House Dad

Dan never wanted to move into his son's place, but he had no choice without a job and under foreclosure. They never got along, Dan knowing his son was going to turn out different from a young age. They stayed on friendly terms, Dan never taking a huge role in his son's life, but even then was at odds with the conditions for living in the house. Supposedly he'd have to do the upkeep, cleaning and laundry.

Dan was not a fan. He felt any housework was women's work, under him. It was his ex-wife's fault she didn't learn her place, and Dan was not going to stoop to her level. He'd at least pretend to work, half-assing the job, figuring out how to get ahead and get a new job.

He was snooping through the house while his son was gone when he came across a silver chain. He laughed looking at it. The jewelry was much more manly than his son would ever consider, and certainly something he could sell and get a nice return for. He quickly wrapped it around his wrist, continuing to go through the rest of the house.

His mind wandered as he searched, his thoughts silencing. Slowly he began to notice other things about the house, dust and dirt. The cleanliness. He became annoyed, immediately getting a towel and broom to wipe the surfaces. He didn't realize what he was doing as he began to clean the house. He ended up doing the dishes, laundry, and even mopping the floor, his mind quiet and complaisant.

It wasn't until he started making dinner that he had time to think. He wasn't hungry, so why was he cooking? He knew his son was coming home soon, but that couldn't be the reason. Could it? He felt conflicted. Cooking for others was a servant's job, he shouldn't be doing this. Even with that thought his arms kept moving, his mind struggling to grasp the situation. As he continued working he felt the sense begin to fade away, a fog rolling through his head wiping away his worries. A good dad would take care of his son, right? Of course he'd want to cook.

By the time his son was home he'd cooked up a feast, making sure everything was perfect as they ate. He felt happy being there for his son, no matter who he was. They spent the evening watching tv together before heading to sleep, Dan feeling determined the next day to do a better job.

A week had gone by under this new routine when Dan found himself sitting on the floor waiting for the laundry to finish. He began to feel a sense of realization dawn on him as he looked down at himself. He was dressed in skimpy clothes- joggers shorts and a racer tank his son had that barely fit him. He felt like a slut, his thick legs exposed, his upper body and chest in full view. But still he sat, unmoving, his mind struggling to think.

No, this was fine. His son liked when he wore this, and he was there for his son. He felt something deep in his consciousness, something struggling under the depths of apathy. He felt it as he waited, his mind empty, not a thought in his head.

In a moment the washer dinged finished and he was distracted again, his body moving to get things done. He was just a tool now, a dumb himbo house boy, ready to serve in any way he needed. He smiled at the thought, excited to spend quality time pleasuring his son in any way possible.