Dominated By Dad Rimming Servitude

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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"Unff... Oh, fuck... Mmm, deeper, son..."

Fallon whimpered, the appaloosa stallion's tail flagging submissively, even though his pink cock, hanging out of his sheath as if he was looking for attention, and balls were larger even than his studly father's. Yet that was not what the white and black spotted stallion was doing right there and then, his father lazily stretched out across his own bed, flipping through a magazine on up and coming young studs, though not much of Deon's attention was on it.

It was the way of it when Fallon had his nose under his tail, after all, nuzzling and lapping, swirling his tongue over and around the thick doughnut of horse flesh that begged so very much attention. It was pink, like the skin that laid under his predominantly white coat of short hair, his mane white and black, spilling streakily down his neck. The stallions were both lightly built, as went with their breeding, but the short coat of appaloosa marked hair on their bodies did nothing at all to hide their muscling from view.

And they were not two that, once Fallon had reached adulthood status, had hidden all that much at all from each other. Sometimes it was needed, but sometimes it was more lustful, trusting one another enough to let loose their kinkiest, raunchiest of desires, even when it came for lusting for one another. That was what had led to Deon directing his son under his tail, the older stallion grinding back at him even as his own hard-on pressed into the bed and sheets under his body, achingly desperate for relief.

Yet he wanted to linger there, in the moment, his anal ring pulsing and twitching as if anticipating more, though his son was a good learner and student indeed. The equine lapped and teased his tongue around the thick doughnut of flesh, before delving inside as his father had instructed, and Deon sighed contentedly as he was pleasured.

It took a bold stallion indeed, a stallion just like him, to investigate the myriad of sensitive nerve-endings down there, how everything came together so lustfully, as if every aspect of even a body in that manner was designed for the giving and taking of pleasure. And yet it was intimate too, to allow his son's tongue into his anal passage, wriggling and worming back and forth, as unskilled as Fallon was.

But he was learning and Fallon's ears pricked attentively, wanting to hear what his father wanted, catching every little groan and twitch of his body, all little clues as to what would make his father feel the best that he could. He moaned, pressing in closer, whimpering, grunting, letting even those little sounds and tremors from his lips travel into his father's body. He would have longed to take his cock down his throat again, giving him the best deepthroat blowjob of his life, but there was a different kind of submissive lust and servitude to pleasing his tail hole.

The fat pucker of flesh pulled around his tongue as he explored the musky depths, relishing in it, even as his father rocked back up a little, so that he was on his knees, freeing his cock under his belly. Awkwardly, Deon grasped his length, jacking off slowly, though it was Fallon who was the star of the show and the deliverer of pleasure, learning how to rim his dominant dad for the very first time.

Even a clumsy effort got him somewhere, however, as Fallon slurped and lapped, rubbing his tongue up against his father's prostate -- that much he had learned from his father's tutelage. He could just about reach it if he really stretched his tongue into his father's arsehole -- which he was more than willing to do in the name of pleasure.

"Unff... Yes... Good boy... Good son..."

That was all Fallon wanted to be as he lapped and slurped and dug his tongue up into his father's backside more and more reverently, needing the moment, aching for it desperately. He moaned against his dad, his own aching hard-on forgotten for the moment, though there was no need for his pleasure, not when he was bound in luxurious servitude.

For that was the true nature of submission that his father was there to teach him of, allowing his son's tongue to curl and to press into him, exposing his most vulnerable of places and also a deeply submissive act to perform. It was about the other, yes, but it was about allowing oneself to sink, to let the sound of his father jacking off to wash over him, to know and to understand that he was a tool in his father's pleasure. He had a place there and it was a secure place, somewhere that he belonged, somewhere where his father would always keep him safe.

Deon groaned and Fallon bore on, eager to hear his father whinny in orgasm, his hand speeding up on his cock in the wet slap of a hand on raw, exposed flesh. He must have been rubbing his own pre-cum into his shaft, but Fallon did not pause to consider that, his actions instrumental in his father's pleasure, lusting, loving, moaning as he dug his tongue more and more urgently into the stallion's backside.

Yet when his father climaxed it was with a raunchy hump and grind straight back onto his son's muzzle, his tail flagging keenly over his head so that all Fallon saw was a fall of white and black hair, the strands mixed beautifully together. He moaned against his father, rimming his arsehole as if there could be nothing else at all in his mind, single-minded and driven in determination to provide pleasure above all else.

And that was all he had to do, as his father spent his load into the sheets and rode out his climax, filling the bedroom with his neighs, resounding to claim even the air. Breathing heavily, Fallon reverently and respectfully lapped his tongue over his dad's tail hole, stimulating it lightly, not wanting to press too far.

His dominant dad could train him more in what was pleasurable for him in all the times remaining that they would have together, all the times to lust and to love. Right then and there, Fallon, however, could rest easy in the knowledge that he had done all that was needed, that he had been a good son-slut, a good boy, his father panting in the afterglow with an appreciative nicker.

Soon enough, he would be rimming out his father again to further cries of ecstasy...

Fallon couldn't wait.