Broken Doll (verse + oropherion)

[oropherion]

It was a frosty December evening and the city streets were almost barren now in its late hours. Christmas lights and decor were brandished upon every building, glowing from each window, and the music that filtered into the streets was happy little carols to summon forth the holiday spirit. The feeling should have held true for Min-Su, but that evening had left him feeling absolutely crushed. The snow flakes and celebratory cheer still radiating from the club he had just performed at with his boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend, did nothing to cheer him up. Everything had been going splendid since the moment he woke up until now. There had been no sign, no indication, no warning to the ending of their three year relationship. Like everything in life, there were ups and downs, cat fights, threats of one or the other leaving, and everything in between. None of it had been bad enough to warrant this, in Min-Su’s opinion so when Daniel had approached him in the dressing room, already undressed out of his drag and wearing normal street clothes, to let him know that he couldn’t keep up the charade anymore, Min-Su had been left stunned and speechless.


It would embarrass him later to think about, but Min-Su had lost his cool after he had collected his thoughts. Emotional rage consumed his slight, 5’2’’ inch frame and he had flung himself at Daniel, pounding his fists upon his chest and demanding a proper reason. The holidays were just around the corner and they had planned to spend both Christmas and New Years together, but now all of that was being flung out the window for what? Because Daniel suddenly felt like their relationship had grown stagnant and stale, not seeing a future between them anymore, which clearly meant he had found something far more appealing elsewhere. With tears flowing down his cheeks and smearing his carefully crafted makeup, he had flung makeup brushes and whatever solid object he could find at Daniel. It had turned into a louder shouting match until some of the other sisters came in and separated them.

Min-Su was left shaking and now sat alone in his used Toyota still trying to wipe the tears away. He hadn’t been given time to clean away his makeup properly, his snowy-white wig already carefully tucked away in its bag, along with most of his costume. All he was left with was the white lingerie he had been wearing and a robe because all he wanted to do after letting the rage consume him was leave. Yet he hadn’t managed to get himself to put the key in the ignition yet and drive away. He sniffled and rubbed at his quickly reddening and snotty nose, hating the flushed and unkempt appearance he saw in his rearview mirror. His jet black hair was disheveled in its loosened state and his unnaturally blue eyes were red-rimmed from all of the crying. Mascara was smeared and runny around his eyes and the pale foundation he had used was now splotchy.


“Fucking asshole,” he muttered in his Native tongue, shoulders quivering as he finally managed to gain control of himself and turn his vehicle on. His frozen limbs began to defrost as the heat from his radiator began to warm him up. It did nothing to help the numb ache within his chest as he stared at the few people flooding from the clubs. Couples arm in arm, leaning each other flushed from drink, laughing and giggling. His lips curled in disgust as he gripped the steering wheel, wondering what he could have possibly done to lose who he thought was the love of his life. Any future plans of a wedding were right out the window along with everything else and that just left him feeling hollow. Was he doomed to repeat the same loveless life his parents had led and were leading now, even after their bitter divorce?


First his mother couldn’t stand him. For years, Min-Su couldn’t understand why his mother had kept him at arms length as he grew into his teenage years. Why she looked at him with such mockery, derision, and budding hatred? It had taken the ugliness of the divorce and several court hearings and meetings to find the truth. His mother had begun to hate him because she had seen him as almost competition with his budding beauty, even if in a sick twisted way of feeling he was taking his father’s attention away from her. On top of that, she couldn’t hide the fact she hated that he was gay and even more so inclined to dress in women’s fashion. It had been the tipping point when she had found out he was getting into the drag scene and had decided that was too much for her.


It wasn’t his fault that he was born naturally petite, small framed, with androgynous features bordering on more feminine than masculine, and that his skin was naturally pale and buttery smooth. It wasn’t his fault that she determined her own self worth by comparing herself to her own child and that she hadn’t put in the same amount of work of keeping up appearances to please her husband. It wouldn’t even surprise Min-Su if his father had grown tired and bored of his mother’s antics and sought love elsewhere. He almost wished he did just out of pure spite. It twisted his chest to think that though and to know that he would never have that motherly love in his life. Not that his father was much better in regards to his opinion on his interest in drag, but at least he didn’t kick him out of the house nor completely disregard him as a person. In his own way, he showed his love even if it was more in the way of buying him gifts or whatever he wanted when asked or providing him with a safe place to go to when the need arose. He was much warmer than his ex-wife.


