I called my son into the living room and we walks in buck naked, sporting a semi-hardon. I swear I was never able to keep that boy in clothes, especially since puberty. I asked him to sit so we could have a father-son talk.
"You're not my father?" he asked with a worried look on his face.
"No, no, I'm your father. This is about me and your late mother. You see, son, your mother was a dominatrix, I was her submissive, so we were never actually married. She was fond of gangbangs and I was one of the boys who was regularly tasked with pleasing her. I was her favorite submissive. After she had you, she was pleased to discover through DNA testing that I was the one who got her pregnant, so when she died, her will tasked me with raising you. But now that you are 18, my legal power as your father and guardian has ceased. Because children take the status of their mother, you are a Dominant, but my status as a submissive boy remains unchanged. As her legal and rightful heir, you own me along with the house."
His reaction was not what I expected. Rather than shock, sadness or surprise, he started cracking a smile and his big long dick went from being chub to standing at full attention. "Hot damn!" he said. "No wonder I was always so defiant towards you. It was just a natural reaction. As is this," he said, sliding his hand up his thigh and tucking it under his balls, making his cock stand prouder. "I've always wanted to fuck you. Now I know why. Get on your knees, bitch," he commanded.
I hesitated and then obeyed, but tried to continued the conversation. He cut me off and ordered me to shut up. He stood up from the chair and turned sideways to me. "Look at that cock. I'm gonna fuck you good with this. Time for me to pay you back for every spanking you ever gave me, every night you made me go to bed when I wanted to stay up, every time you took away the car keys because I talked back to you. I'm going to fuck you good for all that," he announced.
"But Blake, I'm your father!" I exclaimed.
He was showing a devious grin. "Submissive's don't call their Daddy's by their first name without permission," he replied. As he waved his cock back and forth over me, he started laughing, "Now face down, cunt up. Time for me to spend some 'quality time' with you."
I gulped and turned over onto my knees and rested my chest and face on the floor. He knelt down behind me and thrust his big dick into me, popping my cherry. As he started plowing away, I realized he was right. As much as I wanted him to be my son, I had no right to the title or the authority. He is and always was my Daddy and it was time for me to accept that thinking.
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