Natural Selection 1/?
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: AU
Pairings: Burt/Kurt, Kurt/dogs, Kurt/OCs, Burt/OC
Warnings: Dub-con, Incest, Bestiality, Boypussy!Kurt, Daddy Kink, Innocence Kink
Summary: Since his wife passed, Burt has sheltered his son from the world with only their dogs for company on their small cattle farm. A GKM fill for this prompt. The dogs look like this.
***
Burt always knew his boy was special, beside his obvious physical condition, and he never wanted to see the light fade from his eyes like it had when the boy had lost his mother at eight. Months later, after selling his tire shop, father and son moved out of Lima and into the backwoods of the Ohio where Burt had bought a couple of hectares of land for them to raise some animals on and came with a cute cottage in desperate need a some TLC.
Kurt had seen it as an adventure and loved being able to explore the countryside, feed the calves, help his daddy to pick out colors and paint the walls. He happily spent hours in their veggie garden and at the lessons that came by mail. Mail day was his favorite, knowing that once a week new lessons would arrive along with a movie, a book, fabric or sometimes other special items like shoes or panties.
Burt had seen it as the way to protect his son from the cruelty that the world at large had already shown, a way to keep his boy from being corrupted, to provide him an education in a safe environment which wouldn’t include name calling and being shoved. All of the things his son's grade school hadn’t managed to do very well at all and Burt knew all too well that things would only get worse as his boy got older, once his secret got out. Because once the boys at high school found out about his son's pussy they would hurt him or simply help themselves to his son's innocence.
When puberty hit Kurt it hit him hard. The moodiness, the greasy skin, the constant questioning of their lifestyle and the changes to his body, why he couldn’t go into town with his father to fetch the mail and groceries, why there weren’t any kids his own age to play with and so on. Which was why, in part, Burt brought home two Alaskan Malamute pups from the same litter one evening, knowing the boys would become best friends with his son, could provide security and would help out on their small holding, especially during the winter months, as they were bred to do.
Kurt had squealed with delight when the puppies popped out of the large box that his father had set down in the lounge. The most inquisitive of the pair was a light reddish brown and white pup who scouted around the room before sneaking up on the teenage boy and nipping at his socked foot, whereas his black and white brother bounded straight at Kurt and licked him up the side of his face.
“What’ll we name ‘em, Kurt?” The black one yipped as he jumped in circles between them while his brother groaned in reply.
“He knows we’re talking about him, daddy.” Kurt laughed as the black puppy balanced on his back legs before tumbling over and jumping up with his tongue lolling out.
“Look, he’s just a born performer, isn’t he? Maybe we should call him Elvis?” Burt joked.
“Does that mean the other one is Presley?” His son said while wrinkling his nose. The brown one snuck around the box then suddenly jumped forward and tackled his brother, playfully biting at his neck.
“Well, no, no. You can call him whatever you like. This one looks like he’s a hunter though.”
Kurt clapped and declared, “That’s it. Hunter!” as the pups wrestled each other on the floor. The black one lay on his back and whined at his brother until he pranced away. “Listen to you, silly. You sound like the finch that hangs around our back door.” Kurt chuckled as he ruffled the dog’s fur.
“Well, I like the sound of that…Finch!”
“Hunter and Finch…that’s perfect, daddy. Can they sleep with me tonight?”
“I don’t see why not, they’re your new friends, kiddo. You may as well get used to each other. Let’s go get their bowls set up, then you can head to bed and I’ll come down, get my goodnight kiss and tuck you in.”
“Okay!” Kurt yelled as he jumped to his feet and ran into the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards. “Will these do?” he asked holding up two rectangular tubs.
“Yep, but they’ll need one for their drinking water. You find that and I’ll give ‘em a snack.”
After a quick visit to the cottage’s fenced off front yard with Burt holding on to Hunter and Kurt with Finch so the puppies could do their business, everyone piled back in the house and headed for Kurt’s bedroom.
***
Two years later and the pups had fully grown into their once gangly bodies and regularly spent mornings with Burt in the milking shed or in the paddocks with the cattle, more often making a mess rather than helping. Even though the dogs listened to Kurt and mostly followed instructions, it was Burt that had trained them with the basics commands.
He was proud of the bond between his boys; his son and the teenage dogs played as puppies together, roughhousing and chasing each other through the house and gardens but the dogs always stood guard over Kurt, acting fiercely protective whenever the milk tanker arrived or when the vet stopped by. Burt knew that his precious son was safe with the boys and it allowed him a little freedom as Kurt got older to head out for a night in the closest town to take in the pleasures of a local lady or two, not to mention pick up larger items they might need like fuel or parts for the generator to keep them going over winter.
Prior to Kurt’s sixteenth birthday, their days started like any other with Kurt bent over the kitchen table, legs spread with his panties on the floor, while Burt had breakfast before heading out to milk the cows at 4am. Usually he licked and sucked at Kurt’s pussy to his heart’s content, letting his son writhe until he took pity on him and would rub a thumb over his clit while lapping at his juices until Kurt clenched and came on his tongue.
