A gay story: Nico Herst, You're the Worst! Ch. 02 Part Two: Tasting the New Gravy
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“Remember that old story about the founding of Meadowdaleville and the turkeys? It probably wasn’t their fault that they got caught up in an event like that. Sometimes, I think you just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
~H.R.
Fish and chips, honey baked ham topped with succulent pineapple slices, and smoking hot gravy-smothered chicken.
These were the “Main Dish” centerpieces of any respectable Meadowdaleville Thanksgiving feast. You can’t expect a little meleagris aversion to stop an entire town from celebrating one of the most important holidays in the U.S. could you? If anything, the god-fearing folks of Meadowdaleville did it up bigger and brighter than anywhere else in the entire country. A week before the big day they hosted an “Always Thankful Thanksgiving Festival” where everyone got together to show off their best dishes and have some good old autumn fun.
And no, the fact that Cratetown held their festival on the exact same day did NOT mean that the two towns were in direct competition with one another. Why would you even think that?
Regardless, a successful festival for the town meant drawing in people from the surrounding towns with flavorful foods they couldn’t resist. That meant preparing early, and as you know –
“The early bird get’s the worm!” Mr. Herst exclaimed. He was wearing his special Thanksgiving Day Apron and holding a large lidded pot with his oven mitts. He beamed so brightly, standing there before his dining room table, that you’d think the festival was right around the corner. However…
“Dad, it’s AUGUST!” two young men seated further down the table exclaimed, and their heads fell back over their chairs in exaggerated exasperation. Both men were near spitting images of one another. Both had reddish blonde hair, although styled differently for the sake of distinction. They both were about the same height as their middle aged father, about 5’7, although they were a great deal thinner than their squarish shaped pater. In fact, you could tell that both the boys played sports because they had that lean muscle quality, sitting there in their printed tees looking for all the world as they’d rather be anywhere else. They knew it was hopeless to argue too much with their father, though. When it came to cooking nothing could sway or dissuade him. He still stood there smiling with his apron and sweater vest, that mustache he kept meticulously groomed, and his thick rimmed spectacles. No, they were going to ingest whatever he’d made. Both, sighed.
“Now why the gloomy faces?” Mr. Herst queried as he walked to their side of the table, that large pot gently clanging in front of him. Whatever was in there it gave off a faint delicious smell. “You both know that as the owner of the town’s biggest grocery store our family has to make an awesome showing at the festival every year and without fail. Joshua, elbows off the table, please.”
Joshua, the twin with his hair swept back and the sides of his head shaved, rolled his eyes and dropped his elbows from the table. His brother, Jeb, stifled a laugh. They looked up at their father giving them a look of faint reproach (he was too happy to get angry on a day like this).
“I couldn’t think of any better way to try this out than with my boys. After all it IS…”
“The family business,” the twins finished along with their father. Mr. Herst just shook his head and laughed, “Guess, I’ve said that one time too many. I know you two may think you know it all now that you’re gearing up for your last year of High School, but you two could be more like your brother here. See, he wouldn’t dare tease his father like you two.” as he spoke Mr. Herst walked over to the large mass of overly muscled flesh that was his oldest son Nicholas, Nico for short. “N” if you want to get REALLY short, but let’s not get crazy with it.
Nico was stationed at the very end of the long dining room table – as in he was sitting directly on top of the table itself. What a state our herculean protagonist had himself in this time, and boy was it getting to him. His back was propped up against a long-backed ornate wooden chair that must have been in the family for years. The chair was pushed in so that the back of it was flush against the table, the legs of it were tied to the legs of the table with thick ropes. And speaking of held in place – that’s the state Nico found his ankles in. Strapped to the sides of the table with leather straps that were attached to wooden grooves in the dining room table itself, grooves that deftly blended into the various engravings in the table. So, basically your average dining room table, because Meadowdaleville is your average American town (I’m glad we agree). Nico’s arms were left unrestrained but he was expected, as he always was in his dining room spot, to stabilize himself by holding on to the chair that propped him up. This left him looking quite the sight. With his legs splayed open and his butt thrust forward as it were, adding to the fact that the young man was stark naked. His body was slightly bent in his back (thank goodness his “affliction” rendered him so limber) and this meant that not only was his shapely glutes thrust forward, but those were mostly obscured by the presence of his oversized ballsack that held his cantaloupe sized nuts. His cock was always noteworthy, measuring in a whopping 15″ soft, and laying back on his concaved stomach. The expression on Nico’s face was anxious and that meant that that cinnamon scent he gave off, due to his affliction was filling up the room.
