Mister Red

Adoption Story

I became aware of the man during our Saturday baseball game. I was on the bench waiting for my turn at bat and I saw the director of the boys' home. He's an imposing man who has a very sour attitude; he also has white hair and his suits look perfectly fitted. But the man next to him was even more imposing. He looked like a mountain in a dark blue suit. This new man had salt and pepper hair and beard. Unlike the director, this large man seemed very friendly and in a good mood looking around at all the boys.

I ignored these men when I went up to bat. I hit a triple and then managed to make it home. It was when I slid into home plate and the crowd roared that I noticed the director and the large man looking right at me. This new man smiled right at me and I half smiled back feeling a little awkward.

It was later in the day after I had already changed out of my baseball uniform that I was called down to the director's office. I was scared. The only reason any boy was called to the director's office was when he did something really bad. But I couldn't think of anything I had done. It never occurred to me that it could be about adoption. I had just had my thirteenth birthday the week before. Everyone knew that people wanted to adopt babies or else really little kids. I had accepted the conventional wisdom that nobody was going to adopt a thirteen-year-old boy.

When I entered the office there was that large man standing up and he was smiling right at me. I looked at the director behind his desk and he didn't seem as sour as usual. The big man introduced himself by his last name and then asked me to tell him about the ballgame we had just played that afternoon. I was confused. He was kind and told me he just wanted to look at me and hear me and that I shouldn't be nervous. What a dumb thing to say? How could I not be nervous?

Then I felt his large hand come to rest on my shoulder. He addressed the director: "This boy is the one. He's everything I want."

The director addressed me all businesslike. He said I would be spending the weekend with the man and if the man liked me he could adopt me but then there would be a one-month trial period. But the big man cut him off. "As far as I'm concerned this boy is my son."

He looked down at me. "Would you like to come home with me and be my son?" I nodded my head eagerly. This was like a dream come true for me.

But then the director had to add in, "If you're not a good boy and you don't mind your new dad, he'll return you to this home."

I knew the stigma of a boy being returned after a trial adoption. It had only happened to a few boys in the years I'd been at the home, but each of them had returned with a black cloud over their heads – they were shunned by everyone at the home and would never be adopted or even considered for a family in the future.

I loudly blurted out "NO!" then suddenly I was scared I'd be in trouble with the director. I looked up shyly at the large man and said, "Please. I'll be a good boy. I'll always mind you and do as I'm told, sir."

Then the big man tossed an envelope filled with money on the director's desk. The director handed the man a folder with my name on it. The man's hand was still on my shoulder and he squeezed me tighter against him and we walked out to the parking lot. His big hand was moving up and down my bare arm. I was just wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. I asked about getting my clothes from the dormitory. He said he would take me shopping the next day. Wow, it was all happening so fast.

The car was big and expensive. But when he opened the door he stopped me getting in. He brushed the butt of my jeans saying they were all dusty. It took him a long time of patting his hands on my butt and thighs, which I didn't understand because these jeans were right out of the laundry. On the ride to his house he asked me to call him "Daddy." I was so happy each time I said that word. I had never had a dad and after my mom overdosed I went to live in the boys' home. By the time I passed ten I had no hope of ever getting out of that home or ever having a daddy of my own.

I asked if there was a mommy at his house. He chuckled and said, "No, it's just us guys there. So you and me can even run around in just our undies." That seemed a funny thing for him to say. I couldn't imagine what a big fat old guy like him would look like in underwear, and even trying to think of it was kinda gross to me.

His house was behind big tall fences and it looked like a mansion to me. He guided me in, his hand on my shoulder again. He quickly showed me the kitchen to one side and offered me a soda. I thanked him and he insisted I stand at the open refrigerator. "I want you to understand that you're my son now. This house is your home. This is your refrigerator so you can help yourself as you like. Of course having sweets too soon before dinner will get daddy angry with you." But even as he said that he had a big smile. I smiled up at him. At that instant I liked him so much.

