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The old farm had been left to lie fallow for a decade, ever since Grandpa Colt up and disappeared. It had none of the modern facilities of the other Colt farms, so it was never a priority to get into working order, but Keith decided it was the perfect place to teach his son a lesson about discipline. His oldest son Lance was about to start college, and he didn't want to deal with any of the issues his brothers told him about their sons. He was going to teach his son what work meant before he spent the next four years at the agricultural technical institute.

Keith Colt was the current CEO of Colt Equestrian Services, the largest purveyor of horse semen in the tri-county area. His father had been an extraordinarily fortunate horse breeder, with a shelf of Triple Crown trophies being a constant decoration in the Colt family home. Keith suspected his father was having a secret relationship and vanished to somewhere tropical to spend the rest of his days. He and his younger brothers took over and specialized the business. They now had a stable full of stallions pumping out gallons of white gold. One single load from their top producer paid for his son's entire college. That runaway success came at a price; it meant his son did not truly learn the value of anything. He was a lazy, spoiled slob and although Keith could pay his site managers to tackle this project, he felt it was the last time he would be able to teach his son something meaningful about work. They were driving out there now, in a huge pickup truck with a trailer hitched to it, ready to haul any and all garbage off the property.

Lance resented his dad for ruining his last summer at home. He was in the passenger seat, watching the cornfields pass by the window since he lost all cell service an hour ago. The current family farm was just outside of city limits, but the old one was miles away from civilization and cellphone towers. He knew he had no control over his life, that he would always be an extension of his father and his wishes. His grades weren't high enough in high school to get into a good school, but the family name was enough to get him into AgriTech College. He had no friends, even though he was a rich kid. No one wanted to hang out with the guy who's family milked horse cocks to make their living, even if it made them stinking rich. He wished his phone was working, so he could just endlessly scroll porn instead of focusing on all his shortcomings.

Especially that one. Lance glanced over at his dad driving. Even from this angle he could see it, the massive imprint against his dad's thigh. His dad was proud of his giant cock; all his jeans and shorts were tailored so that every man knew he was packing heat. He didn't want to be obsessed with his father's cock, but when he only had a chode, one inch long and one inch thick above a ball bag with two beans in it, how could he not think about not getting his dad's huge cock genes? The only thing that stopped the merciless bullying for his baby dick in the school showers was the threat of his family pulling their donations to all the school's sport funds. It was the shortcoming that defined Lance's life, and one his father couldn't understand. When you had over a foot of dick in your pants it was easy to say size doesn't matter. He couldn't stand looking at corn anymore, putting on his sunglasses and leaning against the window. to try and catch a nap before he had to start his summer of hard work. Sleep wouldn't come, not with the monster embodying all his shortcomings was right next to him, shifting and swelling with every bump in the road. Through barely open eyes he watched his dad's penis move under dirty denim.

Keith wasn't stupid. He's the one could tell his son had his eyes locked to his crotch. He knew he was raising a faggot, but he couldn't blame the kid. When every guy was more than a man than you, how could you not become obsessed with their cocks and balls? Keith knew he was giving his son a complex, but he had to admit, the attention felt nice. Nothing beat having the guy you shot out of your balls obsessed with the place he came from. Based on his son's internet search history, it wouldn't take much for him to worship his dad's penis whole-heartedly. One of his employees told him it was responsible parenting to check in on what his son was looking at online, and he still remembered how hard he got seeing all the websites with gaycest, dadson, and fatherfucker in the URLs. Last night, Lance was up late again. Keith wondered if his son knew he heard every time he used that ultrasonic vibrator to annihilate his little dick. They shared a bedroom wall for fuck's sake. He was constantly reminded his son's favorite hobby was jacking it to his old man. It created a twisted desire in him, and now he had to beat off to get his erection under control enough to roll over and get some sleep.

His cock had fully awakened now, a hard monstrous thing stretching to his knee. He drove with his right arm and let his left fall to his leg, casually rubbing his boner through his jeans. Lance could only imagine what it felt like to play with yourself with more than a finger and a thumb. Keith's left hand kept going up and down his thigh, squeezing and grabbing at himself. A dark spot started to form at the tip. During the last hour of the drive out to the farm, Lance watched that spot grow into a half dollar sized piece of denim soaked with his father's pre-cum.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

Lance heard the driver's side door shut; he opened his eyes. The scale of his grandfather's hoarding hadn't been communicated to him. His humble ranch-style home was surrounded by a graveyard of rusted machines. An overgrown gravel path snaked between the main road and the house, curving around the machines and reaching the barn behind them. Keith had pulled the truck up to the barn's front.

