Nothing better than Monday oatmeal

by Mask

Spencer would love nothing more than to live out his idyllic life while caring for his two perfect older sons. His days are always the same, except for his devilish youngest child who always seems to be causing issues for the household.

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked. Turning 50 had been the death knell for his bones, but he’d made sure to keep his muscles in top shape. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. He could feel his large hairy pecs through the surface of the fabric. He thanked God every day that he was able to keep in such top shape even at his age.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king sized remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Ever since his rotten, cheating, filthy wife had left him 10 years ago, he’d never touched it. Best to leave it.

Spencer made his way to closet, making sure to take extra special care to select only the finest suit. Even on a Monday morning, it’s always good to go into work dressed well.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, he nearly ran right into his son Neil.

“Whoa there, pops!” Neil said, jumping back. At 6’ 5”, Neil was only a few inches taller than his father. But he was more than a few pounds bulkier. His t-shirt strained against well formed pectorals and biceps. His boxer shorts wrapped around enormous thighs and a large endowment. He was even a champion wrestler at his college, a two time state champ. Spencer could not help but be proud of him.

“Now, Neil,” Spencer said. He did his best to frown a little, but couldn’t help a small smile. “You must be more careful in this household.”

Neil smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. His chiseled jaw blushed red. Without another word he hurried off behind his father. Spencer couldn’t help but smile. He’d always been so proud of his first born.

Making his way down the hall, he peeked his head into his second-born’s room. Paul was diligently preparing himself, turning to smile at his father.

“Good morning, Father!” Paul said smiling. He was tying a tie over his crisp-looking dress shirt. “I have to leave early today, Pastor has a special class prepared.”

Spencer smiled. Paul had taken a calling as a pastor, and was pursuing a degree at a local community college. With a quick nod, Paul squeezed his large frame out of his door. Despite not taking a liking to any sport, Paul made sure to keep his body in tip top shape. His wide gait made for a powerful figure in the pulpit. Combined with his deep booming voice, most girls were always upset to learn he’d taken an oath of celibacy.

Shuffling down the stairs, Spencer made his way to the kitchen and prepared himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Monday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Sunday morning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Good morning, dad,” came a voice from behind him. Spencer stiffened and made his best effort to smile. He turned to greet his third son, Deacon. Deacon was not the man his brothers had turned out to be, nor did he have their upstanding character. At only 5’ 6”, his thin frame left his shirt baggy around his body. His face was comparable to the neighbor’s dog, and his posture was shallow and unwieldy. Beyond his physical shortcomings, he had some… unsavory promiscuities. He was the splitting image of his mother, but didn’t seem to have a single one of Spencer’s manly features.

“Can you pass me some corn flakes?” Deacon asked. Deacon had already sat down with a bowl and spoon. His eyes were drooping with sleep, and he slumped in his chair. Probably up all night watching those sinful videos in his room. Spencer didn’t even want to think about that awful topic. Some words were just too much to even put to mind let alone word.

“Shouldn’t you have something healthier?” Spencer asked. He pulled out some Cheerios, Paul’s favorite, and waggled them in Deacon’s direction.

“Dad,” Deacon said slowly. His mouth hung open slightly. “It’s too early to be healthy.”

“Well, you have to be prepared for class this morning,” Spencer said, placing the Cheerios next to his son’s bowl. He did his best to appear jolly.

“Dad, I’ve told you. I don’t have any classes on Monday,” Deacon said. He rested his head in his hand. “I planned it that way. You’re the one who makes me get up at 6:00.”

“Now, Deacon,” Spencer said sternly. He frowned and shook his head. His damn son was among the most lethargic, good for nothing, poor-working men he’d ever met. If only he were as good as the examples his brothers set. “You know better than to talk back to me.”

Deacon didn’t respond, or even emote. Instead, he just pulled out his phone. Spencer fumed internally, but made sure to maintain a controlled parental attitude on the outside. Phones were not allowed at the table, even if eating alone. His confessor suggested tolerance and patience as a means to get Deacon to change, so Spencer simmered his temper down. He went back to spinning his oatmeal and made idle conversation.

“Whatcha looking at?” Spencer said, trying to sound casual and “hip.” He glanced up at Deacon, but he still had his head in his phone. His son furrowed his brow, and Spencer’s temperature raised. “Something wrong?”

“Oh no no no, you’re fine, Dad,” he said. His eyes had opened wide. Deacon’s fingers made that characteristic scrolling action he’d seen so often. Spencer, genuinely intrigued now, turned to face his son, leaning over the counter. Deacon waved a hand at him. “Just some posts about this app.”

“What’s the app’s name?” Spencer asked politely.

“Changr, without an e,” Deacon mumbled. He began to work around his phone frantically. Spencer shook his head. Most kids these days were addicted to their phones, and his own son had fallen under the devil’s influence before with that foul thing. Spencer remembered full well the last thing that device had done to Deacon. If it hadn’t been necessary in the modern world, they wouldn’t have one. Having already forgotten the name, Spencer turned to his son.

“What doe—”

“Hold on, dad,” Deacon said. His face was close into his phone and he was furiously typing and swiping. Spencer could have killed him, but strictly speaking that was against his religion.

“Deacon Howard, I have never been so disrespected in my entire life,” Spencer said firmly. He crossed to the other side of the counter and slammed his hands down on the table. “Look at me when I’m talking to you son.”

Suddenly, Deacon let out a loud cry. His face lit up with excitement, eyes wider than a kid on Christmas during prayer. He even stood up out of his seat and stared directly at Spencer.

“What in God’s name has gotten into you?” Spencer shouted. He flinched a little at his own phrasing. Deacon simply smiled and pointed at his biceps. He flexed them, showing the mighty grooves and mountains that made up his monstrous arms. His arms jumped from glute to abdomen, forearms to feet. “Deacon, I’m talking to you.”

“What—you don’t, you see—” Deacon sputtered. He was still smiling and pointed at his own enormous arms. He ran his pointer finger across his forearm, emphasizing the bumps and grooves. Again he continued to gesture about his body at random. Spencer sputtered and was lost for words.

“I have half a mind to take your damn door of your room, young man,” Spencer said. His face surely must have been red, and he was gripping the table. “What you’re doing is—is—is… it’s like you’re possessed!”

“Ooooooooh!” Deacon taunted, quivering his hands in his father’s face. He sneered and made all sorts of ghoulish noises.

“Young man!” Spencer shouted. He stood up straightener than normal.

“They’re bigger than yours! And even Neil’s!” Deacon shouted back.

“Of course the fu—of course they are,” Spencer said composing himself. Wrath was not the answer. Not with his son. “Are you taking drugs, Deacon? First you’re tired, then you’re glued to your phone, and now your arms?”

“They’re huge!” Deacon said excitedly. He physically jumped up and down. Spencer said nothing. His son’s arms had always been so well muscled, even from an early age. He never even worked them out. Spencer stared up the rest of his son’s body and shook his head.

“Hey, pops,” Neil said, walking into the kitchen. He was dressed for the day in some khakis and a nice shirt. He turned to greet his brother, but in that moment Deacon had lunged for his phone. Neil looked from his menacing father to his typing brother and quickly got the memo.

“Morning, Deacon,” Neil said. He smiled a bit and reached up to mess his brother’s hair. Deacon’s 7-foot frame made it somewhat difficult. Spencer glared at Neil, and the son put his hands up defensively. He’d always been too kind to Deacon.

Neil prepared himself some toast, and sat down next to Deacon. Spencer took the seat opposite of his youngest. Deacon just continued to type away on his phone. He even dropped it a few times, as if he’d pushed it out of his hands too hard.

“Now Deacon, son,” Spencer said. Deacon didn’t seem to notice, instead outlining one of his enormous pectorals with a solitary finger. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, son.”

Deacon looked up and grinned. His green eyes and glowing complexion only made it worse for Spencer. Of course Deacon had to be the one to turn out this good-looking. Why couldn’t he have used his gifts for good instead of choosing to be so sinful? It must have been his wife. He’d always thought Deacon wasn’t his. Deacon looked nothing like Spencer.

“We need to have a serious discussion about that phone of yours,” Spencer said sternly.

“It’s pretty handy, isn’t it?” Deacon said smiling. He flexed his smooth arms and winked at Spencer. Neil snorted, and Spencer kicked him under the table with a powerfully placed shoe. Neil flinched, but was made of tough stuff and did nothing more.

“I think you’ve become much too addicted to it,” Spencer said.

“Oh, lay off him a while—” Neil started.

“You will not interrupt me when I’m speaking, Neil,” Spencer said. Neil shut his mouth quickly, chewing his toast quietly. Spencer couldn’t believe he was having to waste precious morning time on this. He turned to his other son, when he heard a loud tearing noise and was suddenly struck by a piece of cloth in the face.

“Aw, come on Deacon,” he heard Neil say. Spencer grabbed the ripped cotton and threw it aside. He glimpsed Deacon flexing his entire upper body, before he saw it relaxed. He was grinning, and rubbing his ten-pack of abs gently. He was in the same mad state he’d been in earlier, rubbing and feeling all of his muscles like some kind of crazed animal. He almost looked feral, and Spencer could swear he saw the devil in his son’s eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” Spencer said snapping. He stood up. This had become too much. Stray cotton littered the table and floor. A few pieces lay on his coat and Neil’s shirt. Deacon just smiled and rested his head on one of his massively built arms.

“What were you thinking?” Spencer said incredulously. “You know better than to put shirts on!”

Deacon laughed, falling to the floor with a loud thud and a slap of muscle. He was cackling so loudly with his deep booming voice. The sight was absurd given Deacon’s enormous size.

“Was that my shirt or Paul’s?” Neil asked. Even he looked annoyed at this point. “And aren’t those my pants?”

Deacon was heaving with laughter as he stood back up. With a loud snap, the elastic on Neil’s basketball shorts snapped, exposing Deacon’s waist. Underneath, boxer shorts strained until they met a similar fate. With mighty force, Deacon’s fourteen inch member strained outwards, leaving nothing but tatters on the ground.

“If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, Deacon,” Spencer yelled. He only raised his voice when he was truly angry, when one of his sons had done something horrible. “You should know better.”

“Not cool, dude,” Neil said calmly, shaking his head. He looked away, well aware of the fury that his father would unleash. The Bible says to listen to one’s father, and Spencer enforced that rule in his home. Righteous anger was allowed when his rules were broken.

“You know it’s not good for you to wear clothes,” Spencer said. He was so angry, spittle came out from his mouth. One drop even made it so far as to glisten on Deacon’s hairless chest. “You’ve ruined your brothers’ clothes. Next time I see you, you had better be naked, son, do you hear me?”

Deacon snorted and nodded his head. He was struggling to contain himself. Neil suddenly covered his eyes, and I saw why. Deacon’s member, once a perfectly normal limp was now rock solid and standing at half-mast. The thought that his son was getting some kind of sexually perverse enjoyment out of this sickened Spencer.

“Please don’t be indecent,” Spencer said, averting his eyes. In his peripheral vision, he could see Deacon only shrug. He grabbed his phone and walked away, still chuckling. Spencer shook his head as he watched his son walk away, butt bouncing behind him.

“Sometimes, Neil,” Spencer said. He placed a hand against his forehead.

“You’re too hard on him. It was probably just a prank,” Neil reassured him. He’d cleaned up his plate and rested his hand on his father’s shoulder.