He guided me out the back door and I saw the swimming pool. Wow. It was the size of the swimming pool at the boys' home and it was way nicer. When I said that I didn't have a swimsuit, he said again how it was "Just us guys" and how the pool was so private he always swam naked. I tried not to giggle thinking of that. All I knew was that as far as I was concerned there was no way I would ever go naked outside.

Then he guided me upstairs to his big bedroom. I think it was the size of one of our dorm rooms where a dozen boys slept. He closed and locked the door, which seemed strange to me. He sat on the edge of the bed and positioned me between his legs. His hands were caressing both my shoulders. Then one hand was caressing my face. He mumbled, "Such nice soft skin." I shuddered. Something seemed weird.

He spoke in a very kind and quiet way. "If you're a good boy and you mind what daddy says, then you'll live here with all this. I've been dreaming about having a little boy just like you. Except you're even cuter than I ever dreamed." He kissed me lightly on the cheek and chuckled nervously. "I've dreamed about going shopping for a new mountain bike, the most expensive in the shop; and to watch my son pick out his own computer and his own game system." He became intense then. "I already have a college fund set aside, son. I'm told you're a very good student. You could go to any college you choose, little buddy. Whereas if you return to the home 3; well, you know that college is not an option for boys from the home."

"No, please sir. I don't wanna go back to the home. No matter what, I'll be a good boy. I'll mind you, sir." I didn't realize then what that promise would mean.

He wrapped his thick hairy arms around me and pulled me against his huge body. He insisted I call him "Daddy" and think of him as my father. I could smell his body and it was kind of sickening. One of his hands was rubbing at the seat of my jeans. I tensed up my buttcheeks and he patted me there. He was planting sloppy kisses all over my face and head and neck.

Then he said, "Time for daddy to examine his new son." His hands went under my t-shirt and he pushed it up over my head. I automatically put my hands over my exposed chest out of modesty but my new dad pushed my hands down to my sides. "Daddy needs to check on his son's development. I need to check how your muscles are developing." That was followed by his thick fingers touching me all over my chest, my shoulders, my arms. He had a half smile and was humming to himself.

The words that came into my head were, "He's feeling me up." But that sounded absurd. I knew that guys tried to feel up girls. But why would an old man want to feel up a young boy? And a young boy he had just adopted as his son. So I took him at his word that he was examining the development of my muscles.

Then he asked me to take off my shoes and socks. I bent over on the spot and he rested his hand on my butt cheeks. I ignored it. I figured that my new dad just liked to pat and touch my butt – no big deal. I would soon learn that there was a lot more to it than just patting my butt.

"OK, son, now drop the jeans." Even though I should've expected that next, it kind of shocked me.

"Do I hafta, daddy?" I remembered to address him the way he wanted. I could feel my boydick chubbing up in my pants. In the locker room or the changing room in the dorm you pulled down your clothes quickly and covered yourself just as quickly. The idea of displaying myself with my new father checking me over got me nervous. And nervousness at that age always included my penis starting to grow.

My white briefs were old, the elastic was coming away from the white fabric which had already turned gray; plus they were too tight on me, I'd had them for nearly two years. Of course I put my hands right in front of my crotch. Daddy smacked my hands lightly and told me to put them behind my head. Behind my head? That seemed way weird but of course I obeyed him. I felt even more exposed like this.

His hands caressed my legs lovingly. But I tried to convince myself he was feeling the muscle development. His fingers went up my inner thigh. Then his thumb made contact with my little balls through the fabric of my briefs and my body pulled away.

His hand pressed against my lower back and held me in place. "Hold on there, little buddy. Don't pull away from your daddy." His hand moved down to my butt. I realized I was wedged between his two powerful tree-trunk like thighs. He turned me to face the side, my hands still up behind my head, his thighs still holding me like a vise-grip. He was gently touching the backs of my thighs and his fingers went into the legbands of my briefs. He was lightly touching the lower part of my buttcheeks and even around my crack.

I was on the verge of protesting when he pushed down on my back so I was over his left leg. He pulled down just the back of my briefs, leaving my penis barely covered in the front. For an instant I thought he was going to spank me, but his fingers were simply moving up and down tickling my crack. Then I felt one of his fingers covered with something slick and gooey. It was pushing against my butthole.