If anything the twins were finding that their embarrassing older brother was actually making them hungry. Which is exactly why Mr. Herst almost always required the aid of his eldest progeny in his cooking exploits. Unless you were often around food, as the twins were, it would be hard to detect – and mystery is essential to any longstanding recipe.
“No,” Joshua began.
“He wouldn’t DARE tease you,” Jeb finished, with a salacious smile.
Both brothers were well aware of their older sibling’s predicament and how it had made him the black sheep of the household. They were also aware of how their father treated him, as he was doing now – but that didn’t mean it really involved them. As their father always said – he’d done it to himself. They never questioned how Nico could have done this to himself but, let’s be honest, they had the attention spans of goldfish crackers. Already their minds were drifting off to playing ball outside or doing anything else, really.
“Right,” Mr. Herst agreed setting the pot he’d been holding on top of Nico’s stomach, which currently already had his humungous cock on it and sooo…
“Ahhhhh!” Nico hissed through his clenched teeth and screwed his eyes tight. He never let go of the back of his chair but he did try to twist to the side. The sensation of his his enormous dick being forced into his hard abs by a steaming pot made his eyes water.
“Isn’t that…hot?” asked Joshua with mild concern.
“Just warm. Your brother can handle it. Lord knows he doesn’t do much else,” Mr. Herst said, waving off Joshua’s concern and ignoring Nico’s discomfort altogether. He removed the lid from the pot and a savory smell of herbs and something meaty filled the air. Nico had begun sweating profusely because of the heat from the pot and his own embarrassment. Nonetheless, the part of his mind that couldn’t escape what was happening to him didn’t keep his eyes off the goopy brown contents presented by his father.
“Is that…” Joshua began.
“…Liquid meatloaf?” Jeb finished. His brother kicked him lightly under the table with a look of disapproval.
“Good gravy, boys,” their father exclaimed with light-hearted exasperation, “it’s-”
“Gravy,” Nico whispered. He visibly gulped and became very quiet.
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Herst said, eyeing Nico, “See, I can’t believe you two having to rely on your older brother to tell you what’s what. But then again…” he then grabbed Nico’s face, squeezing his cheeks together and making the young man’s lips pucker like a fish, “That’s what older brother’s are for, right? Gotta be worth something at some point, don’t we son?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Yes, w-h-a-t?” Mr. Herst raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Sir.” Nico said keeping his eyes on the savory gravy. The smell of which was even stronger than the light scent his affliction made him give off.
“Good. Good,” Mr. Herst let go of his son’s face and lightly slapped him 1-2-3 times, “it’s good that all my boys are doing their part for the festival.” He turned to regard the twins who looked at each other with irritation. “Jeb. Joshua. You two have the most important task, and it’ll do your old man proud.”
The overjoyed patriarch quickly fetched a large silver ladle from a platter he’d placed on the side of the room (he was really making a production out of this, my goodness) and dipped it into the thick gravy. He slowly, all the while smiling, lifted it up so that everyone could watch the goopy contents spill over the sides of the ladle while the aroma wafted out into the room. He then, with all the grace expected of a great chef, quickly splashed the wondrously warm liquid on his oldest son’s oversized fuckbags. While Mr. Herst’s twin boys’ eyes grew wide with surprise, his oldest son’s eyes grew wide as his scream became a crescendo. The searing how pain on his nuts was not something any normal person could easily bear and Nico’s “condition” made his body much more sensitive to…well…nearly every sensation. So what was warm – was near scalding for the young man. Luckily he was restrained because as his yelling grew he began to thrash about to escape the heat. Struggling with his legs, shaking against the chair holding him up – his mind could only send the base message to flee. For his part, his father watched this with, probably, more glee than a father should take while basically basting his progeny’s oversized nutsack with warm meat dressing and watching the boy suffer. Mr. Herst held Nico’s arms in place and watched the whole thing while the twins jumped up and held down their older sibling’s feet as best they could. They watched with mild disgust as the delicious smelling liquid spread down Nico’s nuts and down the crack of his ass. He struggled so much that he was actually causing the gravy on his testicles to splatter over the table – and worst yet you could see that the post-teen adonis’ dick was getting harder. It was already reaching up to his pecs lightly flecking pre-cum this way and that.
