My Son-in-Law Needed Training - or did He?

A story by R.C.PeterGabriel.

All rights reserved.

"You can't possibly be serious!" exclaimed my apparently flabbergasted daughter Mila, from behind her closed bedroom door. I sighed to myself, having noticed an increasing number of arguments between her and her husband Rick.

I continued down the hall passing their room and headed for mine with the intention of ignoring the tiff as usual. Instead, I found myself pausing with my hand on my own door knob as she continued her rant. "Look, Ricky, I've put up with the fact that you can't keep a job that pays enough for us to move out of my parent's house. I've put up with your need to wear my panties and your humiliation fetishes. I even put up with your less-than-average-sized dick, but you're asking me to cheat on you, just so you can get off! Don't you think that's carrying your fetish a bit far?"

I continued into my room, not trying to soften the noise of my closing the door. (I might have closed it a tad sharply). I knew they were having problems and I knew 'Little Ricky' was a long way from being an alpha but I had no idea that Mila had compromised so completely when she married the man, uh ... boy. If they heard me and realized that I'd heard them, then maybe, just maybe, Mila would be willing to open a dialogue with her mother or myself. If she'd be willing to talk about their problems, we might be able to convince her to boot his panty-wearing ass to the curb.

Nichole, (that's Mila's Mom by the way) and I have had our share of disagreements concerning Rick (I refused to call him Ricky). I have always felt our daughter deserved way better, while Nichole has always felt that Rick was just "a sweet boy who needed some mothering". Nichole's mothering of 'Ricky' was something that seemed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement for everyone in the house but me. Enabling him, quite frankly annoyed the shit out of me. He was supposed to be a grown assed man after all! Not only doesn't he work a real job but he's never even offered to do his share around the house. I have to physically hand him the bin bag in order to get him to take out the trash. In my mind, he's a useless waste of air!

Anyway, one of our biggest fights came when I discovered several pairs of Mila's panties in the dryer that were obviously stretched out. That's when Nichole admitted that she knew Rick had been wearing Mila's panties. Fortunately, Nichole was the only one home at the time or I would have beaten the pansy to death with a bar of soap wrapped up in his borrowed underwear! She convinced me that going to jail wouldn't help Mila's marriage and I eventually agreed that a more subtle approach was needed to fix things.

Over the next several frustrating months, I discovered quite a few of the boy's shortcomings. His three-inch dick and desire to be spanked in order to cum were only a few. I laid out my arguments to all three separately in hopes that at least one of them would take the hint ... nope. I even threatened the pussy several times until I realized he seemed to get excited by it. What the fuck do you do with that?!? The only thing I could. I shut up and prayed Mila would see the light.

As I stripped down and pulled on a pair of shorts to mow the lawn, I figured that I at least had a tiny bit of hope that his suggestion of fucking other men might push her too far.

I had finished the front and was halfway through mowing the back when I noticed Mila watching me from the patio door. I smiled at her and continued working. Then for some strange reason, I began to get the feeling that she was admiring my sweaty physique. I had never had sexual thoughts of her prior to that moment and was chastising myself for them. Then I suddenly remembered the vision of Rick playfully pulling Mila's towel from her otherwise nude body as they ran across the hall from the bathroom to their bedroom. The flash was just that, a brief flash but as she twisted I was granted a view of her entire body, front, and back. I had dismissed it as a young couple playing at being in love, and I was quite sure that they didn't even realize that I was in my room observing them. At the time there wasn't a single sexual thought. Now I had to keep trying to force my thoughts away from the memory of her perfect body by telling myself that Mila wasn't admiring me and that I was her father after all. I had finally convinced myself of that fact as I finished mowing the last strip. However, the fact that she hadn't turned away until after I shut off the mower and was headed for the garage had me wondering why.

After showering and pulling on some lounge pants and a tee shirt, I padded towards the kitchen. I hoped Nichole would be home by then and be making dinner. We don't need her to earn an income but she volunteers at a local hospital four days a week. I work at home, where I ghostwrite for rich asswipes that think the world really gives a shit about their fake histories and overly inflated accomplishments. Although, I guess someone must because I get paid a shit-ton to do it.