Thinking about his father made him realize that he could use some sort of emotional support right now from the only one in his life that possibly gave a damn. There was no going back to his shared apartment right now, not wanting to see Daniel at all right now. He would have to figure out his living arrangements later on and collect his belongings, but for now he needed to get home. See his father. He swallowed the lump in his throat and finally pulled away from the club, continuously sniffling and choking on sobs as he weaved through the streets to the small home his father possessed. Thankfully the courts hadn’t taken it or any collateral during the divorce. It was nothing grand and considering it sat in the low income side of the city, it was starting to look its age. It was home and that was what mattered to Min-Su as he parked in front of the garage and tugged his robe tighter around his slender body as he shuffled through the gate.


It was easy to find the spare key in the plotted pant at the back door and slip inside. It was a touch warmer inside than it was outside meaning his father was either keeping the heat purposefully low or there was an issue again with the heater. He rubbed his palms together and blew on them as he stepped into the meager kitchen. There was a mild mess, dishes piled in the sink, leftovers sat on the counter and garbage piled up. It almost looked like a depressed person’s home and definitely did not have the feminine touch any longer. It made Min-Su more upset to see the state and unable to stop himself from wondering about his father’s mental state after the divorce and him finally becoming old enough, at twenty-two, to live out on his own.


Min-Su felt like a rather poor excuse for a son for not coming to check on his father more, or helping out more around the house like he should have. Especially considering his father’s sacrifices to keep this place and him alive. Perfect father or not, he had been there and that feeling summoned a different ache in his chest. It drew him through the kitchen and through the living area that he had once sat in watching cartoons with his old man, eating cereal. Where he used to do his homework and play piano with his mother, and where he used to play with his father, when the man wasn’t busy with whatever work he did. Min-Su had never really known the details of his father’s job, but that hadn’t meant as much to him as his presence anyways. A presence he was suddenly craving right now.


The first floor was dark and quiet which meant his father was probably asleep which made him wonder if he should just crash on the couch and wait until the morning. That thought quickly dissipated as he dwelt on the raw emotions still tearing up his chest, and how his body shivered seeking warmth. Warmth of another person, someone to comfort and hold him, to love him. He didn’t know what force drew him up the stairs and outside his father’s room. He stood there for a moment listening, but only hearing the soft chortles of slumber, but nothing more. A faint, wry smile crossed his pale face as he pushed the old wooden door open, wincing at how it creaked in protest, fearing it’d wake up his father. It didn’t seem to cause even a stir and so he softly and quietly made his way inside against his better judgement and stood at his father’s bedside, peering down at him.


His father may have been his senior, but his genetics and build had not diminished with age. Instead it had only seemed to improve. There were some obvious age lines in his face, but not as prominent as some older men he had seen. His skin was still smooth, inked, and tight against firm muscles. His father was every bit a man one would admire and look up to be with his tall, imposing frame. One that always made him still feel like a kid in comparison even as an adult standing next to him. Truly reminded him, and his mother, of just how little testosterone he possessed in comparison to his macho father. There was a different kind of lump that rose in his throat as he admired the slumbering form, and a different warmth in his blue orbs as he carefully sat down on the edge of the mattress.

Slim, long fingers with frosted fingertips reached out to paw over a bare chest. Tracing some of the dark ink splattered across firm pectorals. They idly followed the lines of his upper body as he frowned to himself. Daniel had been much like himself, super feminine, slender, no muscles in sight. Nothing like this and Min-Su almost wondered now how he could have even thought two drag queens would have been perfect for each other anyways? He laughed bitterly to himself as he shifted onto his knees, robe starting to loosen and slide off his small shoulders as he found his hands palming and wandering a warm torso and shoulders that he was meant to cry on, not molest.

