Dominating Daddy

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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"Not so powerful now, hm...are you, daddy?"

It was a teasing term, a playful term, yet it still had Hester quivering, the draft stallion down on his knees with his head bowed to his more lightly built son. John was tall and gorgeous, not like his bay coat with a splash of white but a glorious black, just like his mother had been. But that had been a long time ago and, well, things were different then. John had a moderate build, somewhere between a heavy horse and a lighter breed, but that really didn't matter when it came to anthros. It was all about how they used their bodies, particularly in the pursuit of sex.

"Yes..." He groaned, ears splaying out submissively. "Oh, fuck... I need... I want... Ohhh..."

His mottled pink and black cock jerked before him, though he could not swing his head to relieve some tension, panting heavily through flared nostrils. Hester barely even knew how he'd gotten there, down on the living room floor, the furniture so familiar even as his son sat back on the sofa, legs lusciously splayed for him.

"Come serve me then, daddy," he grunted through his teeth, eyes hard, intent, boring into Hester as if they saw something that the draft horse did not. "Worship these balls... Worship my cock... Show me how much you want it."

He moaned, scrambling to obey, aware of the heavy yolk around his neck, which was something like a collar that draft horses could wear. Some had them made for shows and fairs, so that they could become more immersed in the experience, though more had them crafted for darker desires.

He ran his hands up his son's legs, admiring his strong calves, the thickness of his thighs. There was not a spare ounce of fat on the black stud's body and he yearned to show the athlete just how much he ached for it.

His nose pushed under John's balls, deeply inhaling his musk and the scent of his taint, how the mere sensation of it flooded him, playing his tongue out across it. Scent and sensation... Oh, what a delectable combination that turned out to be! Hester moaned, taking in the aroma of his son's balls, his tongue sweeping against his anal pucker, just to feel the wrinkle of flesh, the tease of even greater heat within.

"Mmm, that's right, daddy, keep it up..."

It was a term that, in a sexual context, should have been used by the submissive, but, well, it was even hotter hearing his son call him that when he was in a position of power. Lazily, John twisted his fingers into his partner's mane, Hester leaning into that touch as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Even then, he yearned for more, he needed more, whimpering, grunting, nuzzling into John's nuts and working his way up, playing his tongue between them, into the crease.

"Mmm..."

He couldn't help himself, losing control, though that was just why he had handed over complete control to John. It was better that his son took the reins. He lapped up around his sheath, dipping his tongue into the fold of it, though he craved it still, aching, snorting, wanting to taste that deviously hard cock.

He was there to serve, just to serve, no more than that, moaning and grunting, his tail flagging to expose his tail hole. It was a good position to be in, everything coming together in a heartbeat, taking the succulent, fat head of his son's cock between his lips as he slid down.

His son grunted and bumped, but all he was there was "daddy", there to please, there to do every little thing that his son wanted of him. There was nothing more for him, letting the rest of the world slip away, groaning around the hot, thick length, over the medial ring and taking the full length into his long muzzle. Of course, he couldn't fit every inch of such a magnificent dick into his muzzle, pressing past his lack of a gag reflex into his throat, swallowing hard.

"That's it, slut, keep sucking me off, daddy..."

He groaned, ears twitching, but he had handed over the reins and, even then, there was nothing more for it. He was only there to serve, no more than that, and that was comforting as he caressed his son's magnificent member with his lips and tongue, pressing up and down sweetly and surely.

It was repetitive, comforting, the place that he needed to be, resting there, groaning around the length. Slowly but surely, his son gripped his mane, dragging his head back and forth, groaning deeply.

"Yeah, daddy, suck my cock just like that... You want this cream? Huh?"

Yes, oh, yes, he wanted to say, though he wasn't present in the moment enough to do anything but grunt wantonly around his cock. He wanted that all, yes, losing himself there, moaning thickly, playing his tongue over the flat head, the pre-cum spilling forth helping lubricate everything even more, drop by drop.

Yet it was coming, one way or the other, as that delightful dick exploded in his mouth, a fountain of cream pouring into his mouth, slithering around his tongue and pumping straight down his throat. Hester gulped and gulped, losing himself right where he was, eyes half-closed, nothing more than a receptible for his son's load.

Down and down and down... He swallowed hard, repeatedly, taking it all down. It belonged in his belly, where he could best service his son, and he smiled faintly, enjoying the moment, letting it all wash over and around him, taking him right where he needed to be. It was better like that, all very much son, feeling John caressing his head, telling him that he was a good daddy, that he had always done right by him in so many ways.

Hester moaned, eyes adoringly looking up at his son.

On his knees before him, there was nothing more that he could ever have asked for.