Neil grabbed a framed photo from the counter and handed it to his father. It was taken about a year ago at Christmas. There, at the pulpit, stood Neil, the pastor, and his three children. Paul had been allowed to give part of the Christmas sermon, and the photo had been taken in celebration. There, Paul stood in his robes side by side with Pastor. Spencer stood next to his son, holding back tears. Neil was next, followed by Deacon. He was a head taller and much wider than his brothers, so the camera man had had to take a wider shot. Deacon had been smiling, which he didn’t do around Spencer much these days. His enormous hands rested right above his crotch, though his member was still visible as it hung limply down his bare leg. His naked skin was so smooth you could see some of the light from the camera flash bouncing off of it.

“I just don’t know what to do with him,” Spencer said, his voice quivering a bit. Neil began to pick up torn fabric and elastic. “Always on his phone, never having conversation, and now… wearing clothes. What would make him do something like that? When you have children you’ll understand, Neil.”

Neil nodded knowingly, as he always did. Spencer smiled. The kitchen clock began to chime its tune, signaling the hour. Spencer patted his son on the back, and headed off to his morning commute.

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked. Turning 50 had not been easy, he’d always known his youth couldn’t last forever. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. He could feel his large hairy abs through the surface of the fabric. He thanked God every day that he was able to keep in such top shape even at his age.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Ever since he’d caught his rotten, cheating wife in it with another man, it remained untouched.

Spencer made his way to closet, making sure to take extra special care to select only the finest suit. Even on a Tuesday morning, it’s always good to go into work dressed well.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, he nearly ran right into his son Neil.

“W-w-whoa there pops!” Neil said, jumping back. His eyes look a little frazzled. His hair looked completely unkempt and the t-shirt he was wearing was crinkled and deformed. His eyes drooped, and large bags could be seen underneath them.

“Are you all right?” Spencer asked. “You look like you didn’t sleep too well.”

“Well,” Neil said quickly. His entire demeanor changed. His face lit up with an almost dreamy smile. His eyes went out of focus, dilating as if remembering something. He stood there for nearly two seconds before continuing. “I wouldn’t say it was all that bad.”

Spencer’s eyes lowered down to his son’s midsection. His endowment was completely hard and standing at attention. There was something dripping out of it and running down the shaft to the leg. It was clear to Spencer that his son was not wearing any undergarments, and had hastily put on these pants.

Spencer furrowed his brow, but said nothing. If that was how his son wanted to spend his evening then so be it. As long as his brother gave him enough time to prepare for the day like the respectable man he was supposed to be. Neil’s face went dreamy again, and his hand slowly made its way towards his large endowment.

“Not in my house, Neil,” Spencer said firmly. He forcefully grabbed his son’s hand and looked directly into his eyes. Neil sobered up immediately, and his face turned red, and with a nod abashedly shuffled off to his room.

Making his way down the hall, he peeled his head into his second-born’s room. Paul was diligently preparing himself, turning to smile at his father.

“Good morning, Father!” Paul said smiling. He was tying a tie over his dress shirt. “I have to leave early, Pastor has another special class prepared for today.”

Spencer smiled. Paul shook his head with feigned annoyance before smiling. With a quick nod, Paul squeezed his large frame out of his door. Spencer knew his son worked hard, but he wished he’d settled down some days and take it easy.

Shuffling down the stairs, Spencer made his way to the kitchen and prepared himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Tuesday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Monday morning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Good morning, dad,” came a voice from behind him. Spencer stiffened and made his best effort to smile. He turned to greet his third son, Deacon. Deacon ducked and walked through the kitchen doorway, cheerfully smiling at his father. His enormous 7’ 3” frame made it difficult for him to navigate through some of the door frames, not that Spencer really cared. He was even considering lowering them.

“Everything all right today, dad?” Deacon asked, smiling. Spencer turned, and couldn’t help himself but frown. His son was acting very oddly. Usually, he was barely awake. Spencer furrowed his brow, looking his son up and down.

“Ohhhh, I see,” Deacon said with a sarcastic smile. He took his free hand and pointed at the other, which was resting around his endowment and rubbing it at a regular interval. “Is this bothering you?”

“Why would that bother me, son?” Spencer said, genuinely puzzled. “Unless you’ve wrapped a sock around it. You know I’m still not happy about yesterday.”

Deacon laughed. He continued to rub his member, and grabbed his chest as he heaved with laughter over some joke that only he could conceive of. The periodic slapping noise his hand made was actually quite normal. You could always hear it if you were on the same floor as him and he was always doing it. Though Spencer wouldn’t even dare to think about the words associated with the act, it was quite normal for his son.

“I really don’t see what’s so funny Deacon,” Spencer replied. He returned to his oatmeal without another word, bent on ignoring Deacon. Eventually his son would find some sense in him. Deacon kept on laughing.

Eventually, the joke did become unfunny, and Deacon sat down at his usual part of the small table. Immediately, he whipped out his phone. Deacon did have that bad habit of producing his possessions from nothing. Without any pockets, what else was he to do?

“You are addicted to that thing Deacon,” Spencer said immediately. Spencer worried that if he couldn’t get Deacon to go see the confessor, he’d never get off that cursed phone. “You never put it down.”

Deacon just continued to type. The room remained silent except for the tapping of character and the slow methodical noise of Deacon’s member. Spencer harrumphed slightly to try and get his son’s attention, but the gargantuan man paid him no heed.

“Are you listening to me, Deacon?” Spencer asked indignantly. Deacon put down his phone and looked up at his father.

“Sorry, I was just jacking off my cock,” Deacon said without missing a beat.

“Language,” Spencer said spinning around. His son stopped stroking his endowment and stared up at him in bewilderment. “Don’t give me that look, Deacon. There are clear rules in this household, and I expect you to follow them. Foul words whether thought or spoken are not permitted in my household. Understood?”

Before Deacon could respond, Neil made his presence known as he dipped down beneath the door frame to enter the kitchen. Nonetheless, he immediately collided with the top of the frame, stifling a curse and grabbing his head.

“We really ought to raise those things,” Spencer said shaking his head. He’d nearly forgotten what had just transpired moments ago. His anger washed away at the sight of his eldest son.

“Well I haven’t exactly been 7 feet tall for only a day dad,” Neil said angrily. “10 years I’ve had to put up with this. Deacon’s even taller than I am.”

“I know son,” Spencer said soothingly. He was considering raising the frames to a little over 7 feet, that way Neil could walk through them but the 8 foot tall Deacon could not.

Spencer watched as Neil sat down next to his brother in his usual chair. Neil scratched at his smooth bare chest and smiled as Spencer handed him some warm oatmeal. Deacon hadn’t said a word, but was just staring at his elder brother with considerable intent. Spencer could hear the methodical scrunching noise hasten. Spencer didn’t mind that his son played with his endowment as long as he kept his mouth clean.

“Are you ready for your tournament tonight, Neil?” Spencer said making small talk. The tournament wasn’t too big, but it was something Neil had been preparing for.

“You bet!” Neil said excitedly. He flexed his mountainous arms. They were naturally strong, built up by good genetics and a healthy devotion to the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Rippling bumps of perfectly shaped muscles had never seen a day at the gym. Just as God intended.

“Got any good moves planned?” Spencer asked, stirring his oatmeal. Neil’s eyes lit up as he jumped out of his chair.

“I’ve got a new one, no name for it yet!” His other son’s eyes lit up, but Spencer ignored him. Neil stood in a squatted position with his arms stretched around some imaginary wrestler, leaning backwards while still standing firm thanks to his impressive core.

“First I just grab him with my arms, same as normal,” Neil said, making sure to flex all of the necessary muscles. Spencer laughed. Neil was in the top weight bracket, but even then still stood at least a head if not more above all his competitors. Most of them were only there because they had some unwieldy growth spurt in puberty, but Neil’s strength and build was au naturale and perfectly fine tuned. With his strength, he could lift two or three other people into the air, and often did so at practice.

“Then I make sure that my co—” Neil’s hand flew to his mouth as he stared at his glaring father. “Then I make sure that my member is ready to grab them from beneath.”

Neil gestured at his member, which he instantly made hard on command. The already large item stretched out like a flagpole, resting at the length of one of Neil’s arms. He then made a motion of grabbing the imaginary wrestler with all three appendages combined, the incredible dexterity of his member on full display.

“Once they’re in the air, I bring them to my chest and pull them down!” Neil said. He dramatically slammed his enormous fists against his watermelon pectorals, which he bounced in tow. He then flipped over the imaginary wrestler, pinning them to the ground with an loud smack of naked skin.

It was at this moment that Deacon let out a guttural cry. Spencer’s eyes immediately turned to look at his youngest, who was now furiously rubbing his endowment with enough force to shear steel. He was leaning all the way back in his chair, sweat flowing down his smooth skin. Muscles were clenched furiously from arms to hands, pecs to abs.

With an audible gush, enormous quantities of semen gushed out of his son’s endowment. It sprayed like a cartoon fire house, dousing the chairs, the table, the ceiling, and even Spencer and Neil. The room temperature raised slightly as the hot liquid fell in thick globs around the room.

Just as soon as it started, it was over. The room was completely silent save for the dripping of the foulest-smelling material Spencer had ever come across. He looked down at himself and began to boil over with renewed anger. Of all the inconsiderate things his son would do this had to be one of them.

“D-DE,” Spencer sputtered, at a loss for words. This was his new suit. Once a crisp business black, it was now stained by an enormous sticky white mess from head to toe.

“Whoa,” Deacon gasped. He leaned himself backward in his chair. His free arm dangled at his side while his other fell limp around his endowment, moving at a much slower tempo than before.

“Deacon Howard,” Spencer screamed. “You’ve ruined my best Tuesday suit.”

“Not cool,” Neil said. His face turned into a pathetic frown and he looked like he might cry. He took his finger and scooped up a bit of semen from his bare abs and slurped it into his mouth. “You could have asked me. I’d have been happy to take it.”

“Do you even realize how inconsiderate you are?” Spencer demanded. He gestured towards Neil who was grabbing up mouthfuls of Deacon’s spunk to eat. “Neil is right here, all you had to do was ask him. Is that so hard for you to do?”

“I have never cummed like that before,” Deacon said flatly. His voice was monotone, like all the emotion had dropped out of him. He fell backwards completely, crushing the small chair beneath his enormous body. Spencer stood dumbfounded at the absurd statement.

“Lang—” Spencer started, but stopped. The kitchen clock was chiming its tune, signaling the hour. Spencer raised his hand and wiped some semen from his brow, before storming off to his room.

Soaking wet, he quickly grabbed a towel, wiping what spunk he could from his face and hands. He was met by Neil, who had grabbed his second favorite Tuesday suit from the closet.

“At least you have the sense to not wear any clothes,” Spencer huffed. He quickly dried himself, flinging his clothes down onto the floor. A small pool of semen pooled around the clothes.

“He’s not all that bad, Pops,” Neil said. He wrapped his arm around his father’s bare shoulder. “He’s offered for you to join us at night.”

Spencer shook his head in shame. Had his other sons asked him to sleep the night away having sex he’d gladly abide. But this third son of his was just… he couldn’t do it. Spencer knew his sons loved bedding with Deacon, though he couldn’t comprehend why. He gently lifted Neil’s arm off his own and began to dress himself anew.

Neil picked up a framed photo sitting on a nearby dresser and handed it to his father. Spencer picked it up and stared at it. It had been taken over a year ago, at a family outing to a ski hill. There be stood proudly beside his three sons. He was, of course, bundled with three layers of coats, furs, and scarves. Paul was wearing ski goggles and a trendy, multicolored winter coat. His hat bore a cross, a gift from a churchgoer.