There was no explaining the feelings coming over him. Min-Su didn’t even want to think too deeply on them as he found the valleys his fingers were caressing to be appeasing. His cold body was warming up in an entirely different way, an ache building between his milky thighs, as he felt blood pooling into his groin. There were still signs of tears on his long dark lashes, giving him a dewy-eyed look as he pushed the blanket off the remaining half of his sleeping father’s body, learning immediately that his father slept in the nude. “Naughty,” he whispered to himself, almost chuckling at how obscene this all was, and how almost vulnerable and delightful his father looked at this moment.

This was wrong in every way, all the rules were being broken, but Min-Su was desperate for something. For love, for a touch to soothe the ache away, to calm the frenetic energy bubbling under his flesh. The ache had grown much stronger now, his erection pressing against the flimsy fabric of his white panties, leaving a gray stain in the front as he bit his lip. It was hard not to be taken in by the very sight of his father, especially the masterpiece sprung up between those thick thighs. It was like no other cock he had seen before. Even in its half-hard state, Min-Su could tell that it was a grower and that excited him like nothing else. Fuck Daniel, he did not come close to this. His ass was used to much smaller meat and now it twitched and almost seemed to beg to try a real man for once. Even if said man was his father.

“Forgive me, appa.” Min-Su murmured as he moved to straddle his father’s waist, cheeks heated up, as he reached behind him to grasp the cock behind him. He gave it a few firm strokes, guiding it to full firmness, realizing as he pressed it between his clothed cheeks just how high it went up on his body. How deep it must go and how it would definitely rearrange in his guts. He almost mewled at the thought, getting wetter with each second as he played with his father’s cock like a finely tuned instrument, desperation quickening his movements as he spread the pre-cum he found there. His own cock was a pulsing, hot mess now, driving him to push his panties aside and spread his father’s fluids against his puckered hole, quickly working himself open with barely two fingers.

It wasn’t enough to prepare him for the beast, but Min-Su didn’t care. He was desperate, emotional, horny, and feeling raw and vulnerable in a different way that only this cock could fill. He lined himself up and bit down on his bottom lip as he sank down upon it. The crown pushed through the tight vice of his rim, and the first inch was already a lot with how the girth of the veiny rod spread. His thighs shook from the effort already to push himself down further on the intimidating sex. Grunts and whines of pain escaped through his gritted teeth, but he persevered. When the cock was halfway in, he grit his teeth and clenched, frustration building at realizing not even the whole cock was in him and he was feeling both full but still not fulfilled. Tensing his shoulders and mentally preparing himself, he shoved himself the rest of the way down on his father’s cock, ripping a cry from his mouth that he quickly tried to cover up with both of his palms as he sat with his dad’s cock nearly busting through his stomach with how deep it was. Fresh tears flooded his cheeks, but the pain and pleasure was a new kind of exquisite. It took some time for him to try and move, to test the waters, and already felt his first spurt of an orgasm rip through his much smaller shaft. Despite it, he still was hard and wanting more.

 

[Verse]

Hoyoung Pat had been raised rough. It's what he was taught life should be. He got ten years with his own father, and then the organization that owned the old man had taken over. Hoyoung didn't mind it. The way his father had prattled on about the life of an enforcer, it seemed the only good choice for him. And since he didn't have other prospects, he could give all of himself to the work. He thought that's all there was going to be. He at least wanted a family that would mourn him when the same thing happened to him. He'd like to leave behind some love. Wasn't all that rough stuff so that someone at home would admire him?

But when he met Mina, from Russia, he changed his mind. She'd been working the front for a lab in the city center. Pretty girl with blue eyes. Soft skin. Took a lot of pride in it. Easy to flatter and she liked that he was tall. Soon they were something, because he could afford to buy her things. He wanted more for her. He just loved those eyes. And he loved her even more when he stomach got round. He promised her so many things. On a whim even that he'd leave the syndicate. And he did. He'd never gone too far up, even if he stayed loyal. The let him go and he worked where he could find something, always with his body as capital.

