"Ah, thanks, Dusty. Again, I'm sorry about the bike," Brad said sheepishly.
He took the offered cup of tea Dusty gave him, the rugged ex seemingly eager for Brad to take some pain pills and drink everything in his cup.
"Don't worry about it, man. Like I said, the bike didn't even have a scratch on it."
Dusty gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder. And a reassuring smile. It was quiet in the house. They were the only ones up and awake. Brad's head still hurt from where it had slammed through the drywall.
'Maybe he's not so bad,' Brad thought. He had that thought a few times this week.
He sipped at his tea. It tasted a little funny, but he chalked it up to Dusty not making tea often.
"Thanks," he said politely, holding up the cup. "It's good."
"Yeah, well, it should help the pills go down at least. Just promise me you won't do anymore showboating, hehe."
Brad blinked. His vision felt a little fuzzy. He held a hand to his head. Sweat had beaded there.
"You okay, man?"
Brad looked up at the faint voice, and realized that his vision was going in and out. He tried to act normal and held the tea back up, trying for another sip.
"I'm fine, I-"
He blinked, loosing his train of thought. Dusty was leaning in, suddenly inches from his face, his gaze intense.
"Dusty, I dn' feel s' good..."
"It's okay, buddy. Just go to sleep."
A hand came up to pat his face, and Brad felt his body fall backwards.
Dusty sat back to admire his handiwork. He was in the garage, his motorbike in the center of the cold, barren room. The door was locked, despite everyone being at work and school. Dusty grinned, looking past his propped up leather booths.
"Hehe... He's lookin' like a real bitch now."
Dusty had hauled a drugged out Brad from kitchen to garage. He had taken his hunting knife and cut through all his clothes. A button-up, slacks, and a pair of ironed white socks were tossed to the side. Dusty tied Brad's necktie around his neck. Then he hauled his naked body over the motorcycle's seat and used his discarded belt to tie his wrists to the handle bars. Dusty found a thick roll of duct tape. With his legs positioned backwards and splayed. Tape soon covered Brad's limbs and held them tightly to the bike. Dusty slapped his face before pulled his head back. Tape was sticked to the top of his nose and pulled up like a pig's. Dusty added more, wrapping it carelessly around his head and squishing his lips and eyes.
When he finished, stepping back, Brad was laying stomach down on the bike with his ass bare in the air and his head wrenched back by too much tape. It looked hilarious and Dusty snapped several photos on his phone before the invader of his kingdom began to come to.
"Oooh... Mm'hdd," Brad mumbled, tongue flapping under the layers of tape.
His eyes fluttered open. They were dazed, then widened in partial clarity as they began to look wildly around.
"Hey, man, you awake already?" Dusty asked, mock sympathy in his voice. "I thought a pussy like you would be under for a bit longer."
"Pssy? Wha- wha!? Dddty!" Brad tried kicking out. He couldn't move a single muscle, and the bike was way too heavy to budge. Dusty circled around him like a predator. His tight pants were tenting. He was feeling like the real alpha of the house now.
"It's no hard feelings, Braddy-Boy," Dusty laughed.
He stopped to slap Brad's ass, hard. He laughed harder at Brad's muffled pleas to let him go. There were already tears streaming down his face.
"Ha! Are you seriously crying already?" Dusty asked. He crouched low before Brad's face and flicked a finger in the wet streaks. "Oh, that's priceless. You really are a pussy, huh? My private pussy to do with what I please."
Brad's breathing was heavy and scared. It got more hysterical as Dusty ran a hand down his spine and rested on a bare ass cheek.
"What's wrong, Brad? You wanted to ride my bike, didn't you?" Dusty asked mockingly. "Don't feel bad about wrecking my baby. Because I'm gonna take you on a ride right now."
Brad tried screaming through his gag as Dusty threw a leg out and slid up on Brad's back like it were the seat. His crotch was rock hard. Brad sobbed as his cock began to rub up against his back. Dusty moaned and humped harder, licking his lips. His hands came up to grab either of his shoulders. Brad groaned as his body was driven into the bike's hard edges. Dusty pulled back to rest his crotch on Brad's surprisingly round ass. He grinned, slapping and squeezing the cheeks.
"You got an ass like a woman, you know that?" Dusty asked. "Hehe, I can't wait to use it."
"MPHRphh!" Brad kept pleading. Dusty leaned back and tickled the soles of his feet. Brad's sob got louder. It was hilarious.
"Haha! Come on, Brad, what's the matter? You don't like showing me a good time."
He grabbed the tie and tightened it, relishing in the choked noises below him. He ground harder into Brad's ass. He opened up his cheeks, spitting a wad onto his fluttering asshole. A thumb jammed into the rigged muscle, digging and twisting with all the anger he'd been repressed in front of his family. Brad was going to be the perfect outlet for Dusty. He already had the perfect storage shed rented out.
Parenting wouldn't easy, after all.