On either side flanked Neil and Deacon. Neil was a head taller than the rest of his family, and Deacon was even taller. Neil was resting one hand behind Paul’s shoulder while the other made a peace sign and rested on his bare chest. He was using his member to grip his skiing poles to his chest. On the far side was Deacon, warmly smiling with one arm resting on Spencer’s shoulder, the other lying around his member. He and Neil shined so brightly against the reflective snow, it made Spencer shed a tear.

“I just don’t know what to do with him,” Spencer said, his voice quivering a bit. Neil handed his father a dark maroon tie, his second favorite to wear on a Tuesday. “First it was the clothes, now it’s this willful indecency. And the language! God the language, too!”

Neil shed a tear. He sniffled a bit as he grabbed some leftover spunk to suck on from his foot. Neil would always take Deacon’s enormous emissions with pride and dignity. Spencer couldn’t remember the last time Deacon had blasted a room like that.

“I know how much you love it when he orgasms in your mouth. I can’t believe he didn’t ask you. What would make him do something like that? When you have children you’ll understand, Neil.”

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked, and he grabbed one and winced. Turning 50 had left him feeling sorer and sore every morning. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. He could feel his sculpted laterals through the surface of the fabric. He thanked God every day that he was able to keep in such top shape even at his age.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king sized bed remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Sometimes he could still feel that rotten, cheating wife of his lying there. Some things are better left alone—at least, that’s what he liked to think.

Spencer made his way to closet, making sure to take extra special care to select only the finest suit. Even on a Wednesday morning, it’s always good to go into work dressed well.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, he nearly ran right into his son Neil. He was walking around, fist grasping his endowment firmly.

“Whoa, pops,” Neil said, lifting his free hand to stop him. “We almost had a serious accident!”

He continued to rub his enormous member and closed his eyes. With a rush of motion, Neil arched his back as his endowment unleashed a torrent of semen, drenching the walls and carpet in front of him. Spencer reached upwards to rest a hand on his son’s shoulder and smiled.

“Thank you for being so considerate Neil,” Spencer said smiling. Neil let out a heavy heave and smiled with a red face. He hurried off, still rubbing his member as he walked. The methodically rhythm and the percussive slap of it had always been so comforting to Spencer. Knowing his eldest son was just around the corner was always so wonderful.

Making his way down the hall, he peered his head into his second-born’s room. Paul was diligently preparing himself, and turned to smile at his father.

“Good morning, Father!” Paul said smiling. He was fashioning his vestments around his neck, making sure they were perfectly even along his shoulders. Spencer smiled. Paul walked over and grinned at his father. He looked high over his father at a tall but manageable 7 feet tall.

“Pastor is letting me give the entire Wednesday morning sermon! All by myself!” Paul said excitedly.

“That’s great news Paul!” Spencer said. He was at a loss for words. He could cry, he was so proud. Instead, he just reached up to rest his hand on his son’s bare shoulder. Paul smiled, before rushing away. His vestments barely reached to his crotch where his hand lay, rubbing his endowment as he hurried off.

Shuffling down the stairs, Spencer made his way to the kitchen. The furniture and walls had thankfully dried since yesterday, so he began to prepare himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Wednesday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Tuesday morning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Good morning, dad,” came a voice from behind him along with a recognizable rhythmic noise. Spencer stiffened and made his best effort to smile. He was always able to recognize his children by the sound of them rubbing their member. Most other parents never believed him, but it was true. By the time he turned around to greet his third son, Deacon was already standing next to the table, his enormous 8 foot frame looming over him. Deacon was just standing there with a stupid grin.

“Notice anything different?” Deacon asked. He cocked himself to one side, and then another. Again, he was stifling a laugh. Spencer knew his son’s jokes were tiresome, but he decided to play along. He was in a good mood since talking with Paul, and a good Christian does good unto others.

“New hairdo?” Spencer suggested. Deacon shook his head and sat down at the table. He set his endowment neatly against it as he continued to rub it.

“Hmmm,” Spencer mumbled, feigning deep thought. There really was nothing out of the ordinary. Deacon’s other body walked up beside himself and began to point at his body with his other free hand like he was Vanna White. The seated body made mocking faces and scrunched his face to match Spencer’s expression.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Deacon’s table body asked. He flexed a monstrous bicep before squeezing the standing Deacon’s enormous pec.

“I give up, tell me,” Spencer said insincerely. He put his arms up in mock defeat before stirring his oatmeal. Both of Deacon’s bodies laughed. It made Spencer feel good that he’d had a good interaction with his son. Something to tell his-

“That’s a shame,” the standing Deacon said. The sitting deacon turned his head and opened his mouth as the standing one inserted his member. The sitting body began to caress and slurp at his other body’s member. “Guess you’ll just have to live not knowing!”

Spencer grumbled. Knowing Deacon, it was probably nothing. Maybe he got a high score on a new hip app or something. He hated his son’s haughtiness. Both Deacons began to moan loudly, and became very touchy-feely with each other. Each of their fine muscles clenched with the ebb and flow of their motions.

“Deacon,” Spencer said impatiently. He turned to stare, but neither of his son’s bodies looked at him. They were too focused in their act.

“Deacon!” Spencer said. More forcefully this time. As the patriarch of the household, he expected obedience. The standing Deacon made a half hearted mhmm before moaning loudly.

“Deacon look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Spencer said. He raised his voice, but not his tone. Another recommendation from his Confessor. The standing Deacon, heaving and thrusting his lower body into himself, opened his eyes and looked at his father. His eyes were wide, fuzzy, and unfocused. His hairless bodies were dripping with sweat, and it was pooling at the floor beneath the table. Even now his standing body had his phone in his hand.

“Wuh?” was all his son could manage.

“Try to keep it down a little?” Spencer asked politely. Both Deacon’s nodded and continued their intercourse. Shockingly, they did lower their volume, quietly screaming instead of moaning. Spencer was impressed. His son almost never listened to his requests to turn their volume down.

“Hey pops!” Neil shouted over Deacon as he walked into the kitchen. Even with Deacon’s quiet yells, Spencer could still hear the regular rubbing of Neil’s own enormous member. His son’s member hung incredibly low, well past the knee. It turned out that Neil actually held the world record for largest… member. It was so large that you could fit four fists around it with space to spare. Deacon had tried calling Guinness, but Neil was humble enough to worry about more godly affairs.

“Aw sweet, Deacon! Hold on!” Neil shouted. At that very exclamation, visible liquid began to pour out of Neil’s member. He hurried over to his younger brother, grabbing the sitting body’s free member. The standing Deacon quickly grabbed Neil’s own endowment and brought it up to suck on for himself. Each of the three bodies present were all tall enough (and had long enough endowments), that the process was easy in their present positions.

Spencer just grumbled as he chewed at his oatmeal. Even through the loud moans, screams, and rubbing of endowments, Spencer could still think remarkably clearly. The floor rumbled beneath his feet, but the feverish nature of his sons was nothing out of the ordinary. He never understood why Neil was so soft on Deacon. The boy was a menace, and it was like Neil just didn’t care.

At that moment, all three bodies heaved in unison, thrusting and sucking away. Spencer could hear it coming before he even saw. Over the noise of the men came the rushing sound of a deluge. Each man released Olympic sized swimming pool quantities of semen into each other. Each man, of course, was able to take all of the hot steamy liquid straight down the throat of the other. Only a few dribbles here and there escaped the sharp jawlines of Spencer’s sons. The semen, of course, disappeared in the stomach (Galatians 6:69 after all says so).

“Fuuuuuuuccck,” shouted both Deacons as they released their respective deluges. Even with their mouths full, the word rang out loud and clear to Spencer. All three men collapsed onto the ground into a pile of sweaty, muscular flesh.

“Deacon,” Spencer said turning to the sweaty and heaving boys. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times—!”

“This language shit has got to go,” Deacon mumbled as he quickly grabbed his phone and began to type. He immediately dropped it and collapsed backwards once more.

“You need to be fucking careful!” Spencer shouted. He stormed over to the boys, who were still gasping for air on the carpet. “Your jizz is puddling up beneath you. You know pre-cum is allowed but straight cum is not to get on my fine fucking living room carpet. We just had it installed a month ago. Is that clear?”

The Deacon on the right let out a faint yes and Neil lifted his hand to make a thumbs up sign before allowing it to collapse back to the ground. Spencer let out a disgusted sigh. His sons were still jacking off their enormous cocks, as if they hadn’t just ejaculated themselves to exhaustion.

“Do you hear me Deacon?” Spencer shouted. He walked over to the pile of sweaty men. He poked at one of his son’s bodies so hard that both flinched. Sensing impending doom, Neil quickly stood up and backed away.

“If you had any kind of decency you’d be sure to cum in a different room. What if the neighbor were to see this carpet? Your brother was considerate enough to ejaculate upstairs like a fucking adult. The kitchen is only a few feet away for god’s sake!” Spencer said. Neither of the bodies responded, instead continuing to breath heavily. Neil rushed over and pulled one of the bodies away with his spare hand. Even he struggled to move the titanic hunk of muscle.

“Get up,” Spencer said. Deacon did not respond. Both of his son’s bodies had fainted, out cold yet still jacking off. He lifted the other body so that it sat upright against the couch. He wasn’t as strong as his sons, so waited for Neil to return to take the other away. With them gone, he quickly finished his oatmeal before he heard the familiar kitchen clock chiming the tune. Shortly thereafter, he heard the familiar lovely sound of Neil fapping off and turned to great him solemnly.

“He’s out cold,” Neil said. His face was a mix of latent ecstasy and concern. “Both of his bodies actually. He’s never usually like this.”

Spencer just shook his head. Neil gestured to his enormous cock, which had become hard again. Spencer smiled a ‘thank you’ to Neil, before taking his hand around it and giving it a few strokes. It was so kind of him to offer.

“You’re so well behaved Neil,” Spencer said. He tugged a bit at his son’s penis before staring wistfully off into the distance. “I just don’t know where we went wrong with Deacon.”

Neil smiled, and picked up a framed photo and handed it to his father. It was nearly a year old, and was from when the four of them had been celebrating Spencer’s 50th birthday. There he sat, smiling next to his cake. It was adorned with candles in the shape of the number 50. Paul stood next to him, leaning down so as to even be on the same level as his father. His spare arm rested around his father’s shoulder, while the other lay around his enormous dong as per usual.

And there, on the table next to the cake, we’re his other two sons. Both of Deacon’s bodies were in a 69ing circle with Neil. Their enormous, hairless, glistening bodies were draped over chairs and tables. Streams of stray cum lines soaked into their muscles and pooled on kitchen furniture and floor alike. And of course, next to them was old grandma Howard, gently resting her hand on one of Deacon’s shoulders.

Spencer shed a tear. It had really been one of the happiest moments in his life.

“Why does he always have to break all of the clearly set rules of this fucking house? This is the third day this week for fuck’s sake! One day, when you have kids, Neil, you’ll understand.”

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked, and he grabbed one and winced. Turning 50 had left him feeling sorer and sore every morning. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. He could feel his stagnant muscles, strong, but lazy after skipping so many workouts. He thanked God every day that he was able to keep in such top shape even at his age.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king sized bed remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Sometimes he could still feel that rotten, cheating wife of his lying there. It reminded him more of his awful third-born son.

Spencer made his way to closet, making sure to take extra special care to select only the finest suit. Even on a Thursday morning, it’s always good to go into work dressed well.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, he saw no one. He looked left and then right as if preparing to cross the street whereupon he heard not a soul.

Spencer cocked his head up, locating the familiar sounds of his sons having sex. Spencer smiled warmly. Brotherly love was to be strived for. He didn’t want his sons turning out like Cain and Abel.