"Why don't ya stretch your legs and check out the barn, son." Keith had a way of making every question a command. Lance groaned but did as he was told. His dad was already walking away to the main house.

"I'm gunna turn on the water and electricity and get our sitch set up. Don't just be on your phone! We are staying out here til that barn is cleared out, so get-to-gettin'"

The barn was old white aluminum, with a big rolling shutter door on its front. He got it a foot off the ground before the shriek of rusted metal stopped all momentum in the rusted door. A quick walk around the barn showed that the only other entrance was a side door blocked by junk.

"Goddamnit!" was all Lance could say when he realized he would need to get on his hands and knees and crawl under the door. He wasn't the fattest guy in his family, but Lance had enough heft on his frame that the one foot gap would be a tight squeeze. He lowered himself to the ground, sucking in his gut. It still dragged the ground a bit, smearing his white tee shirt with red-brown soil. Getting into the barn would have been much easier if there wasn't a wall of old junk nearly pressed up against the door. His belt was not up to the challenge of keeping his blue jeans up as he pulled and contorted himself under the door; he could feel them falling around his knees as he wriggled. He tried to ignore how stupid he looked with his fat ass in white briefs, stuck halfway out the barn. When he finally got himself under and found a sturdy enough piece of wood to help pull himself up, he was rewarded with the sound of tearing fabric. There was a nail sticking out that caught his shirt, tearing it nearly in half.

"God-FUCKING-damnit!"

He kept swearing as he tore the damned dirty shirt off him and pulled his jeans back up to under his belly. Not much light penetrated the dark interior of the barn; everything was a jumbled mass in shadow. He gave up trying find what the shutter door was getting stuck on and set off to unblocking the side door.

The barn was filled with everything his grandpa thought could be useful some day, wooden crates stuffed with rusted pieces of metal, an antique tractor, hay bales wrapped in rotting plastic sheets. Navigating the refuse was only possible by the stray beams of light coming into the barn. The junk came up right to the interior walls of the barn, so Lance's only way through was squeezing and climbing over garbage to get to the side door. It was a terrible idea. He didn't have the coordination or the vision to get through there unscathed. He slipped after climbing over the first pile of crates. He was grateful he landed on the one clear patch of dirt in the entire building.

His groan from hitting the ground turned into a yelp, before he realized an antique mirror was only showing a reflection, not a ghost.

"What the fuck is this?"

Lance didn't expect to find anything interesting while helping his dad clean out his grandpa's barn, but he didn't know his grandpa had a habit of buying anything horse-related at auctions and estate sales. Past the wooden boxes was all the parts of a carousel. They had been unceremoniously dumped in the back of the barn. Panels of wood covered in ancient paint were piled next to a graveyard of carved horses, rusted poles jutting out of their midsection. The only intact piece of the original structure was a calliope. The pipes of the steam organ were pristine, even in the dim barn Lance could tell they looked out of place. He took a step to get closer, but his foot went right through a rotten piece of wood. His head slammed against the calliope, knocking him out cold.

He didn't know how long he had been there. Or where he was. When Lance got up off the ground he remembered he was in the barn and hit his head, but where had everything gone? No boxes, bins, or piles of wooden horses. Only the calliope. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't get his legs to move. Where would he even go? He couldn't see the shutter doors. side door receded into an infinite blackness. Fear paralyzed him. He couldn't even blink. The calliope began to play. Whistling, piercing notes made fear crescendo into panic and terror.

"BE NOT AFRAID."

The deep, booming voice coming from the dilapidated pipe organ did nothing to calm him. Yellow smoke billowed out of the calliope, filling the entire room. It smelled like his dad's cologne, woodsy, musky, and a sweetness like fresh-cut hay. Immediate euphoria rushed in through Lance's nostrils. He had been shivering, half naked and piss-soaked, but the smoke was heating him up. He was hard; his cock a throbbing, angry stump. Sense was overridden by primal need. He pulled off his boots and stripped out of his wet boxers and jeans and started stroking his little penis with his thumb and forefinger. His other hand found his nipple, tugging and pulling at it and sending him deeper into a blissed out state.