By the way, eighty percent of the things written in memoirs are pure bull-shit; ninety-five percent if it's a politician providing the 'recollections'. Trust me I know.

Not that I'm anywhere as rich as those I write about but I certainly don't worry about my bills, and I never have to wear a tie ... or shoes for that matter. If it weren't for Rick, my life would be perfect. I get up when I want, I eat when I want, and I go to the gym because I want to and not because I've let myself go. I'm fit, healthy, and mostly happy. My wife and daughter are also both fit, healthy, and very sexy but unlike me, they seem to be in want of nothing. For my part, I just felt like something was missing.

As I turned the corner to the kitchen, I discovered that my wife was indeed home but wasn't engaged in preparing a meal. She and Mila were huddled together whispering. I was about to reverse course to allow them some privacy when they both motioned me over conspiratorially. Once I pointed out that they were apparently only excluding Rick from the conversation, I suggested we retire to my office. Once there I discovered that I had only been included because they had finally come to an understanding on how to proceed with fixing the 'little' problem.

I guess their efforts had been ongoing without my knowledge for quite a while. I later discovered that the dialog had started long before Rick and Mila had even married. Now it was finally time to employ the next stage of 'Ricky's training', or so they said. I'm not one hundred percent positive about the truth of their plan being Rick's training and not my own, but I spent the next twenty minutes having my two favorite women explain how imperative my part would be in the near future. It only took that long because, I, of course, had jumped up at the first utterance of 'extreme measures' being needed, so that I could run downstairs and kick the little douchebag out of my house. Once they had reduced my joviality to a level where I could pay attention to what they were attempting to convey as opposed to what I wanted to hear, they began my instruction.

The next two hours weren't needed to explain how I should act but to overcome my disbelief. My wife and daughter were expecting me to let my inner 'bull' out of the barn and that they would be agreeable to letting things go as far as it took. Mila then recapped Rick's fetishes and said that she didn't think he really wanted to go that far down the path but that by 'forcing him to live them' we could scare him into standing up for himself.

Personally, I thought the plan seemed to be more enabling than anything else and I was still in denial over the revelation that my loving wife of twenty-two years had a few issues to work out of her own. She and Mila had apparently been doing a considerable amount of shopping at specialty stores, in preparation for when Rick was ready to be taught properly. I was assured that any tools needed for the job would be near at hand and all I would need to do is ask. However, I still had more than a few misgivings about my wife and daughter's roles, as they would have to act in a manner that seemed alien to me. I just hoped Rick would run screaming for the hills sooner rather than later, or I was going to have to decide which of my heads would take charge. However, no matter how many conflicting thoughts I was having involving Mila; and my thoughts of Nichole being along the lines of 'what-the-fuck', I still couldn't conceive of not acting on the chance to mess Rick's world up completely!

Mila choosing Rick had always seemed strange to me but as I called in a pizza and some wings, her line from earlier came back to me, "You can't possibly be serious". I think it was my subconscious making one last plea for sanity, for morality, or at least for the status quo. I heard the plea and then laughed at myself. Why bother to pretend, I make my living writing lies that were presented as historical facts after all. I pushed my doubts aside and had a brief moment of resignation as I committed to the girls' plan. I was all in or it wouldn't work. I spent maybe ten minutes ensuring my women that I was committed. After they were convinced, I stood and headed downstairs to forever alter my household dynamics.

I decided that easing into my new status as Ricky's tormentor would be a waste of time, so I jumped right in. (Yes, I would have to start calling him by his 'little boy' name.) I found the skid mark sitting in the living room, breathing heavily, with his hands between his tightly clamped legs. Either he was trying to keep from pissing on my couch or he was masturbating like a girl. I had no reason to believe that even that example of a gene pool failure couldn't make it to the bathroom, so that meant that my Son-in-Law couldn't even whack off like a real man. I quite frankly was momentarily stunned by the sight. It must have taken me a full minute to sort out the scene unfolding before me, during which time Little Ricky managed to complete his mission.

I must have made a sound clamping my palms to my eyes wishing for some bleach because he practically came out of his skin and screamed like a six-year-old girl! He backpedaled down the length of the couch, his eyes shifting wildly all the while. From his pleading expression and his eyes settling behind me, I knew that all three of us were witnesses to the activity.