Making his way down the hall, he peered his head into his second born’s room. Paul was diligently being fucked by Neil. The two were grunting wildly, and the thumping and slurping of cock on ass was a comforting aspect of Spencer’s morning routine.

“Daddy-o!” cried out Paul between gasps. He smiled between intense expressions of pleasure. Neil smiled at his father, before wordlessly continuing to grind his brother against the bed.

“Good morning Paul, Neil,” Spencer said smiling. “Is this practice for the pulpit?”

“Ohhhhhh, yessssss,” Paul said. He suddenly clenched himself up tightly, and with a loud roar of emotion and steamy cum, the two brothers ejaculated heavily. Paul’s ass soaked up all of Neil’s load, but Paul’s exposed cock spewed forth diluvial amounts of semen, coating his already sticky bed in another layer of cum.

After a moment of going limp, the two brothers stood up sharply, each taking care to grab their cock with one hand so they could continue to jack it off. The came over and greeted their father politely.

“I think that maneuver will go over very well,” Paul said enthusiastically. His face went a little dreamy, and several streams pre-cum made their way down Paul’s gargantuan member.

“You are always so persuasive when you get up there,” Spencer said. He shed a single solitary tear over the matter, already too much emotion for a man of his class. The two boys nodded politely, and quickly scurried off in order to make it to the morning service in time. Spencer smiled plaintively as he heard their methodical fapping fade away behind the slam of the garage door.

Shuffling down the stairs himself, Spencer made his way to the kitchen. The furniture and walls were covered in sticky splotches of cum. Some were dried and crusting, while others looked fresh, which was normal for the household. Spencer began to prepare himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Thursday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Wednesday morning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Goooooood morning, dad!” Deacon shouted as he walked into the room. Spencer jumped a little. Somehow, he hadn’t heard his youngest son walk in. Deacon was double fisting his two foot long cock with both of his bottom hands. One of his upper arms rested upon his hip, while the fourth held up his phone. “Notice anything, different?”

“Have your muscles gotten bigger?” Spencer said lazily. Deacon went to speak before stopping himself. Through the loud thumping of his cock, he quickly typed something and then turned towards Spencer again.

“As it happens, they have!” Deacon said smiling. He flexed each of his four arms, which looked like minor mountain ranges. His biceps were as big as Spencer’s head, and nearly as round.

Deacon bounced his pecs at Spencer’s direction. Spencer was, of course, jealous. Not really for himself, but more for his other two sons. Why did his third son have to turn out so god damn muscular and hot?

Deacon sat down at the table. He rested his cock on it and continued to masturbate with his lower pair of arms. His son looked confused, and was typing and looking around the kitchen. Spencer heard another nearby sound, and Deacon’s other body walked in. It too looked equally confused.

“Where’s Neil?” the standing body asked. It too was jacking off with its lower arms as well. It would be just like Deacon to have two identical bodies with rippling muscles. His other two sons may have been better looking and more muscular than any bodybuilder on the planet, but that wasn’t enough for Spencer. Deacon outshone the sun with his radiant glow. Best not to allow your hubris to overshadow the almighty.

“He went to Church this morning,” Spencer said. He tried to keep all traces of anger out of his speech. Best not to speak ill when discussing the Lord. “He usually goes with Paul to help out in the morning.”

The two bodies looked at each other. With a shared mind, who knew what Deacon’s bodies were thinking.

“You should join him sometime,” Spencer said. His son hadn’t attended church in several months, and he was only slightly worried for his immortal soul.

The sitting Deacon typed away at his phone for a bit, before the standing Deacon grabbed Neil’s spare body and began to passionately fuck it in the ass.

“Oh Neil I didn’t see you walk in,” Spencer said politely. He grabbed another bowl and filled it with oatmeal before sliding it over in his sons’ general direction. Neil said nothing, having been so overcome with ecstasy that he physically couldn’t.

Deacon’s sitting self stood up and the standing body wheeled Neil around, such that the other body began to passionately make out with Neil from the front. Such expressions of passion were not uncommon in the Howard household, though Spencer had always secretly wanted to have his third son excluded. He never participated, it was always his sons who did the fucking.

“So Neil,” Spencer started. Deacon thrust his enormous cock deeper into Neil’s ass, who let out a gasp of pure ecstasy. “How’s the service going?”

“Ohhhhh…” Neil groaned. Usually Neil was the top, but it seemed like no one was ever willing to top Deacon. Spencer’s guessed that it was made difficult by the fact that he had two bodies, but neither of Neil’s bodies ever took the opportunity. As the eldest son, Spencer would have expected his strapping handsome 8 foot tall son to take the reigns, but he never tried.

“Is it going well?” Spencer asked again. It was rude to ignore your father. Deacon seemed to intentionally distract Neil with a well timed hip thrust, or a groping hand or eight. The front deacon was jacking himself off with his lower arms, but the back Deacon had reached his monstrous hand around to grab Neil’s pitifully small 28 inch cock and was double fisting it. All other hands were grabbing and pulling at Neil’s rock hard muscle.

While Neil had a figure that rivaled any marble statue in Italy, Deacon was just too much of a comparison. His 9 foot frame and rippling muscles were so powerful, that they’d actually pulled the champion wrestler off of his feet. Neil was dangling from the air, held aloft primarily by the back Deacon’s dick and the groping arms of the collective. Every muscle of all three bodies was clenched and sweaty. Their hairless bodies shone in the sun lighting of the kitchen.

“Neil,” Spencer insisted. “How is it going at the pulpit? Is your sermon with your other body going well?”

“It’s…it’s…” Neil tried, but the back Deacon only increased his vigor. He was thrusting so fast and fluidly that Neil was being ragdolled around. For any normal person, it might have been hell, but Spencer knew that it was relatively tame for his sons. The force with which they were colliding probably could have crushed stone, and it the volume in the household had increased to a level that Spencer needed to shout.

“The sermon! Has it started yet?” Spencer shouted. Neil’s face scrunched up. It clenched along with every muscle in his body. He opened his mouth slowly, working against the incredible force bushing against it. Spencer knew exactly what was about to happen.

And then all three men exploded. The three bodies yelled out like the roaring of animals as all pressure was released. Neil took all of the back Deacon’s cum right up his ass. The other two exposed cocks spewed semen out like firehoses, coating the walls and dumping waves off steaming liquid around the kitchen. When everything settled, a thick, five inch layer of cum coated the floor.

“Deacon,” Spencer said finally losing his temper. To avoid cooking alive in the quickly heating up room, Spencer let open the door, allowing for the steamy liquid to gush outside into a well-placed drainage system. “You have intentionally been distracting me from having a fucking conversation with Neil. I have been trying to find out if he’s doing to good Lord’s work! How can you not see how important it is?”

Deacon said nothing. His bodies separated from Neil. They both had a hint of a scowl which Spencer knew was directed towards himself. Each body grabbed its own respective cock with both bottom hands before making a show of stomping out of the room.

“Obey thy Father,” Spencer said sternly. He wiped some of the cum off his forehead. It had started to drip in his eyes. He fluffed his sticky suit up a bit. The cum would dry soon enough, and it wasn’t like it was anything out of the ordinary.

Neil had collapsed on the floor, his body panting and heaving in all of its naked glory. Spencer knew that Neil had exceptional control over himself, but even two bodies was not enough to offset the enormous ecstasy that came from sex with Deacon. His body at the church was almost certainly shaky and limp. Spencer just hoped it hadn’t ruined Paul’s timing.

Neil began to snore, though his hands instinctively furled themselves around his enormous cock as he began to masturbate in his sleep. Spencer shook his head and leaned down. He brushed the cum soaked hair of his eldest son, tearing up a bit at the cruelty of his youngest.

As Spencer stood up, the clock chimed its tune, signaling the hour. Spencer sighed and his eye caught a framed photo hanging from a wall. Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle, as it was a rather absurd photograph.

His boys had been challenged to a pushup contest at the annual summer church extravaganza. Deacon was pictured doing push-ups with both of his bodies, making sure to use their lower hands to maintain masturbation on their cocks. Without the extra hands, Neil had had the ingenuity to lean against his other body, such that each could continue to jerk off while still performing push-ups as one. The boys had been at it for hours before evening forced a draw.

Spencer wiped away his remaining tears. Someday, he thought to himself. Someday Neil would understand the difficulties of children, and he would be thankful of Spencer’s hard work.

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked, and he grabbed one and winced. Turning 50 had left him feeling increasingly lethargic, like every day just drained him. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. His form was there, but only barely. He thanked God every day that he was able to keep in such amicable shape even at his age.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king sized remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Sometimes he could still feel that rotten, cheating wife of his lying there. Spencer had recently heard through the grapevine that she was in Aruba with a rich billionaire. Typical sinner.

Spencer made his way to his closet, making sure to take extra special care to select only the finest suit. Even on a Friday morning, it’s always good to go into work dressed well.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. There, he ran into Paul. Paul was lying on the ground, evidently having fainted. There was a pool of cum covering both his son and the floor.

“Poor guy,” Spencer said with a bit of remorse. “Looks like he had an accident without any asshole to cum in.”

Paul was methodically jerking off his cock as he let out a faint snore. Spencer patted his son’s head, and even squeezed an enormous pectoral with great difficulty. At its full strength, Paul’s pec probably could have supported a two story building.

Making his way down the hall, he peered his head into his second-born’s room. Paul’s second body was diligently being fucked by one of Neil’s. The two were grunting wildly, and the thumping and slurping of cock on ass was a comforting aspect of Spencer’s morning routine.

The affair between his sons was so loud, the two didn’t even hear Spencer come in. Neil’s four legs straddled Paul as he rode into him like a racehorse. His twin stiff cocks both dug into Paul’s ass without any difficulty.

Spencer knew that Paul took Fridays off, which he greatly respected. His son needed time off, and it allowed him to catch up a bit with his older brother.

After taking a moment to observe his favorite sons in the throes of passion, he shuffled down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen. There he discovered his remaining son, along with other the bodies of his first-born.

Deacon was using three of his bodies to senselessly pound Neil’s remaining three bodies into various parts of the first floor. One Neil was face first into the sofa, barely visible. Another had been shoved against the steel reinforced wall that had been out in for this specific purpose. The third poor Neil was shoved into the ground by a Deacon that was doing an odd gyrating push-up motion. Deacon’s fourth body was sitting at the kitchen table, jacking off both of his cocks with his bottom two hands. Despite the enormity of them, Deacon was large enough that the size of his hands easily strode up and down the cocks seamlessly. This Deacon was simply staring at his phone placidly, scrolling infinitely through some soul crushing social media app.

Spencer began to prepare himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Friday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Thursday morning, but beggars can’t be choosers.

None of the Neils were in any capacity to speak, and merely moaned even louder as the usual sign of acknowledgement in the household. It had been a while since Spencer had had a prolonged conversation with him. Barring the one being pounded into the ground, each of the Neils’ double cocks were being jacked off by each Deacon’s two lower hands. The other set groped and groomed wildly about.

“So, uh, Deacon,” Spencer shouted over the sheer decibel level in the house. “What are you up to?”

Deacon didn’t respond. It was entirely reasonable that he didn’t hear Spencer, but Spencer knew that he had. Deacon was excellent at ignoring his father. Not wanting to walk over, Deacon began to make a big show of himself in the kitchen.

“Deacon!” he said louder. “I’m talking to you!”

Again, Deacon ignored him. He used one of his middle arms to scratch and itch he had on one of his pecs. Spencer had to admit, with six arms and four massive pectorals, the extra surface area ought to have made for a lot more itches.

