	And next thing they were frenching.

	A shocked thrill ran through the delighted hoard.  Cries of 'No,
no, you can't - he's your SON!' battled against those of, 'FUCK, yeah, HOT!
DO 'im!''

	But when Thor threw his son in the sling and fucked seven bells out
of him, everyone came together and there wasn't a dry dick in the house.

	It was a thing of beauty.

	Really.




	The resulting orgy was so frenzied that later on Spike contributed
a generous percentage of the night's takings to Clay's college fund.

	'Damned if you two ain't jus' great fuh business,' he declared.

	Thor and Clay were still laughing their asses off over their
performance earlier.  'Dad, did you see that hot redhead?  The young guy
who probably sells bibles in the daytime? He looked SO shocked!'

	'Yeah,' snickered Thor, 'but he didn't look so shocked when he took
his turn ploughin' ya ass in the sling!'

	'Don't you believe it,' countered Clay, 'He was quoting the Book of
Revelations at me the entire time.'

	'Yeah, well listen up, Whores of Babylon,' Spike put in, 'It's the
heat of summer now, all right, but time's a-wastin' and before ya know it
the leaves will be on the turn.'

	He glanced significantly at the calendar and they took his point.

	Hallowe'en was getting closer...


	END OF PART FIVE