By the time Min-Su was born, things were good. He fell in love all over again, with the small thing that liked to curl up in his mother's arms. He and Mina raised their precious boy and she liked to call him the most beautiful child in all of Yareli. Hoyoung was happy. He worked hard to buy the house, and Mina got to fill it with whatever she wanted. But things changed. Mina was vain, and she lost her beauty gradually. She accused Min-Su of it, and even if Hoyoung would never admit it, it did look as though the boy was simply taking all his mother's prettiness for himself. Yunga assured Mina she was the loveliest woman in the world. And to Yunga, she was. In the beginning it was enough, and then it wasn't.

Yunga wasn't really the doting kind, even if his family brought it out of him. The fights were awful. He felt his old life rear its head through the anger that she brought out in him. It interfered with his honest work in construction, and by the time the divorce was finalized, he was more of a liaison between them and his old associates, that knew his father. Shamefully, Yunga liked the excuse to let out his frustrations on people that owed. Didn't really give him the temperament that would hold up in negotiations with his ex-wife's lawyer. Mina was gone soon, home to Russia. It hurt mostly because she didn't want to see Min-Su.

And that relationship didn't go too well for Yunga either. His son was pretty, sure, but it was looking more and more like he'd gotten a daughter. It was easy to criticize, and the few times they interacted, it seemed to be about that. He loved his son for retaining the softness his mother had lost, and wishing for it to always be there, made Yunga fee tguilty, thinking he was the one who made his son into what he became. Beautiful still, in all those frilly clothes. And the way he spoke. It haunted his father a bit. He knew the kind of boy that Min-Su was turning into, had seen them service men in the red lantern districts. He was glad they never really had a final fight about it, by the time Min-Su moved out. It was a strained relationship, but at least it wasn't severed. He had tried to make the precious boy into something that could take on the Yareli night. Min-Su had become the opposite, making himself into the very thing that those who could fend for themselves would play with, to let off steam.

Maybe today, he'd been thinking about it when he visited those districts. He made a habit to sample the smaller morsels with dick now, from having exclusively been a patron of the women these places offered. The boys on the menu were lovely, of course, and as Yunga went through them, it reminded him of the kind of life his son might fall into. It happened often. He'd seen it. On occasion he was the one who pushed these young men into it, because of debt. Maybe Min-Su was his punishment for all of that, even if the boy promised it was only performance on a scene. The few times he'd snuck in to see, it was true, but pretty things didn't do well for too long, in Yareli.

Wracked with those thoughts, Yunga slept. He felt something through his slumber, but it was pleasant and- melancholy? Familiar. Family.

And when he woke up, dazed, he saw something pale as he felt pressure around his solid cock. He had grabbed his boy's hips before he realized it. And when he saw and heard the pretty, almost pained noise of his son cumming into the panties that barely locked over the small head of the small cock, he shook his head with fatherly disapproval. His hands were strong, killing hands, when they held on to his little baby's bony hips. "What are you doing?" he said with stern, morning hoarse voice. It was obvious the greedy brat was nowhere near sated, and the way his makeup was running down, his father knew he'd been sad. "You don't contact me and the only time you visit is because you want your sissy needs fulfilled? I told you you were turning out all wrong." he muttered.

"Huh?" he persisted as he started bouncing his precious child on his cock, sitting up against the headboard and looking at the lithe body in his lap. It was absolutely no trouble exploring the small asshole deeply. To his horror, Min-Su felt better than any of the sphincters he'd stretched, female or male. His thumbs dug into his son's stomach as his fingers locked toward the back of his waist. "Let me spank you. It's what you came here for, right?" he said and groaned. He was soon moving his already orgasmed son up and down his shaft, the small buttocks clapping against his father's thighs. Seems he had only gotten a daughter with a dick. He huffed. Admittedly, this was high quality ass. "Such a little disobedient girl." he breathed.