Spencer watched at the next nearest Deacon lifted Neil’s body off of the floor and screamed as the two released their loads. While Neil took all of Deacon’s load, Deacon expertly aimed Neil’s twin cocks into his mouth and the mouth of the Deacon at the table. The thick fire house cocks spewed a single swift moving stream of cum into the mouths for upwards of three minutes before the stopped, leaving a short trail of steaming semen on the ground.

Neil dropped off of his brother’s cock and wiped his sweaty forehead before kindly greeting Spencer.

“Is there any more oatmeal?” he asked. He was panting a bit, and his chest was heaving in and out. His spare hand rested on his waist, and all four of his legs were quivering. Spencer knew his son was trying to remain strong and seem tough, very admirable.

“Of course!” smiled Spencer. He procured a bowl he’d already prepared, and reached above his head to hand it to his towering son. Neil smiled, taking the time to grasp his cocks with his lower set of arms so that he could eat.

Deacon stretched out all of his limbs before walking over to his other body at the table. The table body stood up as the other plunged his enormous arm length cock into the other’s ass. The original table Deacon’s second head spun around like an owl and began to make out with the other body. Six arms groped around to the first body as the four lowest arms of the front helped out.

“Deacon, I’ve been trying to get your attention,” Spencer said. The remaining head didn’t look up, instead continuing to scroll through the phone like his father wasn’t even there.

“Deacon, I’m aware that you are ignoring me,” Spencer said loudly, raising his voice above the original shout that he was using before. Instead of a dignified response, all bodies let out a deep, sensual groan. Even Neil’s disconnected body had to set his oatmeal down as he was overcome by some grand bout of pleasure. All exposed cocks began to leak pre cum, and puddles quickly formed.

“Gosh if only there were a few fucking more of you!” Spencer cried out. He swung his arms up in the air in annoyance. “Then I could actually hold a conversation with you!”

For a brief moment, all sound stopped in the house. It was only for a fraction of a fraction of a second, but the moment was noticeable. It was like some thought, some pure emotion was simultaneously spread across the room. Spencer felt a chill run down his spine, as if some malevolent unseeable force was now looking at him with great animosity.

“You’re right dad,” Deacon said through his remaining head. He continued to rail Neil into the sofa, thrusting his massive cock up his brother’s ass I’m even harder. The sound of reinforced steel shattering could be heard from the other room. The two bodies in the kitchen increased their ferocity. The lone Neil, seemingly possessed by this powerful force, dropped his oatmeal and began to jack both of his cocks off with great ferocity. “If only there were even more of me.”

For a moment, Deacon looked around as if he were missing something. His solo head began to smile maniacally, and it pushed several buttons on his phone with pomp and gravitas.

“So, how’s this for numbers?” came a voice from behind Spencer.

“Jesus fucking Christ Deacon, you know full well I do not appreciate you sneaking up on me,” Spencer said turning around. He shook his head furiously and glared at the nearest of the 8 Deacons that now crowded the kitchen. All of them were laughing hysterically, and even body numbers 9 through 12 were chuckling as they whispered sweet nothings into the lone Neil’s ear. Neil was shaking now, overcome with primal emotion.

All of Deacon’s bodies began to masturbate again, filling the room with the same loud fapping noise that Spencer was used to hearing. The cacophony actually began to shake the house, which despite his distress Spencer knew was the norm.

Body paired up with body, and a dog pile of enormous, nine foot tall men grew on the kitchen floor. The writhing mass of muscle and limbs let off a scent wave of pure sex, knocking Spencer back.

“Are you all right?” Spencer said with genuine concern. He turned to face his son with genuine concern as the wriggling mass of flesh drowned out his question. “You’bve been acting awfully fucking strange lately.”

Deacon merely dropped his phone as he turned his original table body back onto his other body. Spencer watched as Neil was helplessly dragged into the kitchen dogpile, moaning helplessly as he was pleasured by 8 other men.

Spencer took this lack of a response as a ‘Fuck You Dad!’ statement that questioned his authority. A quick glance at the clock showed that he had very little time, so he quickly returned to his oatmeal. It was too loud in the house to hear the clock chime.

As he quickly slurped it up, his sons’ combined 15 bodies all yelled out in unison. Instinctually, Spencer slammed his hand into a nearby button on the wall. The nearby back door immediately swung itself open.

Without even looking behind him, Spencer could hear the deluge of sweat and cum rush out all at once as his sons screamed with primal pleasure. A wave of hot sticky liquid slammed into Spencer, though he’d already gripped the counter top. The wave crested over the countertop, before streaming out the back door with the rest of the cum.

Spencer turned around to see his son panting and wheezing with great effort. He wiped off a bit of jizz from his forehead and delicately shook off what he could. Each of Deacon’s bodies had let go of each other and had returned their lower pair of hands to their throbbing hard cocks, though they were masturbating at a much slower speed. He shook his head disapprovingly. Turning to grab his oatmeal, his shoe accidentally hooked around one of his son’s massive legs, and he found himself falling down. He landed face first into one of Deacon’s cocks, taking a bad punch to the eye.

“Deacon!” Spencer shouted as he made great effort to pull himself off of the dying orgy of bodies littering the kitchen floor. As he stumbled, he lost his grip on what remained of his Friday oatmeal, and watched in horror as it spilled out over the one of his son’s set of abs.

“My Friday oatmeal,” cried Spencer. At the same time came a cry from the living room at he heard Deacon slam Neil into the sofa and release his load. A second came from the other room, and the orgy Neil stiffened again as the pleasure of his other bodies washed through him. Neil let out a deep gasp, gushing out a small kiddie pool sized amount of spunk from each body. Most of it was immediately flushed out the back door, but some trickled over to the flustered Spencer, who had finally stood up.

“Deacon,” Spencer said, turning towards the nearest body. Deacon was heaving, but smiled as he stood to face his father, the incidental Neil was once again sitting suspended in the air on his dick. Neil moaned slightly, so Deacon took two of his hands and began to jack off Neil’s throbbing cocks.

“What…Dad?” he said through labored breaths. His began to thrust his cock up Neil’s ass again, trapping him in a back and forth motion with his hand. Neil’s eyes looked white as he let out a ghastly groan that could on be interpreted as extreme pleasure.

“Deacon, you know how much I love Friday oatmeal. It’s second only to—”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Tuesday Oatmeal or whatever,” Deacon yammered. With his free hand he feigned a mouth and rolled his eyes. “Changr mentioned that or something.”

“What?” Spencer cried, arms outstretched. He would have retorted, but the familiar chime of the kitchen clock rolled the hour, finally audible after the cacophony ended.

“Shit,” Spencer swore. He scratched some dried cum off of his smart watch and saw that he was going to be late for a meeting. He pointed a finger at Deacon, but he’d already turned away again, pounding Neil so hard, a (muscular) human shaped indent had appeared in the wall. Spencer signed, covering his face. They had steel reinforced walls for a reason, and Deacon was just blatantly ignoring them.

Spencer stepped over his son’s other bodies and waded through some leftover jizz that had made it into the foyer. Before he left, he noticed a photo on the wall. It was taken many years ago, shortly after his rotten wife had given birth to his rotten third son. One of the last vestiges of her still allowed in the household.

He stood off to one side of the bed, smiling proudly. His arms were reaching up to his two elder son’s shoulders. Even from a young age, they had always been 8 feet tall and insanely muscular. They were both smiling, one set of arms around Spencer and their other body, and the other placed delicately around their cocks.

Lying in the bed was his cheating wife. She was smiling, and sitting around her were the dodectuplets she’d given birth to. It was hard to believe that all of Deacon’s bodies had come out of the womb 9 feet tall, 350 pounds of pure muscle, and completely literate. Two pairs were 69ing, and all the others had at least two hands around teach of their two foot long cocks. How perfectly normal they all looked. Perhaps the last normal photo of their whole family. Spencer felt a tear roll down his check, rolling in and out of the encrusted cum lining it.

“One day,” he said pointing at Neil in the photo. “One day you’ll have kids, and you’ll understand.”

beep beep beep beep

Spencer Howard slammed his hand down on his alarm clock. It let out one more pathetic beep before it wheezed itself off.

Spencer rolled over onto his side, stretching his limbs as he went. His old bones cracked, and he fell backwards for a moment. Turning 50 had left him feeling worse and worse, like every day he was just less and less. Spencer rolled out of bed and scratched at his t-shirt. His form felt thin and sickly. He thanked God every day that he was able to get up each day.

Spencer turned to make his bed. The far side of his king sized remained untouched, covers already pulled up. Sometimes…sometimes he just wanted to scream. It was Saturday morning and he was awake because damnit why the hell wouldn’t he be. After such a hellish week why shouldn’t he shake his fist in the air and just let it all out?

After a moment of quiet, Spencer rubbed his eyes and scolded himself. He was lucky to be alive with two young sons worth something. Even if work had been a drag and his third son a thorn in his side, that was no reason to commit blasphemy.

Spencer made his way to his closet, making sure to take extra special care to select a fine Saturday outfit. Even on a Saturday morning, it’s always good to dress elegantly, even around the house.

After only 5 minutes of preparation, Spencer walked towards his bedroom door. He took in a deep breath and sighed. With work behind him, he really had time to spend with his sons. Maybe he could reconcile a little with Deacon. The week had been rough, and it just wasn’t right.

Spencer grabbed the pair of noise canceling headphones that he kept draped at his door, and placed them snuggly around his ears. Spencer’s room was insulated from the outside ruckus, which was deafening to the average human, which Spencer unfortunately was.

Spencer shoved open his door, upon which he immediately hit Deacon. Two of his bodies littered the floor right outside the room, and were having an intense 69ing session. Each body’s four heads wrapped themselves around the other body’s four cocks. Despite being three feet long, each head easily took the cocks down. Eight arms wrapped around 8 legs and the thumping of 4 pecs on 4 pecs sounded like a drum even with headphones on.

Spencer pushed against his 10 foot tall son’s bodies such that he was able to squeeze out of his room. Deacon didn’t even seem to notice. Spencer looked both ways to see that Deacon had filled the entire hallway with himself. Spencer harrumphed a little, but it was only natural with 100 bodies. It was hard to fit that many 10 foot tall hunky men in a house.

Spencer stepped over the first two bodies and walked over the body of a Deacon who was jacking off with two hands per cock. His 12 pack glistened with precum, which permeated the air.

With a sudden gush, a pair of Deacons too far up the hallway to see ejaculated, and roaring waves of steamy liquid flushed down the hallway. Thankfully, none of the drains were clogged, and the semen dissipated quickly.

Spencer squeezed past a Deacon pounding another into a wall, before finally making it to Paul’s room. He struggled with the door (an oblivious Deacon was self-sucking himself in front of it) and entered. There he found the usual sight of 7 of Paul’s bodies being pounded by Deacon. Some of Deacon’s bodies were even double pounding themselves on top of it.

Paul’s identical bodies were each against some wall, desk, bed, or floor. With two torsos attached to one pair of legs. Some of the bodies had turned their torsos inwards and were making out with each other while getting assfucked.

Spencer strode up to the nearest Paul and patted them on the nearest shoulder. The nearest head turned and smiled up at Spencer, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Heeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” was all Paul could manage. Spencer’s headphones were well designed such that they could still easily pick up the human voice clearly.

Paul moaned and clenched his eyes shut and bit hard into his lips. Despite being against a desk, Paul’s muscles were large enough that he was actually elevated quite far off of it. With his immense size (at 8 and a half feet), Paul was actually at eye level with his father from this position.