This only served to piss the twins off. They had to sit through this whole boring cooking bullshit and the person enjoying it the most was the freak of the family?
The both glanced at each other as they helped hold him down: He wouldn’t enjoy it for long.
“See, Jeb? See, Joshua?” said Mr. Herst, as he never took his eyes off the gravy, “my recipe insures that the gravy sticks to the meat, ANY meat – no matter how low the quality.” He smacked the quieting Nico along the back of his head with that last part but Nico hardly registered the pain since it paled to what was going on on his crotch. His mind was a blur and his vision of what was happening was clouded by tears (the presence of which, sadly, was not a reaction to the heat. Who on earth wants to be treated like a low grade meat platter? Just because puberty had turned him into so kind of musclebound miscreant didn’t mean his family should treat him this way. Right?). Mr Herst let go of Nico’s remaining arm and stood up straight, eyes still on his son’s coated cum-makers (or more precisely the gravy upon them), he made a grand gesture with his arms and said, “Now for the taste test!”
“What?” Jeb said as he let go of Nico’s foot, his voice cracking.
“You mean out of the POT, right Dad?” Joshua asked, not hiding his indignation.
“No, no, boys,” Mr. Herst clasped his palms together, “if we’re going to take home the prize I need to know that this recipe can make ANYTHING taste good. You’re both adults now and that means more direct involvement in the family business. So I need you two to lick this stuff up off of your brother and give me all the details. I’m talking a real tried-and-true kind of critique so we can knock it out of the park!”
“Come on, Dad…” Jeb said.
“Could we not and say we did?” Joshua finished.
“Joshua and Jeb Herst,” Mr. Herst repled in a sing-song voice, “you’re not leaving this table until every drop of mouthwatering gravy has been licked, sucked, or glomphed off of Nico.”
The twins looked at each other and then back at their father.
“What’s a ‘glomph’?” asked Jeb. I told you the twins were dim. Can’t even pick up on simple context clues. How they made it to their senior year of high school is beyond me. But I digress, it’s about to get good.
“Boys,” Mr. Herst stated.
The twins sighed and began removing their shirts. Didn’t expect that? Well, both Joshua and Jeb knew (if they knew anything) that their father wouldn’t want them getting their clothes dirty. So instead they took off their t-shirts and revealed their startlingly athletic bodies. No, they weren’t muscle monsters like their older brother but no one could say that either young man wasn’t gifted with well-toned bodies and a mirror set of six-packs. The tanlines on both were a testament to time spent in the outdoors. The Herst twins played as many sports as time allowed, rarely spending any time in the house (and never discussing what went on there). Athletics suited both of them just fine, and truth be told staying active made both of them fairly popular at school.
The twins folded their shirts, set them on the chairs, and bent over the table. Both boys stuck out their tongues and looked up at their father, who nodded his head. Nico was still trying process what was going on. He still felt the heat of the gravy on his ballsack and was aware that his brothers were doing something but, as had become habit, he must have been trying to mentally remove himself from the situation.
“Pay attention, Nico,” His father said, smiling, as he gripped his son on both sides of his skull and oriented his head downward. Nico’s view was slightly obscured by the mushroom head of enormous cock sticking straight up across his chest. A large bead of pre-cum was poised on the tip. “Go on,” Mr. Herst urged the twins.
The twins glanced at one another again, full of meaning. Then set their tongues to their brother’s hairless balls, dragging their tongues from the underside of the full sack to top and leaving a clear trail free of gravy. Truth be told, the gravy was delicious – probably the best either Jeb or Joshua had ever tasted. In another circumstance, where they weren’t shirtless in their family dining room licking homemade condiments off their oversized bro’s cannonballs while he was tied to the table, they would have really enjoyed it and really dug in. But they had to make their father happy.