 

[oropherion]

Min-Su may have grown up unaware of the type of dark underground work his father used to do back before him and his mother became a concrete item, but there was always that underlying awareness that the man had a past. And even though Junga may have put himself on the straight and narrow once he married Min-Su's mother and got her pregnant, tried to become the family man one would expect of him, perhaps some of that dark seed within him had spread to his only child. For there could only be one reason why the upset Pat offspring would climb into bed with his sleeping father and shove his cock so deep in his ass that he almost tasted it on the back of his throat. His mind buried the thought that he was practically raping his father in his sleep, breaking the familial boundary that should never be crossed consenting or not, but here he was. In his most desperate and deplorable way, he was taking advantage of the only man who had at least attempted to show him proper love and direction. He may not have liked many of their exchanges, the distaste of his hobbies, and may not be the man his father would or should be proud of, but through all of his life one thing had always remained the same and solid and that was his father.

Solid was a good term when it came to his father in the literal sense. The solidity of his cock piercing through his guts right now was everything he needed right now, making it feel almost impossible to move with how well stuffed he was. His mouth was agape as if he had lost control of his facial muscles, despite doing his best to stifle the raw sounds rising up inside of him. The unfiltered scream had felt like it had been scraping along his esophagus as it was pulled free from his lips at the final stretch. His toes had curled as the rigid prick scraped across his prostate, making him seize up and cum without much other stimulation. A sign of just how pent up he had become, even in just a few hours. He was panting as he tried to center himself only to suddenly have all his muscles go tense when he felt large, firm hands grab his bony hips. His eyes flew open wider in shock upon looking down at his now awakened father, the hoarse yet stern voice making his heart lunge up into his throat. A bit of fear pierced in his chest, fearful that he'd be tossed off and beaten, perhaps killed, for such a twisted act. The violence didn't come, but the scolding and reminder of his absence was much worse than physical pain.

A choked sob broke through him as he shook his head immediately, raven locks whipping around his messy face as he leaned down, clutching upon broad shoulders as he sobbed. "Y-you're right, appa, I'm so sorry! I didn't know...I didn't mean to..." To leave. To turn into a failure. To find love in someone else and think that he would be his future and that his drag shows meant more than the only person that truly mattered in his life. Being here, sitting on that fat cock, looking at the worn features of his father let those thoughts sink in, made the guilt chew at his soul. Fat tears kept welling and rolling down his flushed face, features slightly puffy from being so torn up from his breakup and now this, his sordid act twisting what little good was left in his life. Even so, he didn't stop rolling his hips and even felt encouraged when his father actually lifted him so easily and began helping him bounce on his big cock. The very thing that had helped bring him to existence, now his body could worship and so he squeezed his sphincter muscles to keep him in, grinding his ass down on his dick as he whimpered and moaned. The initial searing hot pain that had come from taking too much too soon was already beginning to face. The sound of his cheeks slapping against his father's thighs along with the slick sounds of their combined bodies was putting him back to full arousal as his fingers dug into firm flesh.

When familiar fingers wrapped tight around his cinched waist, thumbs pressing into the bulge the cock made in his belly, Min-Su felt his eyes roll and his jaw drop in euphoria. It was such a new experience and he was already addicted to it. His father's words made him blush all over and he bobbed his head eagerly as he begged for it. "Yes, appa, spank me. Punish me. I deserve it. I deserve to be punished for leaving you all alone...all for some asshole who didn't really care about me! I should have listened to you about him." He huffed, lower lip wobbling with the emotions welling up inside of him as he bounced himself harder on what felt like a never ending dick. He tried leaning forward to wrap his arms around his father's neck, letting their breathes mingle as he pleaded softly. "Kiss me, appa, hold me. Do whatever. Just please don't stop."

 

[Verse]

His son's face was beautiful, abandoned to the elicit pleasure that wracked Min-Su's body. It was a delicate, intense blossoming of emotion and then the deflation of it, when exhaustion moved at the tail end of the rapture. Everything was explained within that one moment; what had happened, and what it was for. To think that his son had not only decided to do this, and done it, but also that he'd been able to get off so quickly. It really told the story of how perverted his son was. Something inside the gruff man was curious to see just how deep this depravity went. But his reflex was to punish. And Min-Su's response was to be afraid, at least to start, when their old roles returned, that of a teacher and a somewhat awestruck and respectful student. If anyone was subject to their desires, it was Min-Su, who couldn't even let his impulse to dress up like a woman, and worship cocks, be. Junga had a natural distaste for those without self control, and what could this be, if not that? The deviant had actually sought comfort for his forbidden impulses on his own father's cock.