"Please, daddy. No." I whispered without even thinking.

"What happened to that boy who was going to mind his daddy and do as he was told?" He was working his finger into me a little at a time as he spoke. "It just so happens all males have a prostate gland right in here. Daddy needs to check to make sure it's the right size and the right firmness."

He had justified his actions to my young mind and made me feel foolish for protesting. I tried to explain, "Daddy, I didn't mean to say no to you. It was just like an instant reaction and the words just came outa me." He chuckled and assured me I was a good boy. It was hurting bad, but I didn't dare protest again.

Then he proceeded to fingerfuck my butthole – only I didn't understand enough to know that's what he was doing. I'm not sure how many minutes this went on but I just assumed this was the length of time it took for a dad to check on his son's prostate. Even when his second finger entered me, I naively figured this was part of the exam I had to put up with.

But then as his two fingers fucked in and out of my hole I felt a strange sensation in my balls. Suddenly I couldn't hold back. "Oh daddy 3; I'm 3; So 3; Sorry." My penis was gushing liquid right on the fabric of my white briefs and I could tell it was getting on the fabric of daddy's nice pants. I was sure he was going to be angry so I blurted out, "Please, daddy, don't send me back to the boys' home."

But he was chuckling as he slowly pulled his fingers out of my bottom. "Send you back to the home? When you've been such a good boy." I was confused. He helped me to stand up, planting kisses on my face, and of course I wanted to cover my crotch and the mess in my underpants. When he started pulling down my white briefs, I got even more shy. He was very stern as he said, "Hands behind your head, son." So once again I was fully exposed, only this time I was naked and there was cum all over my still-hard penis.

"Daddy's so proud of his big boy." He tickled my erection with two fingers. I did my best not to pull away from his hand. Nobody had ever touched my penis before. I tried to convince myself that this was the way fathers acted with their thirteen-year-old sons. But deep down I knew what had happened was something dirty and shameful.

When daddy stood up I could see the wet mark I had left on the front of his pants. He rubbed it with his finger and then put that finger in his mouth, making a lip-smacking sound. Then he started stripping off his clothes. His big hairy tummy hung over the waistband of his boxer shorts. He made no attempt to try to hide the big tent in the front of his boxers. In fact he kept caressing his penis through the fabric of his boxers. "Y'see, son, this is what happens because you got all hard and excited. Daddy couldn't help but get the same way."

His voice was husky and low. "Have you ever seen a grownup man's big hairy stiff one?" I shook my head no. "It's OK, my little angel, don't be shy. All boys your age are curious to see a big hairy one all hard." He took a step closer to me. When I was about to step away from him, he held up his hand and I stayed where I was. He was standing very close in front of me when he pushed down his boxers.

My daddy's huge cock looked gross to me. He touched himself lightly, not really jerking himself off. I closed my eyes. There was no kidding myself anymore. Most of the boys didn't believe the lecture we got about pervy men. The idea that there were grownup men who would want to take off a boy's clothes and do sex stuff with him sounded too fantastic to us. But here I was standing bare-ass naked, my hands behind my head, displaying myself for a fat old man who was now naked and jerking off as he walked around me.

When he stood in front of me again he gently took my right hand from behind my head. He chuckled trying to lighten the atmosphere and said, "I bet this hand has a lot of experience jerking off." Then he moved my hand down to his erect penis. My whole arm tensed, I wanted to pull my hand away but his hand covered mine and held me in place.

Finally I spoke up. "P-p-please, sir. I'm not 3; I'm not 3;" I couldn't find the right word to say. Finally I spit out, "I'm not g-gay, sir."

He smiled gently and said, "I know that, son. I told the director I only wanted a straight boy, a boy who had never been touched before." His hand was guiding my fingers up and down his thick shaft. "A man like me who lives alone only has the enjoyment of his own hand on his cock. But now that you're here you have hands that are so soft and small. They feel so nice on daddy's big old penis."