Conversely, Nico wasn’t at all happy. When the twins lapped up the side of his balls he drew his chest upward and moaned like a whore. The softness of their pink tongues on his cojones was electrifying. His father let go of one side of the dark-haired Adonis’ head and nodded at the twins to continue. Mr. Herst never stopped smiling, he knew when a recipe was going over well, and Jeb and Joshua’s faces told him this one was golden, and nothing else mattered. Both of the twins kept their eyes on their father (Nico might as well have not been there. Only 3 people in the room mattered) and put their soft lips to the center of ballsack, close enough to almost be kissing. They then began to suck up the liquid that was there, making all kind of obscene noises. Nico was beside himself with pleasure he couldn’t handle. He sat there and whimpered due to the sensations coursing through him.
“There there now,” his father cooed, “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” He reached over with his free hand and scooped up some the pearl of pre-cum that had collected on the edge of Nico’s cock. While his son shamelessly moaned he drove the two fingers deep into his child’s mouth and began smearing the young man’s fluid all over the inside, almost like brushing his teeth. Nico didn’t resist and simply allowed it to continue to happen. What COULD he do anyway? Between the restraints and the sensations, the young man was lost. “Just let your brothers help out here,” Mr. Herst whispered.
“It’s really great, Dad,” Joshua said as he lifted his head up.
“It’s awesome,” agreed Jeb. The area around his mouth was lightly smeared with some gravy.
“Yes!,” exclaimed Mr. Herst, removing his fingers from Nico’s mouth and allowing the young muscledude’s head to loll to the side (Nico just sat in the position breathing heavily). “Say, why don’t I leave you two here with your brother and you can continue taste testing for me. I’ve got these for you,” he walked over that that platter and retrieved two wooden spoons. He handed one to each of the twins, “So you can spread it around as you like. I know Nico won’t mind helping for a bit longer. He has to be glad to finally be out of his room anyway.”
With that Mr. Herst practically skipped out of the room, he was so pleased with himself, and his three children heard him head into the basement.
The twins, wooden spoons at the ready, looked at each other and smiled. Then they looked at their older brother with expressions bereft of brotherly love. You see, the twins really did resent having to spend time with Nico like this. They felt as if they were constantly forced to waste their days “taking care of” their worthless older sibling and even now that annoyance and anger bubbled to the surface. They stood over him and he looked back at them. Clear tear tracks down the sides of his handsome face, sweaty muscles bulging, and that huge cock of his (who would want something so big?!). He looked like mess.
Nico looked at them with apologetic eyes. He knew they’d rather be doing other things. He knew that watching his humiliation and embarrassment wasn’t fun for them. However, he was helpless to change it. He’d never wanted to become what he was. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to even make it happen. In his state he didn’t dare ask for them to release him, because his father would be furious.
“Dad said that the gravy was good on any kind of meat, right Jeb?” Joshua asked, never taking his eyes off of Nico.
“Yeah, why?” replied Jeb.
“Well, I wonder how it’d taste on something a little more tender. Don’t you wonder about that, Nico?”
Nico’s looked startled and a bead of sweat dripped down his face. He looked at Jeb asked, “What do you mean more tender?”
He was sure it didn’t mean anything good.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Joshua said. He took the handle part of the wooden spoon and rubbed it along the middle of Nico’s scrotum. “This part was a little tough. I thinking we should,” with that the other twin grabbed the top of the spoon and thrust the entire thing forward, Nico’s huge testicles strained against either side of his nutsack. Nico bucked and gritted his teeth against the sudden assault. He began involuntarily sputtering as he looked from one twin’s face to the other.
“Tenderize it?” Jeb finished.
“Hell, yeah,” Joshua agreed.
—
90 minutes passed before Greg Herst emerged from the basement of his home. The basement that his children were not allowed to enter, even though they were now adults. This was not quite remarkable as every upstanding Meadowvdalevillite pater had his basement getaway. The only other family member who’d ever visited that basement no longer lived in the home, although something about her continued to grip the very foundations of the home. Mr. Herst had been thinking about this as he entered the kitchen but the thought was pushed aside by the near silence of his home.
He heard the sound of quick, even labored breathing, which he assumed was Nico. He calmly hung up his apron and slowly walked towards the brightly lit dining room. “Boys,” he called out without really expecting a response.