Omni lingered in the smoke, watching the primitive, talking ape fumble with his genitals. The calliope had been the genie's home ever since that ringleader wished it so. He didn't know why that was the man's first wish, but he enjoyed how much easier it was to marinate his master in his corrupting smoke. That ancient oil lamp could not compete with the large brass pipes coming off the calliope. He let his master soak for a couple of hours before hearing his final wishes--becoming impervious to all harm and the true love of his favorite circus performer. Omni wasn't surprised when a ten thousand pound African bull elephant crashed through the carnival. It wasn't the first time he saw a man want to know the rutting strength of a beast, but he did marvel at his master's foresight when it came to his new lover's forty-inch cock. Indestructible guts let him rut with the trumpeting pachyderm until both were utterly exhausted. At his core, Omni was unceasing lust. He had walked the earth before these hopeless creatures crawled out of forests and into their civilizations, but his effect on the males of their species filled his eons with constant delight. Every one of these dumb, horny apes had endless appetites he could grant, filling the lack inside of them with whatever fantasy they could dream up. The pale, chubby specimen hammering away at his nub was an ideal target for Omni. His inadequacies were obvious, and the genie could not wait to take advantage of them.

Lance should have stopped jerking it when the man walked out of the swirling clouds; he knew he should. But it felt so good. Need had attached itself to every nerve in his cock, and he gripped it tight trying to release it. A half-muttered apology for his uncontrollable masturbation came out as a drooling pant. The only thing he could do to preserve his dignity was to look away from the man's piercing eyes. He followed the lines of chiseled muscle down his body, cock throbbing harder as he saw the coarse black hair covering olive skin. A treasure trail led down to a loincloth, slick with the fluids leaking out of a massive cock. Lance didn't register the strange man coming closer to him until he put his hand under his chin and gently tilted his head up to meet his gaze.

"WHAT DO YOU WISH FOR?"

Usually, it's a game people play. Sometimes it's phrased as "what if you won the lottery tomorrow?" Or "What would you do if you ruled the world?" All that talk of impossible desire was a shadow compared to the words coming out of the genie's mouth. It wasn't a way to get to know him, or learn a sexy secret, or to try to blackmail him. This man, this entity, was asking Lance this question because he had the power to make it come true. He knew it instantly, just like he knew how good it felt to touch his tiny little pecker in front of this being of phenomenal cosmic power.

He couldn't get the words out. Omni's smoke rendered most men entirely unintelligible after a few inhales. Words got in the way of want. Enough of his essence had permeated Lance he could look right into his head and see it; the first desire that bubbled to the top of his mind. Although, Omni didn't need to be a mind reader to see what Lance wanted the most. The cock he deserved, one that would make his father envious. Like many of his masters, Lance wasn't in possession of the cognitive faculties to articulate an iron-clad wish, one that left no room for genie interpretation. The stupid ape was too busy gooning to see the sinister glee in the genie's eyes.

"Of course, you wish for a cock as big as a horse's!"

Omni clapped his hands and blinked, making it so and sending off a blaze of fireworks in the barn and up and down Lance's nervous system. Having a desire totally granted, even granted by a wicked genie, is more pleasure that most men experience their whole lives, a hole in the soul, plugged with genie magic. Lance was about to have two more filled.

"And yes, of course. You wish for happiness. A classic wish; my favorite to grant. Oh, and you want to be with your father, always? You Colts are so sentimental, looking after your family."

The blissed-out Lance could barely understand the genie, each of the booming words droned out into that fading calliope sound.

Lance wandered out of the barn. and into the setting sunlight. He managed to get his pants back on, but his shirt was ruined. A loud banging snapped him out a bit. His father had came out of the main house's cellar, his arms covered in grease up to his elbows.

"That goddamn water heater was a temperamental son of a bitch, but I got it workin' for us." He paused, taking in his son's appearance. He knew he never really made the boy work before, but an hour in that barn shell shocked him. His clothes were torn, and red scratches went up and down his soft, pale body. His shirt was a bundle of shreds in his hands, and his jeans were a couple of snips away from being Daisy Dukes. He had a far-off look, maybe he saw something nasty in the back of the barn. "Looks like Grandpa packed the barn fuller than when I was a kid. Let's get those scratches washed off, bud."