He let go of my hand and I continued to stroke his rod up and down. He had somehow explained it in a way that didn't seem so gay – he was tired of using his own hand and I was just helping him out. He said, "Use both hands, son." I brought my other hand to his dick and was masturbating him two-handed. At the same time his hands were moving over my body, touching me everywhere. This time there was no mistaking. My daddy was feeling me up bare naked.

Then he put his hand over mine again and started rubbing real fast. He grabbed me to him so that I thought I would squish against the big man. I felt like all his body hair would leave permanent scars on my smooth flesh. He was grunting like I really thought he was having a heart attack or something. Then his fat penis started to gush all over my hands. His cum was going all over my body so I tried to pull away from him. The result was that a big spurt of cum shot across my face.

But before I could wipe the spunk off my face, daddy was leaning in and licking my face. Eeeuuuuu gross. His beard was all scratchy. But then as if that wasn't gross enough, he kissed me right on the mouth. I think I could taste some of his spunk on my lips. I pulled my head away and grunted, "No. No daddy. No kissing." But he smiled and said, "Yes, boy. Yes, kissing." Then he grabbed me by the back of the head and pressed his lips to mine again. He forced his tongue between my lips as he pressed me hard into his big hairy body.

Then, just as if nothing unusual had happened, he said, "Time for our shower, son."

I followed him into the very large bathroom. There was a shower stall that probably could have fit my whole baseball team. He ushered me into the glass stall first and then he followed. The water felt so good against my body. I closed my eyes and tried to forget about what I'd just done. I tried to forget that my new dad was a boy-loving pervert. I started to figure that if I had to stroke my daddy's big hard thing in order to live in this nice house then it wasn't so bad.

But I opened my eyes when my new dad put a bar of soap in my hand and very casually commanded me to wash him. I had to stretch to get to his face. I got his beard all soapy and then rinsed it. He wanted me to wash very rough under his armpits and he wanted me to spend a long time soaping up his nipples (which were big and stuck out from his chest like two erasers). He said, "I hope you're remembering all these details. Washing daddy in the shower will be one of your responsibilities from now on, precious boy."

I was totally grossed out soaping between his buttcheeks. But then soaping between his legs, behind his balls, was even worse. Of course he had me soap up his penis and his balls. It started to grow but it didn't get fully hard. I ended up down on the tile floor of the fancy shower, washing his feet and between each toe.

I felt so low at that point. But then he grabbed under each arm and lifted me to my feet. Now daddy took the soap and started to wash my smooth body. Of course the slippery feel of the soap all over my body made my penis stiff again. Daddy was down on the floor of the shower now and his soapy fingers were going up and down in my buttcrack. I would soon find out that my slim hips and round buttcheeks were a main reason daddy chose me over all the other boys at the home. He worked on my cock and balls and the slipperiness of his soapy hands was about to bring me to another orgasm when he stopped.

On the floor of the shower facing my small genitals, daddy leaned forward and took it all in his mouth – my cock and both balls. I panicked. I don't know what I thought he was going to do, but I suppose this is an indication of how naive I was.

As soon as his tongue swirled once around my dick, I started to shoot a second load of cum. Daddy was gulping it down. I was wide eyed. He slowly extricated my cock from his mouth and grinned at me. He stood up, turned off the water and wrapped me in a fluffy white towel.

"Y'see that, son, daddy wants to make his boy feel good." I was sleepy by then and all I could think was that he really had made me feel good. It also felt good having the big man wrap me in the fluffy towel and rub it all over me.

He led me to his big bed. I looked up at him. I was going to ask if I didn't have my own room but I knew it was pointless to ask. I got under the blankets and he sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned down. "Daddy likes it when his son feels good. Now give daddy a good night kiss."

He kissed me on the lips, his tongue snaked into my mouth, as he caressed the side of my face. After the kiss he smiled down at me and said, "Tomorrow morning we'll go to pick out your new mountain bike, son."

The next morning my new dad handed me my clothes fresh from the washer and dryer. He seemed to want to act like a dad in the light of a new day. He made eggs for me and apologized for not having any milk. He acted totally normal, just as if nothing had happened the night before.