What Mr. Herst, loving father of three, beheld as he entered the dining room made him clench his fists and furrow his brow. He let out a low grunt at the mess left in the dining room. The pot of gravy, now tarnished and empty, lay on the floor with the silver ladle poking out of it. Splatterings of gravy graced the dining room table, and in one place was smeared. Two of the chairs had been knocked over and a number of ink pens strewn about.
Greg Hurst’s vision blurred into a red haze when his eyes finally laid upon his oldest boy. Mr. Hurst’s fists shook as he seethed in the dining room entryway. His eldest was the real mess here, and the twins were nowhere in sight.
The oldest Herst sibling’s breath manifested in quick ragged spurts, like he’d just stopped running. Every so often he’d cough as if his throat were full of phlegm, but he was assuredly breathing through his mouth – nearly hyperventilating. Nico’s entire body was also covered in the thick and savory gravy concoction from the tips of his toes and some goopy globs had even been dribbled into his dark black locks of hair. What really drew the eye was the size of Nico’s bollocks – which had grown a third larger than their usual size while the young musclehead’s sack had turned a bright pink color with brighter red patches peppered throughout. Curiously, this was the part of Nico with the least amount of sauce on him. There were also ruddy handprints on Nico’s ass, and Greg knew from personal experience how long a handprint could last on his son’s outrageously bouncy white asscheeks. Greg’s body tensed when he saw that Nico’s overgrown cock was still hard as steel and jumping sporadically, straining against itself for release between the young man’s broad pecs. Under Nico’s chin were the two wooden spoons that Mr. Herst had given Jeb and Joshua. The spoons were held in place by Nico’s, assuredly at this point, uncomfortable position on the dining room table. The young man seemed unaware of the cloud of anger approaching him as his father took slow steps across the room. Perhaps it was because his face was covered by a single sheet of clean white paper that been taped to his forehead. He also didn’t visibly react when Mr. Herst snatched the paper from his face.
Underneath the paper, Nico’s face looked akin to a deer in headlights – unable to flee but dimly aware. His eyes were bloodshot and it was obvious that he must have done quite a bit of crying. Nico’s face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, but he never looked up and his eyes remained vaguely focused on some point beyond the presence of his bulbous and leaking cockhead. Seeing something indeterminate with a wide-eyed intensity while his ragged breathing and coughing continued.
Mr. Herst read the note:
Dad,
Did your tasting thing. No choice but to see how gravy tasted on something tender. Used the spoons to make sure Nico’s nuts were nice and “soft”. Nico not much help but that’s whatever, he never helps out much anyway. Sorry about the mess, but we wanted to play some b-ball. Gravy is still great. Maybe serve on Swedish meatballs or a porkbutt?
~Joshua and Jeb
Mr. Herst felt all the tension leave his body and chuckled. What was he to do with those two rascals? To think of Joshua and Jeb running his store for him one day…well they had a long way to go. Perhaps, now that they were in their senior year, they’d gain a bit of maturity. Although, the fact that they’d left him a note left him feeling a little proud. Then he turned to the eyesore that was Nico, with his muscular frame still restrained and his eyes looking at nothing.
“Nico,” Mr. Herst said in stern voice.
Nico slowly looked up and his eyes struggled to focus, “D-Dad -”
“Nico,” Mr. Herst cut him off before he said anything, further “Whenever or however you get yourself loose, make sure you clean up this hellish disaster you left all around the dining room. I expect it done before dinner in a few hours.”
Nico’s eyebrows came together in confusion as his father began to walk out of the room, “Dad, I don’t…”
“Oh, and Nico…” Greg Herst said as he crossed back to his son.
He took one hand and firmly pressed his splayed fingers along the base of Nico’s enormous and quivering hard cock. Nico’s mouth opened wide as he groaned with pleasure, “Ah-a-ahhh!”
Once again he’d lost himself an explosive orgasm and his dick, pointed directly at his face, unleashed a torrent of white cum that splashed against his face, his hair, and into his unfortunately open mouth (Nico hated the taste of his own cum). Ripples of uncontrollable pleasure rippled through every fiber of his young herculean body and his father scowled. His boy was undoubtedly some kind of abomination, covered in his own jizz from that unseemly donkey dick. Greg sighed.
“If this room isn’t spotless by the time dinner is ready you’ll regret it,” Mr. Herst hissed as he lifted his hand and exited the room, leaving Nico by himself.