“How’s the sermon coming?” Spencer asked, raising his voice over the noise so that he could everyone in the room could hear him.

“It’s…it’s…IT’S COMING,” two of Paul’s bodies managed before his monstrous cock burst open with a deluge of cum. All 7 bodies around the room moaned and released their loads at once, resonating around the room. Spencer knew that the feeling would have been strong enough for the Paul at church to have felt, and that he almost certainly would be cumming loads as well.

“Sounds like the sermon’s reached its climax,” Spencer said with a smile. He gave Deacon a hard time, but he made sure to help out Paul with his expert timing. The congregation always loved that part of the sermon. On Sundays, it could get a crowd on their feet in praise.

Before Paul could respond, Deacon grabbed at the body and flung it against a wall, pounding it all over again. In fact, none of the Deacons stopped. They usually did this around the clock. Oh what eternal pleasure it must be for Paul. Like Adam in the Garden of Eden.

In the spirit of kindness, Spencer decided to waive his anger at Deacon for intentionally pulling his brother away. He instead pushed himself forcibly though the door. The self sucking Deacon had been found by another. While still self sucking, he had been lifted into the air by another body. Two of their cocks we’re holding the other body aloft as they thrust up his ass. The other two were being jacked off by the standing Deacon’s remaining hands.

Spencer was forced to crawl under the men before he sidestepped beside several other pairs. After a few minutes spent climbing over an immovable pair, Spencer stumbled onto the stairs. Several Deacon had set themselves up on them, and were pounding each other into them senselessly.

Spencer thanked the lord that they had intentionally installed reinforced concrete underneath them, as he knew for certain his son would use them for this purpose. The contracter had been quite understanding actually.

After he reached the main floor, he shuffled past several other of Deacon’s bodies before making his way to the kitchen. To his mild dismay, it was also filled with Deacon. In fact, the nearby living room had a dog pile of at least 20 of them.

“Good morning dad!” came Neil’s voice. Spencer smiled and waved at a friendly face. Neil was sitting on one of Deacon’s bodies in the same position as the self-sucking Deacon pair from upstairs was. While the Deacon behind him railed him senselessly, causing him to bounce up and down in the air, he had grabbed his two monstrous cocks with four of his hands and was fervently jacking them off. With his remaining two hands, he was holding a bowl of oatmeal.

“How did you sleep?” Neil said pointing towards his ears. Spencer smiled. Neil had always been so considerate.

“My room is expertly soundproof,” Spencer said smiling. Neil smiled back and let out a slight moan in between scoops of oatmeal. Spencer took a moment to appreciate his eldest son. He was rock solid, and built like a man. In all of his naked glory, he radiated positivity in all things.

Deacon grunted and whispered something into Neil’s ears. Neil’s eyes turned white and fell back into his head. His four legs went limp and his cocks slithered outwards like snakes. With immeasurable pleasure, Neil’s penises lit up and shot out streams of steamy liquid. The wall and cabinets in front of him coated with sticky semen, caking on a new layer. Most of the liquid was immediately drained, sent directly into the sewer.

Neil went limp, nearly dropping his Oatmeal. Deacon grabbed him again, repeating the same song and dance as before. Before Neil could say another word, Deacon strode out of the room, thrusting all the way.

Spencer grumbled. Two for two. And Deacon was still ignoring him. He’d been ignoring him for several days now, and it was becoming increasingly unacceptable. But Spencer liked to be a “three strikes and you’re out” kind of guy. So he would give him another chance.

With Deacon vacating the kitchen with Neil, there only remained one pair of Deacon 69ing in the entryway. The kitchen was clear.

Spencer made his way towards the pantry, his feet slipping through wet puddles of cum. His hand gripped the cum soaked handle of the door, to which he paid no heed. He grabbed his delectable oatmeal and turned back towards the counter.

Spencer began to prepare himself a bowl of oatmeal. There was nothing better than a nice bowl of warm oatmeal on a Saturday morning. Except maybe a warm bowl of oatmeal on a Friday morning but-

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” came a voice from the kitchen. Spencer flinched a bit and turned towards the kitchen. Sitting at the table was Deacon. A solitary body, all by itself. He was sitting at one of the side chairs, so his frame was entirely visible. In one of his hands was a phone, and all four heads were looking right at him.

When immobile, Deacon’s naked body was a sight to behold. Any observer could see. His ten foot frame was still monstrous when he sat down, and he still towered over Spencer. He had the same proportions as a normally sized man, and thus had a wingspan of equivalent size. His eight arms all rested on the table, each a mountain of pure muscle. They were perfect looking, not so veiny and taught but smooth and powerful. Each bicep was larger than a human head. His forearms were like steel beams, and were actually sturdier.

His four pecs sat there like tires on a car. They were powerful and sturdy looking. Atop them sat four heads, each with beautiful features that rivaled those of models and superstars. His glistening 12 pack stood atop four beautifully crafted legs and an ass so bubbly and we’ll crafted it could have been designed by an artist.

But Spencer hated it. He hated it all. It was not some gift from god, but from the devil. A demon with gifts from hell, not heaven. And he looked like his ex-wife. If only his other sons were as beautiful. Spencer hated how they had to settle for second and third place.

Spencer didn’t say anything, lost for words at the moment. His anger was forming a knot in his chest, and his energy was focused on keeping it there. Deacon stared back at him. Two of his heads were turned towards Spencer while the other two were now looking down at the phone.

The stare down was making Spencer uncomfortable. It wasn’t fair that his son had more heads than him to stare back. His eyes wandered up and down Deacon’s body.

He noted that the body was complete still. In fact, the four cocks that hung off of his son’s waist like coats were flaccid. Spencer had never seen any of his sons’ cocks flaccid on any of their bodies in all of the time he’d had children. Sure, he knew that a cock could do that, but his sons usually always had theirs hard and with at least one hand around it.

“It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before,” Deacon said suddenly. Both of the heads pointing at Spencer were talking in unison, which wasn’t abnormal. Sometimes he even started and ended sentences with the different heads. He’d even been known to hold different conversations simultaneously with the same body, using different heads to do so.

“The brains scale up, so I can use them to focus on things and concentrate—”

“—on different parts—”

“—of my same—”

“self,” came the shout of several hundred voices across Deacon’s one hundred or so bodies. Spencer grumbled a bit. His son had done that song and dance a billion fucking times, he thought it was so fucking incredible for some reason.

“You don’t notice, do you?” came Deacon. This time, only one of his heads spoke from the table. The other heads all turned towards the phones. Each of his arms was paired up to one of Deacon’s many phones. Just like him, they all synced together instantaneously. “At first, I thought you had to have been! I actually deluded myself into thinking that you were so stubborn that you were lying as if everything was normal.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Spencer said taking in another spoonful.

“This,” boomed all the voices at once. Spencer could feel an undulation of flexed muscles, of throbbing clocks reverberate around him. Spencer’s headphones shook, and he grabbed his hands towards them.

“Damnit Deacon!” Spencer yelled. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to do that in the house! I’ll go deaf!”

“No dad, you haven’t,” Deacon continued. “That is without a doubt the first time you have ever said that to me.”

“That’s preposterous, Deacon,” Spencer said. His son was getting very close to strike three, and then he would need to pass judgement.

“How are you expecting to pass judgement exactly?” Deacon said suddenly, interrupting Spencer’s thoughts. The two stared at each other for a moment. “I have one hundred and fifty bodies, each ten feet tall and muscular as all hell—”

“Watch it boy,” Spencer said raising his voice. “Don’t you fucking say that word in my presence, you hear?”

“Yeah, but like, what’s stopping me?” Deacon replied. “What can you actually do to stop me?”

“One day there will be a great judgement young man,” Spencer said. His face was red, he could feel it. The blood in his veins was boiling over with pent up frustration. “No one is above god, not even you and your one hundred and fifty bodies. One day judgement will be cast upon you and I find it much more likely that you will enter hell rather than any kind of Heaven.”

Deacon turned all four of his heads to look at Spencer. Each had their head cocked and stared at him. His faces looked genuinely dumbfounded. Spencer straightened himself up a bit, glad that his speech had worked. But as the sex in the room seemed to rise and increase, their faces turned devious.

“Thank you…father,” his heads said in unison. Each was smiling the most devilish smile Spencer had ever seen.

“Deacon…” Spencer said lifting his voice up. Deacon’s body stood up in an instant, towering over his father. He slowly hardened his dicks until each rested only a few centimeters from Spencer’s face. The cocks started to throb as Spencer double fisted each of them. Within a second of him starting, each cock fired a massive deluge of hot steamy cum, spewing Spencer directly in the face.

The force of the cum onslaught pushed Spencer back into the refrigerator where he remained pinned. Having prepared for this, Spencer merely held his breath, and waited out Deacon’s load. Sure enough, once Deacon finished and the cum drained out into the pipe systems, Spencer breathed once more and cleared his face.

“Don’t you see, Spencer?” Deacon said. He was laughing heartily, and all of his bodies seemed to be chuckling a little too. “I can do whatever I want! I’m not above god, I am God.”

Deacon made a show of pushing a button on his phone and Deacon froze in place.

It all came rushing back. Everything all at once. Spencer barely had time to comprehend that he was covered head to toe in semen. He realized at this very moment that he was in hell. The devil had tricked him, entered the house in the form of his youngest son and tricked him.

He stared at the body the devil was using right in front of him with horror. His son, no, his ex-wife’s monstrosity had been so small not even six days ago. But using his twisted magic, the devil had turned him into a buff, multi-limbed…thing.

And his sons. His two wonderful sons he’s changed them two. They had multiple bodies and limbs and…members. And they were having intercourse with other men, each other, and themselves! He had to find them, to stop them. To remind them of the word of God and save their souls.

For the first time in days, Spencer looked around him and saw what had become of his home. How has he been so blind? Finally able to bring himself out of his stupor, he looked around frantically for his sons. The devil laughed at him harder than he’d ever seen before. He was leaning over on the countertop with tears in his eyes. Some of the other bodies too couldn’t seem to contain their excitement and were chuckling loudly. Spencer had to find his sons.

Spencer tried desperately to navigate his home, but the chuckling bodies of the devil were just so large. Unlike before, he was unwilling to touch any of them. Each had flakes of cum covering stray body parts, and the floor crunched and slurped depending on where he stood.

He had no idea where Neil was, and finally remembering the events of the week clearly he almost doubted that he could get through to him. Neil had been made to be complicit, and even powerful like when he had control over Paul.

Paul. Spencer slapped himself on the head. Paul was a man of god, and if shown the light he was sure that he could work through him. Most of Paul’s bodies were trapped in his room, but Spencer knew that their eighth body was at the church preaching. Spencer glanced a stray sight of a clock, which he could see was nearing 11 o’clock.

Paul would be home soon, and he’d need to get outside and stop him from entering the home. He’d excise the sin out of him first.

Spencer rounded the bend to the front door, but was blocked by a threesome of Deacons on the floor. Their bodies were so large, that the took up the entire hallway laterally and half of the height of the ceiling. Arm wrapped around arm, muscles flex and hips gyrated. Even through the deep hearty chuckles, all three bodies with a combined twelve heads were moaning deeply. The smell of sex filled the house, but it was particularly rampant here.

There was no recourse. There was one option. Spencer needed to wade through the men. It would be humiliating, and it would be a first where he realized what he was doing. But he would do it to save his son.

Spencer inches through mounds of legs like tiptoeing through snow. The men rolled around, and a well placed knee tripped Spencer and caused him to face plant into his son’s ass. The butt actually cushioned his fall quite nicely, but Spencer began to choke out of pure disgust.