First we stopped to buy clothes. It was a regular boys' clothing store, nothing fancy. Most of the shoppers were moms, some of them were dragging along reluctant boys. There were a few dads with their sons. My new dad started up a conversation with the dad of a blond boy who looked to be about my age. He asked this blond younger dad which brand of underpants his boy liked. Then he whispered something and I heard "give him enough support but leave room 3;" they laughed together and then my dad said, "you know how they get at this age?" The other dad laughed back and said, "It's not like they take up so much room even when they're at full mast 3;"

This store had small dressing booths with wooden partitions. The other dad invited my dad in with him and his son. The boy was whining. He didn't want to have this strange man see him in his undies. When the door of that booth was closed, I heard the blond dad say, "Stop squirming. The man just wants to see how snug they are in the seat." I wonder what that other dad would think if he knew he was letting a perv feel up his son's ass? When the door opened my dad was inviting the other to come visit and swim in our pool.

Then dad got me into a dressing booth of my own. He ordered me to take off all my clothes and try on the new underpants. But as you'd expect he couldn't keep his hands to himself. When I was in the new undies, he got down and wrapped his mouth around my dick and balls right through the white fabric. He applied suction and before I knew it I was shooting a load, soaking the briefs even as dad sucked the liquid from them.

He had me dress in the new clothes he picked out for me. He fondled my butt and said how nice it looked in the new jeans. Once again when we left the dressing booth he acted as if nothing unusual had happened.

From there he took me to a shoe store, got me two cool pairs of sneakers, a pair of sandals and a pair of fancy black shoes. And after that it was the sports store to pick out a bike. When the salesman cautioned "that's very expensive, sir." My dad snapped back "This is for my son. Money is not an issue." I confess I felt really good when he said that. Considering what my life had been up till the day before, this was quite a change.

We stopped for pizza and he seemed genuinely interested in what I said. He wanted to know what foods I liked, what TV shows, what sports teams, what games.

By then I was thinking of how lucky I was to have a dad like this. Sure, the night before I had rubbed his big penis for him and washed him in the shower. That was kind of icky, but how bad was it really? He had taken my penis in his mouth two times and made me feel incredibly good. How could I complain about that?

When we got back to the house he let me ride the bike all around the back lawns. There was a lot of property that went along with the house. He said it wouldn't be safe to ride on the streets – there weren't any sidewalks in this neighborhood, there were windy narrow roads and all the houses were behind gates. I didn't mind, the feeling of being on the bike was a thrill for me.

He took me inside the house and we both got ice cream. Then he put his arm around my shoulder again and led me upstairs. He started talking about the blond dad and son we had met in the store. "It would be hot to see dad and son get naked at the same time. I bet that little boy would like to see his dad's big hairy boner. And I wonder if daddy has ever had nasty thoughts with that cute little round butt wrapped in those tighty whities." All this time he kept touching the lump in front of his pants and I figured I would have to jerk him off again. At that point I figured I didn't mind so much.

I was soon facing him in his bedroom. He was pulling at my clothes saying, "Now that I'm a respectable dad with a boy of my own, I'm above suspicion. That dimwitted blond not only showed off his boy's tight-fitting briefs, he even let me cop a feel."

When I was down to just my white briefs, he stood in front of me and said, "Now you can undress your dad." I had to reach up to unbutton the top of his shirt. When I peeled the shirt off he told me how to fold it neatly. I caught sight of us in a mirror and it seemed odd " like I was his young boy butler in a uniform of just underpants.

Taking down his pants I tried to avoid the tent in his boxers. But when I got all the way down to remove his socks, his fabric-covered hardon slapped across my face. I pulled away.

Daddy grabbed me up in his arms and tossed me on the bed. Soon his big hairy body was wrapped around mine and he was tongue kissing me once more. As awful as I found this, I suppose I was getting used to it. Then he started licking down my body. When his tongue came in contact with my tender underarms and then with my nipples I squirmed all over the bed. Then my briefs were pulled off and daddy was licking along the insides of my thighs. His mouth moved to my belly button. It was like he was tonguing everywhere near my dick, but not licking the dick itself " like he was trying to make me crazy with lust.