I couldn't have written a better reason to jump his shit. "What the fuck, Ricky?!?" I shouted and then paused. "Did ... did you just cum in your panties?" I added at a more sedate level while pouring on a healthy dose of condescension.

"Now Jason," my wife cautioned, "Don't be too rough on the boy."

I glanced her way, only to see her giving me her own version of pleading, easily read as "please play along". Ah, I thought 'Good cop, bad cop'. My eyes shifted to Mila and discovered a slight quirk in the corner of her mouth. If she hadn't been my daughter, all I would have seen was the look of a stern mother about to come down on her wayward progeny. However, she inhaled deeply lifting her chest and forcing me to glance down. Her nipples were more obvious than I had ever seen them. She was excited in anticipation of Ricky being called out!

Now I can't possibly know if you've ever had an epiphany or not but the level of clarity I experienced at that very moment was life-altering. I realized that I had been suppressing my natural instinct to be the alpha male in the name of a peaceful home. I suddenly realized that I had caught Nichole by being a bull and not the average Joe going through the motions.

Nichole wasn't quite a true submissive, but rather the compassionate, nurturing type that needed to take care of someone or something. She had been very disappointed to find out that Mila would be our first and only child because of complications during childbirth. Nichole's 'mothering' of Ricky was a deep-rooted need that only he was available to fulfill.

Mila on the other hand was now seen as the quintessential cuckoldress. Her posture, arousal, and even her scent shouted her never before expressed nature. (Or at least unobserved by me.) I knew at that moment that she would seek a bull to humiliate her husband. I also knew that I would never allow her to be used by someone that didn't love her. I wasn't going to fuck her outright, (she is my daughter after all) but I had known all along that she deserved better than Ricky and I was most certainly better than Ricky! I would go as far as I had to. All of the emotions, observations, memories, and realizations flashed into my brain in less time than it had taken for Mila to dart naked across our hall. Everything was decided with the acceptance that I could no longer make the breaking of Ricky my noble quest. My new goal was to use him.

"Mom?" pleaded Ricky.

I almost laughed. I would have if the timing were different. My voice rose in volume once again. "I asked you a question! Did ... you ... cum ... in ... your ... panties?"

His humiliation was obvious and he could no longer maintain eye contact with Nichole. After a mildly protracted time, he quickly nodded.

"I can't hear you, Ricky!" I berated.

The protraction was slightly longer before he glanced up at Nichole, then Mila, and finally a quick sweep across my face before looking down again and whispering, "Yes."

"How could that be?" I asked. "You were rubbing yourself like a girl. You're not a girl, are you Ricky?" I paused as he glanced up at me for the first time, quickly shaking his head no. It was the strongest defensive reaction I had ever seen from him.

"Oh, so you think you're a boy do you?" I asked and was rewarded with a downward cast nod. "Prove it!" I demanded.

"Jason!" exclaimed my wife as she moved around Mila and me to sit protectively near Ricky while plucking a hand from his lap.

"No, Nichole. I want proof that Ricky is a guy and not a girl. After all, he wears panties and we all saw how he was masturbating. It looked to me like he was rubbing his clit not his cock. Come on Ricky, stand up and strip down. Prove you have a dick."

Ricky slowly looked up at Mila with an unreadable expression. Unreadable to me anyway. "Do it, Ricky. Show my Dad what you try to get me off with," Mila responded with a challenging look that was easily expressed on her face.

With Mila's prompting, Ricky slowly extracted himself from his Mother-in-law's protection and began to haltingly undress. Shoes and socks went first, followed by his shirt. When his chest came into view I had to chuckle. The twenty-one-year-old man literally had the upper body of a small twelve-year-old boy. I had yet to see my daughter's husband without a shirt on but I wasn't surprised at his build. He was barely five feet six inches and never worked out. He hesitated to continue for only a moment until Mila prompted him again, after which he lowered his jeans to reveal a pair of Mila's pink bikini panties. They were stretched a bit due to Mila's even smaller stature and sported a small dime-sized stain at the top end of a small ridge outlined in the tight fabric.