The black tears were pretty on the orgasm face of his little, useless boy. He had always been beautiful, echoes of his mother present, mingled up with Junga's own features. A eschewed mirror of the stern and violent man. Something in Min-Su's presence had prevented the man's senses from waking him up - he had never considered Min-Su a threat, after all, and it wasn't that long ago that his boy lived here. The petite male cried and confessed, and begged for forgiveness as he leaned forward, changing the angle at which his father's cock was lodged in him. Min-Su had always been so adamant on 'following his dream' that there'd been no real place for objections from his parents. He had called the Pat patriarch conservative about it, but now the sobbing princess was ready to admit fault, and speak of his failures. Junga had always towed a line with his beloved child, between a heavy hand and firm words, and usually decided for verbal reprimand. Min-Su was proving he responded better to physical means - he'd craved them so much he'd sought them out himself. His blubbering admissions now, after having cum on his father's cock, showed as much.

As Junga moved his son ontop of him, as though teaching him, Min-Su was finally ready to learn. Or perhaps he was a talent. Because his natural, willing response was beautiful. The narrow hips made sure the cock had a perfect way into that tunnel, and little squeezing kisses from the ring all but cut Junga's fat cock off at the bas every time the boy's rump bumped against his thighs. He let his son wrap his arms around him and he petted his hair to soothe his son, though both of them were still perpetuating the act of adding friction to Min-Su's sensitive asshole, and the raging cock. But then, just as he would when his weak son would look for affection when he truly needed to be reprimanded, he let go of his son so he could pull his arms off from his shoulder. He knew it'd break Min-Su's heart like it always did. But he was not going to reward his son, especially now that he was finally admitting do doing something wrong through his weak stubbornness. It only took a pinch from two fingers from each hand to free himself from the tender but useless grip. He was sure the little boy would wail as he used to before he'd become an adult.

"Listen, Min-Su." he said sternly. He forced his son to look down between them, so he could see the outlines of the very grown-up cock in his stomach. "Look at what you're doing? How can appa love a son like that?" he asked, as though there was a real lesson to be learned here. Never mind that the cock was twitching in delight and flooding his son's dirtiest place with precum. "You should have listened to me. Now you've become bad." he continued and crossed Min-Su's wrists behind his back, forcing the little torso to push out its flat chest at him. "Look me in the eye, Min-Su." he ordered. He even snapped the fingers of his free hand while the other kept Min-Su's wrists crossed and out of the way. It was very easy to physically control the petite male in his lap. "You're dirty. You're wrong." he said. "Stop moving!" he warned, but knew damn well how his son got. He was a glutton and perverted. He couldn't leave a simpering male be, let a lone a real cock. On his birthdays they had to physically remove the cake so Min-Su wouldn't just spend his entire time eating. The boy had no self-control.

"Hey. Listen to me." his father continued, though he didn't really want Min-Su to stop. But he liked to charge this act with guilt. "I am telling you, son, you're going to get in trouble." But he was also moving upward to respond to Min-Su's motion, aiming for the prostate at every motion that either him or Min-Su made, entirely turning the odds against the boy and his greedy, crushing little asshole. Even disciplined men would be begging to be fucked with that amount of stimulation and closeness to orgasm. "Who raised you like this?" he muttered. His free hand, from old habit, doing the kind of work that he did, wrapped around Min-Su's narrow excuse for a neck, and started squeezing. His son was a deviant, an imperfect being, but at least Junga knew how to deal with them, and what they liked. It was time for a new dynamic, and perhaps it wasn't the worst way to stay in charge of his son, if he made sure he was addicted to something only his dad could provide. "If you cum, I will be disappointed, Min-Su." he said sternly, but never stopped helping in fucking the poor miniature pucker. Min-Su would be too occupied with the sensation of having his torso stuffed with his father, and the teasing of his prostate to realize, anyway. "Don't you dare." he said darkly into his son's ear, having tilted the smaller head so his hot breath could fit into the earshell, inside that now messy mop of hair.

If Minnie wanted to cum, then his father would turn him into the worst kind of slut.