The rumbling of the three enormous bodies juggled Spencer around, and eventually he found himself up by their arms. The men were swinging their combined 24 arms around wildly. Spencer was caught between some, which battered him about. A strong hand had the misfortune of grabbing up Spencer’s shirt, tearing it completely. His pants came quickly too as his entire outfit was shredded.

Spencer found himself unwittingly at the center of the three bodies. Hands groped his now unfortunately naked body. Twelve heads soothed and licked him over, kissing him and forcing him to French kiss back. Twelve dicks leaked pre cum all over him, as they rubbed incessantly against his body.

And his dick.

It only took one hand. One hand from the devil’s extensive collection was large enough for it. Spencer knew he was well endowed for the general population, but it didn’t matter. The hand felt like nothing a woman had ever given him. No biblical stanza could describe that moment. Through his tears of pain and agony and disgust, the hand on his dick felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. The devil’s hand was the only thing stationary in the sea of bodies, merely having wrapped itself around Spencer’s member.

And then it pulled it.

With only one motion, a singular swipe of the hand, Spencer released the most satisfying load of his life. He knew it was sinful, he knew it was blasphemous. But he hadn’t cum in over a decade. He hadn’t had sex since his wife left. He hadn’t felt that joy in all of his fifty years.

His dick exploded with the pent up potential energy of a lifetime. His body spasmed, hitting stone hard pecs and rubbing against walls of abs. Arms with biceps like boulders and triceps like steel cables rubbed against his insignificant body. Dicks, oh beautiful dicks slammed against his own body and spewed waves of creamy cum and semen, engulfing Spencer. This time, he did not hold his breath. This time he let it all in. His dick let out a comparable small trickle. It would have looked like only a splattering of paint in the sea of cum before it drained.

Spencer knew in his heart still that this was wrong. That he would go to Hell. Spencer could list every single sinful thing he was doing right now. But Hell was worth it. The feelings he just felt were unimaginable. He needed no more convincing.

Spencer heard the door open before slamming shut. His eyes, fluttering from fatigue and filled with cum could only make out the silhouette of Paul’s two twin torsos attached to his legs.

As Spencer began to fade, the three bodies around him stood up, unfazed, and began to grope and grab Paul, slamming him into door, smashing it into pieces.

Spencer smiled as he drifted off into sleep. One day…no. His sons had already learned.

hngh hngh hngh hngh

Spencer Howard eyes’s opened up slowly. He lay on his side, his hand resting against a pillow in front of him.

hngh, hngh, hngh, hngh

Spencer rolled over onto his side, but felt some resistance. His eyes blinked open again, and he saw a familiar face leaning over him.

“Morning pops!” cooed Neil. Spencer could see his son’s bare, muscular chest above him in the morning light. Neil gave a dashing grin before leaning back over. Spencer felt his son gyrating his hips straight into his ass.

“Just a normal wake up,” Neil soothed quietly. “Same that we give you every day.”

Spencer could physically say nothing. He felt pleasure coursing through his entire body. His body simply ebbed and flowed with Neil’s hydrating motions. Looking down, he could see his other son, Paul, delicately working away at his cock. He reached down and ruffled his son’s hair. Paul grinned as he went to town on his father’s cock, with motions and control that Spencer had never felt before.

As his sons continued their morning wake up, Spencer stretched out his other limbs. His old bones cracked, but felt mighty fine. Turning 50 had left him feeling terrible before, but now he just felt amazing. Muscles still seemed strong, and there wasn’t an ache in his body.

As time went on, Spencer felt himself reaching a breaking point and, as if they too sensed it, his sons began to tense up as well. A single unified release engulfed the three men, and Spencer felt his sons withdraw themselves shortly thereafter. Spencer heaved a bit, the experience had been brief but quite pleasurable. His sons, however, weren’t even sweating. The effect on them seemed nearly negligible.

Neil, ever the graceful son, picked up his father in his two enormous arms. Spencer felt the gigantic strong arms fold around him gently yet firmly. Paul turned to make the bed. The far side of his king sized was quite ruffled, covers strewn about. It looked as if some massive thing had been sleeping there. It was easy to intuit his two sons, who were each monstrously tall at 9 feet each, had been responsible.

Neil made his way to a large mirror, the only other object in the room. There was no furniture, no belongings, nothing else. Neil smiled as he delicately set Spencer down in front of the mirror.

Spencer took some time to admire himself. He was short, only about 6 feet tall. But his muscles looked quite defined. He smiled and flexed them, Neil rubbing his hands across them. The touch of his hands felt good as he traced every crevice, no matter how insignificant in comparison. Spencer smiled. Even on a Sunday it was always good to look damn fine.

Paul walked over and patted both men on the shoulder. He had to reach a ways down to get to Spencer, but the dutiful son did so anyways. His sons slowly turned and guided him towards the door without another word. The three men walked out of the room, making their way down the hallway and then down the stairs.

Spencer could feel his sons behind him all the way. Being so enormous, they radiated this physical heat that just made being in close contact with them so much more enjoyable. The three men were wordless, as what really could be said?

Coming to the kitchen, Spencer saw that there was quite a lot changed. The kitchen was all the same, same cabinets, same sink and so on. But everything was bare. Nothing littered the counters and everything just seemed pristine. The central table that sat there was also completely empty. There weren’t even chairs dotted around it. He frowned for a second, but before he could think too hard Neil grabbed him with his strong muscular arms, and complex thought left Spencer once again.

Neil lowered himself down, using his incredible core and glute strength to hold himself effortlessly in a sitting position. He lifted Spencer into the air and lowered him down until he was sitting on his lap, cock up his ass.

Neil then took one of his arms (he only needed one of his massive hands) and began to grasp Spencer’s cock. Spencer moaned, the mere contact between the two surfaces was enough to get him going. Pre-cum sputtered out of his cock. Neil began to gyrate his own cock up Spencer’s ass at the same time he methodically jacked off his father’s cock. His impossible body control allowed him to do so naturally with barely a hint of movement from the rest of his body. He did so relatively slowly, at least for what he should have been capable of. Anything faster and he might tear his father to shreds.

In the meantime, Paul had procured a bowl and had set it on the table. Spencer hadn’t seen where it had come from, but his eyes had been fluttering enough in his…er…seat. Towering over everything including the table, Paul effortlessly started double fisting his own massive member. Long motions moved up and down the enormous cock, and each drop of pre-cum was aimed at and caught in the bowl.

Spencer felt himself tensing up and, as if sensing him, the other two tensed up as well. In unison, the three men released their loads. Spencer’s sputtered onto the table. Neil’s shot up Spencer’s ass. Paul aimed his dick directly at the bowl and, using what seemed like extreme restraint, slowly poured globs of cum into the bowl. After it was completely full, he let out a huge sigh, pointing his cock away, releasing the remaining deluge of cum. Spencer was heaving once more, but Neil still seemed relatively relaxed. Even Paul didn’t seem so bothered by what he’d just done.

Paul handed his father the bowl and a spoon with a smile. Spencer hadn’t seen the spoon before, but he didn’t really care where it had come from. Neil rested his arms at his sides, keeping them firm with his natural strength. Spencer was able to rest his arms on them nicely. It felt good to have his skin against Neil’s hard muscle. The ridges and curves made him feel euphoric. Neil once again began to slowly throb his cock up Spencer’s ass, and Paul leaned over and began to suck at his father’s free cock.

Spencer truly knew that there was nothing better than a Sunday morning Cum Meal. No other meal on any day of the week could compare to it. Spencer savored every scoop. It tasted amazing.

After Spencer finished his bowl, he smiled at his boys. They both smiled back, and there was quiet in the house. Spencer could hear no noise. No rustling, and only barely the sound of breathing. Even Paul made little noise as he went to work at Spencer’s dick. Spencer took a moment to just intake all of the arousal and stimulation. Almost immediately, he involuntarily cummed. In unison, his sons joined him once again. After that, there was silence once more.

“I’ve got an idea,” Neil said after a while from behind Spencer. Even though his speech was quiet, it cut through the silence like a bullhorn. He patted his father’s shoulders with his enormous hands and slowly lifted him off his lap. Paul too took his father’s cock out of his mouth and stood up smiling.

Neil steered Spencer towards the opposite end of the kitchen. There, he gestured towards a door at the end of the room. Spencer hadn’t seen it there before, but the feeling of Neil’s hard enormous cock suddenly resting against his back made him forget about all that. “Let’s go through here.”

“That’s a great idea!” Paul agreed excitedly. The two men ushered their father forward towards the door, opening it wide and walking through it.

The room was completely black, and was actually a large corridor by the looks of it. The walls and ceiling were completely colorless. White lights illuminated the walls, guiding Spencer’s vision forward.

Spencer looked behind him. He was met by a black wall reaching to the ceiling. The door behind him had vanished. Neil and Paul had also vanished. He felt a strange dual sense of claustrophobia and agoraphobia. Alone now, he realized how puzzling the room he’d found himself in was, considering it seemed almost larger than his entire home.

Spencer, nowhere else to turn to, spun around on his heels. The floor was hard, yet felt soft and natural against his bare feet. He seemed to just walk and walk for a time, not really paying attention. At some point he looked up and at the end of the long corridor he saw a large bed. A gargantuan bed at that. It had to be at least twice the size of even a king’s bed. It had all the hanging drapery of royalty, of course up scaled appropriately. Spencer imagined he’d have to climb up onto it if he wanted to see over it, though he honestly didn’t think he could even reach anything to pull himself up by.

As Spencer approached the bed, his feet echoed off the boomy chamber. The chamber was large enough that even the slapping of his bare feet on the hard floor was enough. It was ominous.

“Stop,” came a loud voice. It came from nowhere in particular, but seemingly everywhere at once. Several things happened simultaneously. Firstly, Spencer stopped. The voice was commanding, insistent even. It held sway over him. He had to stop. He stood perfectly still, standing a few meters from the foot of the enormous bed.

The second thing that happened was that Spencer came. Of course he had been naked and had cum before this. Neil and Paul had seen to it that he had a pleasurable, if a little too short of a morning. But this wasn’t like that. This was on another level. His dick stiffened on the first utterance of an “s.” Like a diligent little soldier, it had remained at attention as it squirted out a massive load for the remainder of “top.”

And in the span of only a few seconds, eternity passed. After it was over, Spencer blinked. He was panting. Sweat beaded down his entire body. His dick was a little flummoxed, but it had lowered itself. Spencer looked around again. No one was behind him, and the bed was still there.

A moment later, there was a man on the bed. In a single blink and he appeared. Mind you, it was not any normal man. It was Deacon. And not any normal Deacon either. Deacon was 10 feet tall, this body was 20. The body had a standard number of limbs, two arms, two legs, one head, one dick. And even though it fit all of the other criteria of every other Deacon, this body literally radiated with light. Something supernatural seemed to gather around him, like he was…a presence of something greater than he’d ever experienced before. Spencer gasped a little, but he managed to only drip some precum out of his dick.

The room was silent. Spencer was still devoting much of his energy to keeping his dick at bay. Deacon bored his eyes into Spencer. Sitting in his naked, cross-legged form, he seemed almost bored. I’m his right hand was a phone. It was upscaled to the same size as he was.

“Aren’t there usually more of you?” Spencer asked. He looked around the massive chamber. Before there had been hundreds, now there was just one. “I thought there would be more of you in here.”

At this, Deacon smiled. He raised his hand and gestured at the floor. Spencer gasped as the floor beneath him became transparent. He saw massive empty cavity just beneath them. Spencer was met with the sight of thousands of compartments, all of them lined up in long rows that seemed to go on forever. Each compartment had clear walls and could be easily seen into. They were structured like houses, each adorned with different items and furniture.

