My Father's Apprentice

My dream had always been to become our tribe's strongest warrior. We were the last natives of our archipelago and the last representatives of our culture. I had spent almost my entire life so far--the first 19 years of it--training with our warriors when they were available and training on my own when they weren't. I had acquired the skills and the body for it. It was obvious for myself and for everyone that I would become part of our vanguard when I reached 20. Or at least, so I thought.

The first step was to become a warrior's personal apprentice. It was supposed to be a rubber stamp. I was already in disbelief when the first one rejected me. I had trained so much with the captain, and he always congratulated me. He looked to the side as I tried to insist and closed his door. I couldn't understand, but perhaps it was because of his title as captain? Perhaps he had no time for an apprentice. But why not just tell me if that was the case?

My shock, sadness, and disappointment only grew bigger as more and more warriors rejected me. What was wrong with me? Had they been making fun of me all this time while I trained with them? Were they lying when they said I had the potential to be the next legendary fighter? I tried to get an explanation from each of them, but they all simply looked away as they refused. I couldn't hold my tears in when I realized there weren't any of them left to beg. I ran back home and sat on my bed.

There was only one warrior left to ask, the strongest of our tribe. My own father. But no one had ever been the apprentice of someone closely related to them. Of course, there would be a fear of nepotism and someone being chosen solely because they were family but not worthy. But it wasn't the main reason--not even close to it. The reason was the ritual associated with being someone's, apparently.

All our warriors are males, and their strength is built up in their parts. To become as strong, or even stronger than his master, an apprentice had to consume his male energy directly. In other words, his seed. The ritual wasn't seen as something sexual in theory, but still, no one had pushed it far enough to do it with a family member. So my father was, of course, off limits. Even more than for the average person. My mother has been dead since I was a baby; he raised me on his own and was both of my parents in a way.

However, he was the highest-ranked warrior in our tribe; perhaps he could find someone who'd accept or force them to. I knew it was his rest day, so he was in the room next to mine right now. I wiped my tears off my face and made myself look more dignified. "Come in," he said after I knocked, and so I did.

"So, have you found yourself your master already?" He asked me, sitting on his bed.

"I actually wanted to talk about that."

"What? Did something happen?" He asked as he noticed my disappointed look.

"They all... they all... they refused." I stuttered.

"Really? No one agreed? Did they tell you why?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Leax."

"Can't you... I don't know... Convince one of them or something?"

"I can't, especially not since you're my son. I know how much it meant for you, but you know you can only ask them once. I imagine if you've come asking me, that's only because you've asked them all first. I'm sorry. I know this is your dream, but there are many things in life that are just as exciting as being a warrior."

"No, Dad. Please. I need to do it. I was born for it. I know it. I can't do anything else." I begged, tears filling my eyes again, this time in front of someone.

"But you can't; you've asked everybody. A warrior can't go back on his word." He sighed, looking down.

A silence hanged over the room as we both realized something about what he just said. Not a lie, but not a truth either. There was still one person I didn't ask. How could I even think that? He looked up into my eyes. His jaw started moving, but he closed his mouth before any sound could escape from it.

"Please, Dad, can't you force one of them? We can pretend I never asked him before. Or anything... I'll do anything to fulfill my dream!" I kept begging and fell to my knees.

"There is... a way." He looked away and let a second of silence before continuing. "Perhaps I could be your master, but we could make the ritual less... problematic."

I swallowed my saliva; how could it be changed? "How? What are you thinking about? It's a religious ritual; we can't trick it or the gods would have our heads."

"Don't worry; I won't resort to tricks. We will do the ritual if you want to be my apprentice, but simply the result of it. Not the... preparation. I'll do it tomorrow morning; think about it tonight, and you can make your choice then."

How could he suggest that so calmly? I guessed what he was talking about. The result of the ritual was to consume the master's seed. The preparation was to help him... get it out. Sure, the worst part of it would have probably been to help get it out, but to consume his seed was already a crazy thought. Was he serious?

I went to bed later, although unable to get a good night of sleep, managing to actually get some only four hours before I eventually woke up, thanks to the rays of light opening my eyes. My heart was racing already. I knew yesterday's conversation wasn't a nightmare; it had really happened. I got ready and began climbing the stairs down. As I walked closer to the kitchen, I heard loud grunts and wet sounds. I couldn't get in now. Those grunts lasted for a few minutes. Did he have to be so loud for so long?

The door opened as he left the room; he didn't look into my eyes. "You can go in; I left a note and... the material for the ritual." He softly said.

I didn't answer anything back or look at his face. Instead, I got in the room and closed the door behind me. Immediately, a strong scent filled my nostrils. I recognized it due to knowing my own, but it was different and much more intense. I was barely in the room, but it was already overwhelming. I laid my eyes on the table and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I could somewhat guess the shape of two slices of bread, but they were covered in a full white layer. The whole plate was. Was it all my dad's seed? It was absurd. I noticed the note next to the plate and read it: "Leax, I'm sorry this has to be your way of becoming a warrior, but there is no other way left. Forgive me for the quantity, but you being my son, I imagine you're used to it as well. You still walk out of the room and give up on your dream if this is too much. But if it isn't, gather all your strength and courage."