Attached to the main house was a building Keith spent many hours in. The farm wasn't a rinky-dink operation when he was growing up. The workers' dorm was equipped to handle twenty four seasonal workers. The men who worked under Grandpa Colt would come back year after year, and Keith appreciated getting to know them. In his meetings with his shareholders, he always emphasized how much his father encouraged him to learn from every man working on the farm. Seeing his son sit on the same oak bench where he spent his weekends helping the farmworkers blow off steam brought back those memories. Sure, he would suck a cock or two, but those guys all went crazy for the meat he was packing. Even at that age he was bigger than all of them. He wish he still had that stamina, he could pump loads down those guys throats all day and still have cum in his balls.

Lance had been watching his dad the whole time, getting lost down memory lane. Clearly happy memories, based on his hard bulge. Whatever happened in the barn had already become a half-remembered dream, and now all Lance could think about was that his dad had started to undress. His dad liked to peacock, but he couldn't remember the last time he saw his dad naked, and he definitely had never seen his dad's erect penis. Keith's sweat and grease stained clothes piled on the floor. His pre-cum stained boxer briefs capped off the pile. He stood there naked in front of his son, letting him drink in his paternal glory. Lance had inherited his dad's tendency to grow mass, but none of the hirsute genes that gave his father a carpet of body hair on his chest, back and belly. Patches of gray and white were coming through his black pelt, but that obscene rod jutting out from under his round belly would let anyone know he was still a stud. Keith lifted up his well-muscled arm and took a whiff of his hairy pit.

"Phew! I stink, son. I'm gunna hit that shower."

When he heard the slam of the doors and the sound of water hitting tile, Lance immediately stripped out of his tattered clothes and begin pulling at his hard pecker. He couldn't believe it. Seeing the penis that made him, fully hard and dripping with pre. When his orgasm hit he had to sit down on the bench between the banks of lockers, waiting to catch his breath. There was cum all over him, more than he ever shot before. He stood up, checking the damage in the locker room mirror. His whole crotch and belly were glazed from the eruption of cum, more than he had ever produced in his life. Looking at his reflection he saw that his balls were definitely bigger. And darker. What were two peas in a pod were now acceptable walnuts, with color to match.

"Holy shit" was all Lance could say as his penis flexed in his hand. It pulsed again, doubling in length. More pre-cum began to drool from the tip. Feeling his penis get bigger brought back the scent of the barn, that smoky, musky scent that knocked him on his ass, that made him speak his deepest desires to something older and more powerful than any god in a church. He didn't even touch his cock this time, but remembering just the presence of the thing in the barn made him ejaculate. White globs of sperm splattered against the mirror. He gripped his cock, feeling the blood rush into it and expand it more and more. For the first time, his cock was big enough for him to get a good grip on it, and his balls finally had a heft. He couldn't wait to show off to his dad.

Keith almost stopped his shower to check on his son, but he figured if his boy needed to get a load or two out before seeing his dad naked again, he wouldn't bother him. The hot water tank for the place was massive, so he didn't mind lingering under the hot water, soaping up to get the musk and grease off his body. He kept a hand on his meat, stroking it to keep it hard. He didn't know when he decided it, but he was going to throat-fuck his son. Maybe in the cellar, while Lance was doing god-knows-what in the barn, most likely beating off his little prick, the thought entered his head that he should wish for his son's happiness. This whole venture had started as a way to teach his son some skills he needed to survive on his own, but Keith knew that wouldn't make the boy happy. The boy was desperate to suck his father's penis, and keeping his own son as a trained throat faggot would be a lot easier than teaching him how to work hard and build his own business.

Lance came into the shower room, obviously coated in his own cum. He started the shower right next to his dad's, not needing any encourage to get closer to his father. Keith noticed his son's cock looked a little bigger. He wondered if those testosterone supplements he was getting him were finally paying off. When he showed his son his penis, the boy's cock immediately began to plump up again. He was jealous of his son's stamina, even with such a little cock.

Lance looked in his dad's eyes, then looked down at the massive erection between them. His dad didn't need to say anything; this was everything he had been jacking off to since he hit puberty. He got down on his knees as his father turned off both their showers.