In the midst of my squirming I realized daddy had swung his body around and now his big hulking body was hovering over mine. He brushed his hardon across my face and left a sticky string of precum. I turned my face away and wiped it off. Then his big hand was turning my face back. His other hand was holding his erection and he rubbed it right on my lips.

"Go on, son, give it a kiss for daddy."

I held up my hand to cover my mouth and mumbled. "No, please." He tried again and I blurted, "I'm not a cocksucker."

He paused in total silence. "I like you very much, son. But you know I need a boy who's going to obey and do as daddy says. I don't want to have to bring you back to the boys' home."

I started sobbing. "No, daddy. Please don't take me back there. It's just 3; it's just 3;"

He got off me. I thought maybe I won, maybe he would keep me and not make me do this awful thing. But then again maybe he was about to get dressed to take me back to the boys' home. He mumbled, "Sometimes daddy knows what's best for his boy."

I never expected what came next. Suddenly he was back on top of me, this time with his bulky weight pressing into me. He took both my wrists in one of his big hands; I felt something cold and metallic and the next thing I knew my wrists were attached to the headboard. Before I could even let out an exclamation, I felt him placing something cold and metalic on my ankles.

I was shackled to daddy's bed! I pulled on the cuffs and there was a clanking noise. I looked up at him with wide eyes. His huge body was naked and he was stroking his cock " hovering over me, it looked even bigger than it had the night before.

He literally licked his lips as he said, "Just yesterday I saw a really cute straight boy in his baseball uniform. Now I have you bare naked and chained to the bed, precious boy. All mine to enjoy."

Then he straddled my chest and grasped my head between both hands. "A straight boy can't be to blame for what happens when he's chained down and helpless." With that he pressed his wet cockhead on my lips. I struggled to keep them closed but he smacked my face. In shock I opened my mouth and he thrust in. I gagged just from the taste and the thought of what I was doing.

He looked down at me sternly and snapped, "I better not feel any teeth, boy. Make sure of that."

Odd as it may seem, with his fat penis in my mouth, I struggled to say, "Yessir." He had a crooked smile.

Dad started moving his hips slowly and his erection pistoned in and out of my mouth, but he never pushed it in too far. He kept on caressing my cheek with his fingers and he said, "I don't want to choke you, sweet boy. Just the sight of having your cute face, mouth all stretched to accommodate my boner, is exciting enough."

With that he started to masturbate right into my mouth. He was still rocking his hips gently, but never inserting more than half of his massive hardon between my lips. He seemed to be in a trance, looking down at my distended face, and stroking his fat erection into my mouth. I could already taste quantities of his precum dripping down my throat and forcing me to swallow.

His breathing was getting faster and louder as he grunted, "I know you're a straight boy. And you know I'm your dad. And daddy's gonna 3;" At that his cock pulsed in my mouth. "Feed!" One pulse and a load of cream that I had to swallow or else choke. "My!" Another pulse and another shot of cream. "Straight-Boy!" A big load. "Son!" The length of his cock slipped down into my throat and I swallowed as fast as I could while the rest of his spunk went straight down. I couldn't breathe because his sweaty balls were on my nose. "Feeding my straight-boy son."

The rest of the day went on. I went in naked to the big swimming pool and laughed when I thought that just one day earlier I believed I would never swim naked. Daddy sucked me off once by the pool and another time when we went to bed. Apparently, he expected me to sleep in his bed.

The next morning I only found a clean pair of white underpants. Dad didn't see why I needed more clothes than that. I argued but not for long. He gave me socks and sneakers to keep my feet safe. Dressed that way, I spent a long time exploring our property on my bike, then I hiked through the trees on what was still our land. How funny, my third day and I had already started thinking of it as 'our' land.

I guess the biggest change on that day happened before dinner. Daddy was up in his study doing work. He said he had been watching me out the window. He looked me up and down hungrily as he rubbed the front of his pants. He pointed to a spot between his legs. I got down there. I opened his pants and reached into his boxers to release his big penis.