He talked about it as if I were about to fight an invader, as if it were something normal. And what was he talking about me being his? I had never shot that quantity, not even a tenth of it... But I wasn't a warrior yet.

I couldn't give up on my dream. I grabbed the plate and raised it to my face. How was I even supposed to... eat that? It was impossible to grab the bread in that whole lake. But yet, I had to. As I did, my fingers got covered themselves in the white liquid, although it was so thick, I wasn't even sure it was liquid. I closed my eyes and slowly brought it to my mouth. I felt like an eternity happened between the moment I started moving it closer and the moment I bit the bread. I couldn't taste the bread at all. Instead, a strong, salty savor filled my mouth. I strangely had no issue swallowing it. My face reddened, and I panted for a few seconds, opening my eyes and looking at the rest of the slice. Was this strange feeling in my body the ritual's effect? Was I already gaining my father's strength?

I took another bite and kept it in my mouth longer before swallowing it, not understanding why. My breath got heavier. I wanted to keep eating it. It was a step closer to my dream. I couldn't chew his cum; despite how thick and sticky it was, it was still liquid. Every time I swallowed some, I felt a strange warmth travel down my body to my own manhood. It had to be the energy flowing. I finished the first slice before I could realize it and quickly grabbed the second one. Weird sounds started escaping from my mouth. It didn't take me more than a minute to finish this one too.

I looked down at the plate now. There was as much seed still on it as I had eaten from the bread. The ritual wouldn't be complete if I left so much there. I brought the plate to my face again and stuck my tongue out. I started licking the edges of the plate, stopping some drops from dripping down onto the table. My mouth was full of the taste of it, and it only made me want to clean the plate entirely. I couldn't think straight in that moment. Was my body craving more strength? It had to be. I kept going and sucked the plate's content off it, almost making out with the ceramic to collect the seed. My manhood was definitely reacting to it, getting harder from all the power it received.

I couldn't stop licking it until I realized there wasn't any left on the plate, and I couldn't get more of that thick texture and that taste. My mouth stayed open for a bit. I closed my eyes and tried to think straight again. When I left the room, my father was waiting just by the door. He looked up and down. "So you did it? Did it work?"

"Yes, it definitely worked. I feel so warm and full of energy." I replied with pride.

"Good boy, you're officially my apprentice now." He smiled.

This ritual became a daily occurrence for us, like our religion dictated. Every morning, I walked in the kitchen to my new breakfast and ate it. Then the day would be dedicated to training and to the tribe's defense. However, about three weeks after we started, I walked into the kitchen but didn't find anything. I went to see my father and realized he was still sleeping. When I woke him up, he sighed. "Ah yeah... Sorry, I had trouble sleeping. But I think it's time anyway. We can't keep doing it the way we have so far."

"Huh? What do you mean, Dad? It's not like we can do it differently. I don't want to do the... preparation."

He laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not talking about changing that part. I just mean me waking up earlier and doing it in a hidden way. We can't keep doing that for a year. Come with me in the kitchen."

We walked downstairs; he was wearing loose pants and no shirt. His short hair wasn't styled, and his beard was not clean-shaven yet. He put two slices of bread on a plate. I turned around and took a step towards the door, but felt his hand on my shoulder. "No, Leax. That is what I meant. I don't want to have to hide every time. It is a warrior's ritual, nothing more."

I turned back around to look at him. He removed his hand from my shoulder. My eyes widened, and I froze when I noticed him actually pulling his manhood out of his pants. My jaw shook. It was surreal. I could see it was fully soft by the way it moved and how he held it, but... it was much bigger than I was, even when hard. It had to be over 16 centimeters. And the balls hanging right beneath weren't much smaller.

He moved his hand around it, back and forth, not even caring that I was here. The skin around his head moved in the same rhythm as his hand. His member quickly grew, reaching at least 20 centimeters, probably more. His second hand joined the first to work on it. Even his hips joined the effort, trusting between his own hands. He was softly moaning, but the sounds of his moans were covered by his balls slapping his own thighs.

I stared at him, going at it for about 10 minutes, unable to take my eyes off it. I noticed every detail, like it getting veinier and veinier or the translucid liquid that he kept leaking. It throbbed so much. His moans suddenly turned into grunts. He shot a first rope of his seed onto the bread. I first thought it didn't look that impressive and wondered how he made so much, but he kept shooting rope after rope for a few minutes, each rope being bigger than the previous one, until he was finished.

He was breathing heavily, and he grabbed a piece of cloth to clean his manhood with. He wiped it and put it back in his pants. He started preparing his own breakfast--a normal one. "You can eat; I told you it's time we stop the secrecy."

"Alright... If you say so." I was pretty shy about eating it in front of him, but it was just the ritual after all. It took me a few minutes to convince myself to do it. I was at first pretty neutral about it, even if the scent was already affecting me. As I began eating it, the power of it traveled throughout my whole body. I started making the face and the sounds I always made when eating it. My dad stared at me and ate his own breakfast. After a few minutes, he told me, "I'm... I'm going to eat in my room; I forgot I had something to do there." I didn't notice him readjusting his pants as he left the room.