"Don't let it scare you, son. I'll only choke you with it if you ask me."

Lance licked at the head of his father's penis. Even freshly cleaned he could still taste his father's musk on his tongue. He felt his cock flex again, cumming handsfree as he tasted the penis that made him. His meat surged against his thighs, making him spread his legs to accommodate his growing balls and cock. He looked up at his dad, who smiled back at him.

"Son, I should have told you sooner I looked at your computer."

Lance felt an acrid trickle flow from into his mouth. His dad was pissing down his throat. Lance gripped his cock again. It felt alien in his hand, like he was touching the penis of some beast. He looked down, letting his father's urine cascade down his head. His penis was about eight inches long now, but it no longer was looking like a human penis. His balls were a shiny dark brown, like those of the breeding stallions at the family milking pens. A medial ring was forming halfway up his shaft, a sensitive rubbery feeling thing. His head was blunt and flat.

And he was cumming again. His horse nuts emptied onto the shower floor, covering a quarter of it in a puddle of milky white. Keith was slack-jawed as his son's penis doubled in size. A sixteen inch horse cock erupted from his son's groin, with two massive balls to fuel it. He kneeled down, laying on his side in the sticky puddle of his son's cum. He pulled his boy close, with his cock in his son's face and his son's new equine penis dripping right in front of his own. He tongued at the head, tasting a familiar animal musk. His son took his cue and began reciprocating oral. They were ferocious, each hungry to worship the cock of the other. When Keith had the thought, "I'm sucking my son's penis while he is sucking mine," he finally came. He painted his son's throat, shooting a load down into his gullet. Lance began choking immediately, quickly pulling out the sperm spewing cock out of his mouth.

"Whoa, fuck, dad! Ya gotta warn me!"

He watched as his dad's penis began to flex like his did. In moments his dad's glans flattened out while a medial ring bulged out of his shaft. His balls were already the envy of any animal, but now they were just comical between his thighs--two musky, dark cantaloupes. His whole penis transformed into that of a mottled stallion.

Lance got up from the ground, but his father stayed, sitting on his ass while he kept firmly sucking on his son's penis. A dark feeling pierced through his lusty haze.

"C'mon, gimme a break for a second, lemme get cleaned off."

Lance turned on the shower again, but nothing came out.

A faint sound of calliope music could be heard, coming from somewhere outside the house.

Pink mist began pouring from the showers, flooding the room with musky intoxication.

Lance and Keith did not know where they were until a spotlight show on their stage and the announcer came over the speaker. Lance recognized the deep voice of the genie.

"Come one, come all, to the newest edition to the amazing Colt Family, the most popular attraction at the Omnisexual Carnival!"

Floodlights came on. Lance could not make out anyone beyond the stage, just a faceless crowd. He and his dad were standing, naked, with their obscene horse cocks dripping sexual fluids.

"Welcome our previous headliner, Grandpa Colt!"

Down stage a spotlight illuminated the wretched form of his grandfather, his thin, wiry body lashed down to a dummy mount.

"As you all know, Grandpa Colt wished for the fastest horses in the West, along with a legacy he could passed down to his family! And of course, he wished for his stallions to have the biggest loads in the world!"

An enormous Clydesdale stepped out from back stage, its flared member signaling its intent with his grandfather. Lance's cock came to attention as he heard his grandfather cry out in pleasure as the animal rutted him.

The crowd cheered then fell silent when the genie began announcing the latest act.

"Welcome the father-and-son duo with unlimited sexual stamina! Watch them suck each other off for hours!"

Cheers and applause started as Keith fell to his knees and began to suck his son's penis. The haze of the genie had totally corrupted his mind; he only needed sex now. Lance cried out, but the genie appeared next to him, soothing him.

"Lie down, and suck your father's cock. This is your happiness, remember? This is everything you wished for."

With those final words, Lance forgot everything he was and remembered what he wanted to be. He laid on the stage, stumbling since his father refused to let his penis out of his mouth. Before he could get comfortable, his dad was already shoving his thick horse penis into his face, smearing his musky pre up and down his son's face.

He wandered up and down the midway, looking at all his previous master's he helped. All of them stayed with him in his calliope, forever trapped in their lustful wishes.