I studied his hardon. I still found it unappealing. I still knew I was straight. But I opened my mouth and took the mushroom head between my lips. I closed my eyes and sucked on it. Daddy spread his legs and leaned back in his chair. I used my hand to jerk off the base of his cock while my lips and tongue worked on the top half. But daddy pushed down on the back of my head. I gagged but then gulped and found I was able to handle more than I thought.

I got up a steady rhythm. His hips were bucking up in his chair. Then he suddenly pushed down on the back of my head and held me firmly in place as his cock spewed gobs of thick cream down my throat. I swallowed but a lot of it dripped down my chin.

As soon as I slid my lips off his penis, he grabbed my face in his hands and pulled me up to him so he could kiss me on the lips. I could tell he was sucking his own cum off my tongue. His hands, as always, were moving over my nearly naked body.

In my head I kept on repeating, "I'm still a straight boy. I'm still a straight boy."

It took another two weeks for the next step in this process. It was a quiet evening. I'd been in the swimming pool after supper and was just dressed in white briefs, the way daddy liked me. He was walking around in his boxers, as casual as I was.

He brought me a bowl of ice cream with all the toppings – it had chocolate sauce and crushed nuts and funny-tasting cherries – so many flavors it tasted strange. Not long after that I started to feel kind of sleepy. Well, not exactly sleepy; maybe dizzy is a better word.

Daddy helped me to stand up but instead of taking me up to our bedroom, he took me down into the basement. I had never been down there. We entered a small room that had a wood and metal frame, a leather-covered table, and what looked like a black-leather-covered dentist's chair.

He laid me down on the leather table. I didn't like this room. I wanted to get up but I didn't seem to have the strength. I tried to protest but my words were slurred.

"Relax, precious boy," daddy said in his softest voice as he attached metal cuffs to my wrists above my head. "I told you daddy knows what's best." He smiled in a way that seemed kind, then he lifted each of my ankles and cuffed them over my head to the same bar that held my wrists. My legs were spread as wide as they would go.

He must have seen the confused look on my face. He continued talking in a soft, quiet voice, the kind of voice grown ups use to calm kids. He said, "There's one thing I want from you more than anything else. And the odds were good you would fight me off, maybe even get nasty about it. Eventually I would get to 3; oh, son, trust me, I just didn't want any nastiness or recriminations. I only gave you a mild sedative to calm you. I want you awake for this."

With that he got down between my legs at the end of the table and started kissing my hairless butt cheeks. His beard felt strangely scratchy there. Then his tongue was along my crack. And then I felt his tongue push into my butthole. I gasped. I couldn't form words. I had a strange tingly feeling going all throughout my body.

It must have been the sedative he gave me that was making my mind run slow. It should've been obvious what he was preparing for. But it was only when he stood up and pressed his greased-up penis against my virgin hole that I put it all together.

I managed to groan out, "Noooooo daddyyyyy" as he plunged into me. Then instead of one long yell, I was moaning "Ow ow ow ow owwww." He came to rest with his big hairy tummy pressing into my balls and the backs of my thighs. His swinging hairy balls were resting on my round butt cheeks.

He was crooning to me softly as he slowly began fucking me. It was sort of hypnotic (tho I'm certain the sedative had a lot to do with my reaction). He was rocking his body on top of me, barely moving his erection in and out of bottom.

I wasn't aware of when the change happened, but he was soon fucking me – pulling out and slamming in – over and over. He was dripping sweat on my body, touching me and licking me all over. I lost track of time till he slammed into me hardest of all, his cock growing thicker than before, and he was spewing hot cream deep inside me. There was so much cream it was dripping out of me.

By the following week, daddy didn't have to chain me down or use a sedative to have his fun. For the first time in my life I was living the good life in a large elegant house with all the games and sports equipment and any other treats I could think of. In return I knew daddy expected me to take care of his frequent erections.

I never stopped being straight. I just thought of it as a business deal.

The End