Man's Worst Friend

Daddy isn’t gentle with his punishments, Sonny has come to learn over the weeks, or maybe months, he’s been held captive in his basement. He can’t tell how long it’s been- only that it’s been long enough that he knows what to expect when Daddy is angry with him. And Daddy is patently furious right now, as hard as he tries to wriggle himself free of his vitriol.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to-” Sonny hiccups out, trying to wipe tears away with his free hand. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He doesn’t even know what room Daddy is taking him to, dragging him by the wrist down a hallway, but soon enough, he finds out as he’s pulled into a bathroom, shoved roughly over the lip of the tub. He lands painfully, back hitting the wall hard and remaining sore as he pulls himself forward to rub it. Daddy picks up Sonny’s legs from where they dangle over the lip of the tub and pushes them inside, before turning the water on. 

The shower is almost frigid cold, makes Sonny flinch as the water hits his skin. He grits his teeth. Think thankful thoughts; it makes the pain more bearable to appreciate that he’s being bathed at all. 

“You’re disgusting,” Daddy spits as he steps away from the tub. “You think about the mess you’ve made. I’m gonna go clean it up, and when I get back, you’re gonna meet Dodge.”

Sonny’s a little scared to ask who Dodge is, but before he even gets the chance, the door shuts on him. He shivers under the freezing spray, wraps his arms around himself to try and stay warm. He’s not sure how long he’s left there, trembling, only that his fingers feel numb by the time Daddy returns. The older man is followed closely by a German Shepherd. 

Normally, Sonny likes dogs, but he gets the feeling he definitely won’t like this one.

Daddy comes closer and turns off the water. Before Sonny can say anything, he’s dragged, soaking and shivering, out of the water and thrown onto the bath mat. He’s forced face-to-face with the dog as he lifts himself on his elbows, his eyes widening as his gaze wanders lower to the canine’s protruding red erection. 

“Dodge,” comes Daddy’s voice, cold and dispassionate. “Mount.”

“W-Wha-” Sonny watches in horror as the dog circles around and rests its front paws on his shoulders, leans down to lick the droplets of water from his skin. The dog is heavy- Sonny finds his chest pressed to the bathmat. He hiccups out a sob. He thought he’d seen the worst from Daddy, but clearly, he was wrong. 

The worst part isn’t the way the intrusion burns, how his asshole stings as it clenches, refusing to accept the canine’s length, being forced open by the animal. No, the worst part is the disgust. How filthy and violated Sonny feels; worse than anything Daddy has ever done to him. He moans out in pain as the dog sheathes itself fully inside him. He can feel the fur of its balls pressing against his taint, and it won’t let him forget just what is penetrating him. That he’s a filthy, good for nothing dogfucker. That even if he’s rescued, he can never tell anyone what he was subjected to, how wrong it all was, for fear of judgement, for fear that someone might think he liked it. 

When Dodge begins thrusting, mindlessly rutting itself against Sonny’s entrance, he can’t hold back the tears. He feels degraded to something subhuman, something completely repulsive; something so utterly worthless as to be used by a dog for self-pleasure. It’s not enough that each movement physically pains him, no, it has to be mentally tormenting, too. Sonny reaches out to his Daddy in the desperate hope of comfort- he receives no such thing. 

Kneeling down, Daddy wraps a hand around Sonny’s flaccid cock. The touch alone makes Sonny want to recoil and shrivel up and fucking die, but it doesn’t go away. No, Daddy’s hand strokes him despite his cries of protest, brings his cock to hardness, and against his will, this starts to feel good.

It’s sick, he tells himself. It’s wrong. It’s disgusting. But slowly, his cries of pain turn into cries of pleasure, and even though he hates himself more in this moment than he ever has before, he even starts to rock his hips back and forth, chasing any sort of respite, a silver lining to his torture. The dog’s knot swells as it thrusts in and out of his hole, and with each entrance it feels bigger, fuller, more satisfying.

With a sob, Sonny cums, his ejaculate coating his Daddy’s hand. He slumps lifelessly against the mat and watches as the dog pulls out of his ass, its needs satisfied. 

“Dodge,” comes Daddy’s voice, followed by a brief whistle. The Shepherd, dutifully, leans forward, its big pink tongue lapping at Daddy’s hand, licking it clean.

“Daddy?” Sonny squeaks out, followed by a sniffle. His ass hurts. His head hurts. His heart hurts. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I go back in the basement?”