Kurt would then freshen up with a shower and cook a hearty second breakfast, like the characters in his favorite books, ready to sit down and eat when his daddy came back in. His mornings were most often spent studying with his father’s help and completing the weekly tasks in his lesson plan, only occasionally asking Google some questions that he didn’t want to ask his daddy.
Of course, he was unaware that Burt only allowed him access to an old laptop that was connected to the home network but not the internet. Kurt’s ‘Google’ was, in fact, an IM program that was linked only to his father’s account. Burt felt it was in everyone’s best interests to understand what it was that Kurt wanted to know about and to be able to give him only the information that he deemed necessary or palatable, to keep him safe.
Actual access to the world at large would mean one of two things: that one day Kurt would want to leave and secondly, he would understand that his pussy was for pleasure and he would find someone (or they would find him) to do the job. That wouldn’t do. Not when Burt had been saving his son all these years from being used as a toy or a slave. He knew deep down that he could give his boy everything he needed, in time.
Granted, Kurt received pleasure during his father’s first ‘breakfast’ but it had been made clear that it was about Burt getting the ‘protein’ he needed for the day and not about Kurt having an orgasm, so on days when Burt was in a rush and didn’t have time to get Kurt over the edge, his son didn’t make a fuss because he knew it was about nutrition not his pleasure. If it happened, it was a bonus and they never discussed whether it felt good or not, Kurt knew it just needed to be done because you can’t start the day on an empty stomach. His health lessons had only reaffirmed that people needed breakfast to function and protein was good for you.
Burt knew though that the same couldn’t be said about his son giving him a goodnight kiss. That was for pleasure but it had nothing to do with Kurt’s. Because of their early morning starts and home schooling schedule in the morning, Kurt spent his afternoons doing the gardening, baking, housework and occasionally helping out with the calves, meaning their day was over much earlier than in a normal household.
Burt liked to hit the hay at 9pm which meant tucking his boy in while the dogs languished at the end of the bed, and having Kurt open his mouth wide to give his daddy’s cock a goodnight kiss. Most nights, Burt came fast and let Kurt swallow his seed down but occasionally he’d spray his release across his son’s face, just to remind all his boys that Kurt was his, first and foremost.
Before the dogs had come along, it would crust up in streaks that Kurt would forget about and would still be present when he stumbled into the kitchen in the morning. But since the dogs had taken up residence on Kurt’s bed, they licked it off pretty quickly. Kurt didn’t seem to mind too much and Burt would watch from the doorway as his son wrestled with one or both of the dogs before they all settled down to sleep at Kurt’s insistence.
Burt sometimes wondered if his son didn’t know exactly what the dogs were thinking when they wrestled with him like that. Kurt understood that a bull from the next farm over would come to visit and would mount a paddock full of their cows in order to produce calves. He even watched the mating from time to time, although the dogs would be on alert and bark constantly if the vet was in attendance as well, so most of the time Burt suggested that his son take the dogs down to the river to swim or take for a long walk so they wouldn’t be a distraction. Kurt always seemed happy to do so and after the bull had finished for the day, Burt would often go looking for his boys to see if they were alright.
Often times he found them in the field behind the house, playing fetch or chasing Kurt while he held a ball up over his head. Eventually they’d tackle him, pulling at a calf or an ankle to drag him down and then one would run around him in circles while the other would jump on him, trying to lick his face. Burt would stand and wait, watching as the young dogs tried to stand over his him or would put their noses to his son’s crotch, knowing eventually Kurt would tell them off or move and they’d lose interest or spot their daddy by the gate.
***
With the onset of June, Burt not only celebrated Kurt's sixteenth birthday, but came across the opportunity to breed his cows once more with another farmer’s prizewinning bull from a few towns over. They’d had the chance to meet at a sports bar after Burt had celebrated his forty-fifth birthday with a nice enough redheaded hooker. Unfortunately her overnight rates were through the roof, so he’d had a good time and headed back to the bar to watch the big game and shoot the shit with some locals. William had offered the services of his stud, Puckerman, to have a crack at Burt’s cows, which he happily accepted not thinking of the fact that William lived more than a few hours away.
So when the call came that William could get away on a Thursday but would need to stay overnight before driving back, Burt hesitated. They barely had visitors that came inside the cottage, let alone had someone to stay overnight before. After a moment’s silence while he thought of the fresh blood to his herd that this could bring, he agreed and made plans for the end of the week.
Kurt was surprised but excited at the prospect of a visitor. It was always nice to meet new people and although he felt shy at first, especially if the dogs were barking like crazy, he soon warmed up to company. His father had given him a talk after he’d let Kurt know that William would be sleeping on the couch Thursday night. Namely about being dressed appropriately, no wandering around the house in only his panties or only in his nightshirt sans panties, as William may find it uncomfortable.
***
Part 2>>