The Deacon on the bed raised his hand, and a dozen rooms lifted from the fray into view. In each of the rooms were two or more Deacons performing sexual acts on each other. Some had many arms, some had many heads, and some still had their industry standard number of human extremities. Some were twisted, some strained, all were in the throes of pleasure.

And they all were still Deacon, and the mere sight of so many at once was overwhelming to the senses. Spencer shuddered throughout his entire body, and his dick hardened immediately as a small, insignificant glob of cum dripped onto the floor, all that was left inside of him at this point.

“It’s truly something else,” the primary Deacon boomed. Spencer’s legs quivered again under the forcefulness of Deacon’s voice. His dick quivered weakly too, forcefully hardening for a moment to go through the motions of ejaculation. At this point, there was nothing left to come out and his dick slowly sank down again. Deacon frowned. He typed something into his phone before continuing.

“I’ll make an exception just for you,” Deacon said winking. Spencer smiled. How kind. His dick twitched again, but only a little. It was tired by now. The floor darkened once more, and Deacon smiled.

“7,340,000 little rooms down there,” Deacon said. “Each performing a different sexual act. 24/7. 7 days a week.”

“Oh,” Spencer managed. His dick twitched from the thought.

“The…the sheer ecstasy and raw sexual power I feel in every single fraction of a second would be enough to kill several cities worth of people,” Deacon said, holding his gigantic fingers close to each other for effect. Spencer gaped in awe.

“How do you handle it?” Spencer asked. He felt up his body nervously. It was muscular, far more muscular than a 50 year old man’s body should be. But it was still so small, so imperfect.

“My bodies are all connected. The sensation is spread out amongst them all.” Deacon explained. “Shit gets wild when you venture into four dimensions.”

“Huh,” Spencer mustered. Deacon was surprisingly tame. His expressions were all laid back, his eyes never moving from Spencer. It made the room feel very tense, almost stale.

“Man of few words,” Deacon said cocking an eyebrow. “How unusual for you.”

“I could say the same to you,” Spencer said.

“Even still we are not in the same position right now,” Deacon replied as he gestured about.

“I have very little to say to a god,” Spencer said shrugging his shoulders. Deacon furrowed his brow.

“A god?” Deacon asked. He seemed surprised, the first genuine expression change.

“Unless you are just the god,” Spencer asked. He frowned and shrugged once more. “You’re the only god I’ve personally met.”

Deacon snorted. Barely a chuckle. He shook his head and cocked it at Spencer once more, as if this new angle would allow his eyes to bore into his very soul.

“All things considered,” Deacons said. “Being omnipotent isn’t that bad.”

“And the phone then?” Spencer asked. He pointed at the object in Deacon’s hand. “What kind of omnipotent being needs a phone?”

“Eh,” Deacon said with a shrug. “I don’t really need it. I’ve got over a billion bodies each with a supercomputer’s computing power. I just like the interface.”

“Oh,” Spencer said shocked. Who knew a god could be so vain. “And does anyone else notice?”

“Notice?” Deacon asked. He cocked his head a little more. Spence couldn’t believe that a man of such power could be so naive. Perhaps it was because he’d only been so for so short a time.

“Deacon, in 7 days you turned yourself into a billion-bodied omnipotent sex god,” Spencer said. “Neil went to a wrestling tournament with two extra legs. Paul was sent naked to a church! Did you even go to classes at all? What have you been doing over the past week?”

“Neil didn’t have two extra legs at that point,” Deacon rebutted. He smirked a little. “That was several days later.”

“It’s been hard to keep track of,” Spencer said crossing his arms. “I’ve been having to sort through double memories after all.”

“I’m glad at least you’ve noticed,” Deacon chuckled. It was a deep chuckle, and it boomed about the corridor. “It’s quite caring thing to keep up with your son’s interests.”

“Surely I can’t be the only one who noticed!” shouted Spencer. He put his hands up in the air, and a moment of awkward silence permeated the room.

“Talking back to a god are we now?” Deacon mused after a moment. He laughed a bit. “Or the god, as you had the pleasure of putting it.”

“It’s just a question,” Spencer said. He harrumphed a bit, and was even a little disappointed. “I am your father. I just thought I might ask.”

“I have been wondering about that,” Deacon said. His phone vanished out of his hand, startling Spencer. Deacon unfurled his enormous legs, each easily 9 feet tall, and stepped down off of his bed.

20 feet isn’t that large. Walls are 20 feet tall, sometimes even rooms in large buildings. But Deacon somehow seemed even taller. One doesn’t expect to see a real moving 20 foot tall man. His muscles and body were all proportioned out such that it seemed like someone had just upscaled an image in photoshop. Usually when people get taller, they aren’t perfect proportioned copies of shorter people. Not Deacon. Deacon was a perfect tower of a man, and he cast an enormous shadow upon the room. He even seemed to cast a shadow off that faint glow he had. Spencer’s eyes bulged and bugged out at the sheer immensity of it all.

Deacon walked with grace over to his father. His feet made no echoey noise. His gait didn’t even shake the room. The only noise was his own skin against his own skin. His muscles moved in unison, never for a moment letting up in their perfection. Deacon stopped right in front of Spencer and stared down at him.

Spencer was only barely above his son’s knee. Deacon’s enormous cock, longer than Spencer’s entire body, lay slightly below his sight. It was so large that he didn’t think he’d be able to grab his own arm if he were to wrap them around Deacon’s dick. It was like a hypnotist’s watch. If Deacon were to swing it side to side, Spencer would have spent the rest of his life watching it tick and tock.

Looking further upwards, Deacon’s massive pectorals cast a slight shadow down onto Spencer. Being as he was so close, Spencer couldn’t make out Deacon’s upper body as well. The only thing he could see was that it was large. Spencer couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re smiling,” Deacon said. “I’ve got a billion bodies and reality warping powers, I have made your life considerably more miserable than most for days now, and I have spent every spare minute over the past few hours trying to understand why it is you’re acting this way.”

“In what way?” Spencer asked. He smiled up at Deacon, who replied with a mocking tone.

“Like that,” Deacon said. He body remained motionless. Spencer could feel it next to him, the subtle body heat falling out to him. It was euphoric. He wanted to reach out and touch it. And then… and then to never let go.

“Aren’t you omnipotent?” Spencer asked. He desperately wanted to reach out to touch Deacon. Any body part would do really. Just for a bit of skin to skin contact.

“Yes, but not omniscient,” Deacon boomed. He raised his voice, which reverberated against the walls of the chambers. “It’s not any fun to just know everything.”

“What?” Spencer said. He leaned back and looked upwards, scrunching his face up. “I’m confused.”

“No, I’m confused,” Deacon said. He sat himself down delicately, sitting cross-legged. Again, his body made no loud noises except for his own skin against his own skin. With his enormous torso, Spencer still had to look up to actually see his son’s face.

From this vantage point, he could see his son’s torso much better. His abs were like a rock climbing wall, his arms like an enlarged marble statue. Each muscle crafted like Michelangelo’s David, but bigger and better. His pecs were larger than Spencer’s entire upper body. And that radiating supernatural glow that came off of his body just oozed into Spencer. Involuntarily, Spencer’s hands moved down and started to slowly caress his own dick. Or maybe they had done that some time ago, Spencer really couldn’t tell.

“This, this is what I’m confused about,” Deacon said. “You have been a god-fearing man for as long as I have been alive. You even just asked me if I was a god or the only god. With my app and my phone, I bypassed that gut-wrenching disgust of yours for the past six days until yesterday morning when I made you aware. For six days you thought everything I did to myself, to Neil and Paul, and to your house was entirely normal. Your biggest concern was your fucking Friday Oatmeal. After our little tussle, you fainted until this morning when you awoke. Since then, you have been nothing but happy and kind. You were completely unfazed yesterday, and even more unfazed at Neil and Paul this morning.”

“They’re actions of bliss,” Spencer replied. He smiled, and his hands began to work faster at his hardening cock.

“They served you Paul’s cum and you said it was your favorite!” Deacon said raising his hand.

“It was amaaaaaazing,” Spencer said. A bit of spittle and droop creeped down his chin, and he continued away at his cock. His eyes wanted to close, to revel in pure emotion. But the physical stimulation from simply looking at Deacon was even greater.

“But you’re aware of it all!” Deacon said. “No one else has been made aware. Every single other person on the planet including your sons think this is how the world has always been.”

“It makes no difference. To me at least,” Spencer said. His voice had toned down from what it was before. No longer accusatory, he was now calm.

“You haven’t been changed at all,” Deacon said as he furrowed his brow. Spencer looked at his son and smiled. It was a deep smile, one he’d never given to Deacon. He’d only ever reserved it for Neil and Paul. The two locked eyes with each other, staring deep into each other.

“The sensation I felt was enough,” Spencer said.

“Sensation…” Deacon said, his eyes widened the moment he uttered the words. With that small prodding, Deacon understood his father immediately. It was like you could feel the air around him processing the information. That glow Spencer felt glowed a little brighter.

Spencer took his hands off his quivering dick. He was shaking. He knew that Deacon had done something else on his phone to make him capable of being in his son’s presence more comfortably, but it wasn’t enough. Spencer’s legs shook, his arms shook, his lips quivered, tears fell down his cheeks. He was overcome with emotion.

Deacon, still wide eyed, raised his hand. His beautiful hand. It was large enough that it could easily hold Spencer up in the air. Attached to the most magnificent muscle groups that Spencer had ever witnessed. Each simple movement was like a treat to him. The fine motor muscles were like cogs in a great machine. Over-stimulus from simple movements began to overwhelm Spencer.

“You don’t want it,” Deacon said. “It would be too much.”

“I do,” Spencer insisted. He outstretched his arms and bent his knees to prevent himself from fainting. He was taking everything he had to keep himself upright.

“You don’t,” Deacon insisted. His voice was like a melody. It was overwhelming. It told him to sit down. To stop and relax. But Spencer couldn’t. He needed it.

“Do it,” Spencer said. He was openly weeping. He had never been in such a glorious situation. Not in any relationship he’d ever been in. Not in any self-righteous victory he’d won. Not in the thousands of times he’d been to church. No Christmas feast, no morning prayer, no pay raise and certainly no child’s birth had ever filled him up like he was feeling right now. His vision was blurring, but he blinked through it as he stared straight at Deacon.

Their eyes met once more, and even if Deacon’s were several times larger than Spencer’s neither dared to break with the other. Spencer stared deep into the soul of his son. His beautiful son. His amazing son.

Deacon’s hand gripped Spencer’s cock. It was well over twice as large as it, maybe even three times in size. Spencer gasped. The air in his lungs was sucked out of him. His ribs trembled under the force of the vacuum that was left behind. Spencer could feel the clattering of bones within himself.

An eternity passed. Neurons firing off the charts. All of them. Every. Single. One. Every. Single. Second. And after a second eternity passed, Spencer gasped again.

And then Deacon’s hand tugged just the tiniest bit.

Spencer could not feel himself. He could not feel his arms. He could not feel his legs. He could not feel his dick. He felt nothing. He felt no pain. All he had was the memory, of that all-encompassing climax. The very moment when Deacon’s hand had finished its tug and Spencer felt the release.

The moment played on repeat. It lasted a millisecond in real time, but Spencer could recount every nanosecond of the event. It was the most pleasurable experience of his entire life.

In his eyes, Spencer saw a bright flash of light, and then he saw nothing. It was over.

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