Mila sighed and then scolded Ricky. "Those were silk, Ricky! You've ruined them! That's the third pair this month!"

"Get them off, now!" I growled.

The panties vanished from around his waist almost as if by magic. He stepped out and flipped them with a toe to land near the pile of his other clothes while easily covering his junk with one hand.

Mila walked around behind her husband and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. (She's only five feet tall.) "Ricky, Sweetheart, I thought you were going to show my parents what you use to 'fuck' their daughter with." Her prompting was accompanied by air quotes around the word fuck.

Nichole gasped at Mila's crud language while I made eye contact with her. She had the look of a panther locked onto her prey. I would have been frightened if I didn't know that I wasn't her lunch, but her hoped-for new mate.

Ricky was blushing harder than I thought possible for a human to accomplish while still remaining upright and was looking helplessly at his last remaining protector. Nichole, however, didn't provide what he wanted to hear. She only nodded at him and said, "Go ahead, you need to do as they tell you."

I'm sure everyone in the room was aware of the humiliation pouring from the man-child but his arousal was nearly as palpable. While still gazing at the floor Ricky dropped his hands and exposed his rigid member. Although he had cum not three minutes earlier, his penis was as hard as any penis could be, not that it required much blood to fill.

I had to call it a penis and not a cock or dick. It was literally the size of my pinky finger. I have to say, knowing someone has a three-inch penis and actually seeing it is quite different. I had to consciously close my mouth and lower my eyebrows before commenting. "Well Son, I guess you proved me wrong, you do have a penis. However, that is definitely not a man's cock! My cock hasn't been that size since I was six months old."

Mila snickered but stopped almost as soon as she started. Her eyes shot to my crotch, while she slowly cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Um ... can I tell you something personal Dad?" Mila asked somewhat timidly, before adding a scorn-filled addendum as she turned back to her husband. "Something that my Doctor has confirmed twice!"

Ricky blanched visibly and covered himself momentarily before blushing again and dropping his hands. Nichole must have known what was coming because she called him back to her by patting the couch where he had been sitting before. "It's not your fault Baby, come sit by Momma." I watched as he eagerly complied, probably to be able to cover himself again, but I was somewhat surprised when Nichole shifted over against him and pulled his head in to rest on her bosom. "There, there, that's a good boy."

Mila, walked over to stand near me, seemingly to distance herself from Ricky prior to continuing her mocking report. "Medically, I'm still a virgin. My devoted husband may have technically penetrated me with his ... penis. According to my gynecologist; he has more than enough length but, even though I have a normal aperture in my hymen, he simply lacks the girth necessary to rupture it. Apparently, he can fit through without tearing me.

In disbelief, I glanced at my wife to see if she could confirm Mila's account. She met my eyes while continuing to soothe Ricky's hair and gave me a slight nod, both indicating yes, and prompting me towards Mila. With that, I was suddenly back in my senior year of high school. I had pretty much spent the year making the rounds with any girl I chose, including a few coeds that lived on my block when I decided to crash the prom king's after-party. He had been sniffing around Nichole for months and I'm sure was hoping to get in her pants. Anyway, my buddies were always challenging me by picking out a possible conquest, hoping I'd fail (I rarely failed). They of course chose Nichole who lost her cherry to me that night in the prom king's bed. Unlike most of my conquests, I felt a connection with Nichole and after notching my bedpost a few more times, I asked her out on a real date. By the end of summer, my Dad had noticed that we were fucking at least once a day and pointed out that she had managed to close the door on the barn. In other words, I was hooked. He knew it, my mother knew it, Nichole knew it, and I just needed him to say it out loud for me to know it. I asked her to marry me by the next weekend.

After the few moments, it took me to flashback to high school, it was like a switch had been turned back on in my brain. I realized that what I enjoyed the most about being a bull, (besides the girls screaming my name of course) was cucking the girls' dates! My arm went around my daughter's shoulders before I even thought about it. I had just marked my territory without concern for the ramifications. Did Mila want me to push this to its expected conclusion? Would there be a conclusion, or would cucking Ricky become our way of life? How would this affect my marriage?