Cody Enters My life By John johnthomassandiego@yahoo.com
This series of completely fictional work could be categorized in either the Gay Male Authoritarian section, or the Adult Youth Section of the Nifty Archives. You must be of legal age where you reside in order to view this. If you are offended by material pertaining to the humiliation, spanking, punishment, or sexual abuse of adult males do not read this. If you are offended by material pertaining to sexual relationships between an adult male and a teen boy, then do not read it either.
In order to understand the story, you must first understand me. I am named John, and am 26 years old. I was always viewed as a wunderkin by my parents, sister, and others, especially my grandfather. My parents were religious zealots. Both physicians, they dragged my little sister and I around the world from one backwater country to the next as they provided medical care in an effort to convert the locals. Further, they raised us to feel guilty about everything, and were strong believers in not sparing the rod. I never bought their bullshit, but my little sister did. Fortunately, at 12 I was sent off to boarding school at a New England preparatory academy, paid for by my grandfather who was a devout atheist and highly successful man. When I was 13, my parents and sister were killed by the same people they were ?ministering? to. My grandfather and grandmother were now my only living relatives.
Having been home schooled growing up, I actually entered the 10th grade at age 12, and by 15 had graduated valedictorian from one of the Ivy League feeder schools. From there, it was an Ivy League college which I finished in 3 years. It was quite difficult to be a 15 year old college student, and I compensated in a few ways, including following in my grandfather?s footsteps by training as a boxer, then later in mixed martial arts. By the time I graduated college I was certainly a ?gym rat?, at 6-0, 185 lbs of solid muscle, and sported a solid 8 plus cut dick, that was at least 6 inches around. None the less, I looked pretty young for 18 as I was blond and did not have a great deal of body hair.
I attended Medical School at 18, finished at 22, then went off to my Emergency Medicine Residency.
To digress, it was in later college and medical school that I finally started exploring my sexuality. As a fifteen year old college freshman, everyone treated me like their little brother. But by my sophomore year, working out hard, people started to notice me, both guys and girls. Given my fundamentalist upbringing, I assumed I was straight and had a series of brief relationships, well fuck buddies really, who were female. I enjoyed it, but increasingly I realized that my real attraction was toward other guys.
I was terribly guilt stricken about this, and reserved my male sexual activities to the internet and my hand. By 18, I was ready to try things out with other guys, but certainly not ready to pursue the perverted interests which seemed to increasingly predominate in my internet life.
As a ?wunderkin?, I was accepted to an Ivy League Medical school at 18, and graduated at 22. During those years, I explored my sexuality further. I probably messed around with 6 guys, all of whom wanted me to top given my dick size and appearance. It was fun, but not what I fantasized about. I fantasized about being punished. Punished for being a fag, humiliated by men in all kinds of gross ways, tortured, and used by groups of men. However, I kept this to myself.
Holidays and weekends in college and Medical School were spent by my grandfather, who was an extraordinary man by any measure. He served in Vietnam in Special Forces, having repeatedly volunteered and ultimately spending 20 years in the Service, retiring as a Colonel. Additionally, he had done well financially, though I never really knew how well. He spent most of his time at his ?hunting property?, which was several thousand wooded acres, complete with private lakes, in rural New England. There was an air strip so he could fly out when his business required it, but mostly he spent his time in a 5,000 foot ?lodge? that was 10 miles up a private gravel road, and well protected.
As an ex special forces man, he chose to employ other such men to provide security and prevent poaching on his land. In total, there were 24 security employees, all ex Seals or Marine Recon. Each worked 3 weeks on, then 1 week off. There was a large dormitory facility for them about 5 miles from the main lodge, and they were managed by Sergeant Kowalski, who had served with my grandfather and was fiercely loyal to him.
My grandfather was an atheist, and was a hypermasculine hunter, fisherman, and all around tough guy. It was he who guided me toward boxing and reveled in my mixed martial arts accomplishments. As he only graduated High School, he was really proud of his grandson the Doctor, and doted on me.
It was my grandfather who taught me to love fishing, hunting, working out, and fighting. Together, we hiked and explored all of the property surrounding the Lodge.
When I was 22, during my first year of Residency, my grandmother died. My grandfather was pretty devastated, fell into a depression, and lost a lot of weight. I drove the 5 hours to his lodge whenever I had a few days to spend time with him, but he did not look well.
I finished my residency in July of my 25th year, now a fully trained Emergency Medicine Physician. My grandfather, looking thin and frail, asked me to come spend some time with him.
It didn?t take long before he told me the truth: he was in the later stages of Colon Cancer, and expected to die by Christmas. I chose to stay with him, and care for him as his personal physician and nurse, until he died on January 2nd. By the end, it was time for him to go as I spent the last month carrying him on and off the toilet, medicating him for his severe pain, and operating what was basically a one person hospital at the Lodge.
Toward the end, my grandfather gave me hints of several things. First, he made sure I knew that many of the men working as security had left the Special Forces prematurely under the ?don?t ask don?t tell? policy. Second, he had noticed my relative lack interest in females, and noticed that I seemed more attuned to other men. He made it clear that this was no problem for him. Finally, he told me that I would be the new patriarch of his empire, but I had no idea what that empire consisted of.
The funeral was on January 5th, and had already been set up. There were full military honors, and he was buried overlooking one of the lakes at a favorite spot of his. In attendance were at least 200 people, many of whom flew in to the airstrip, and none of whom I knew. They all kept telling me what a great man my grandfather was, and that they were ?at my service?.
On January 7th, I got a call from a man named Mr. Harrison. He said he was the executor of my grandfather?s will, and wished to call on me the next day. I told him that was fine.
On January 8, Mr. Harrison and a team of accountants arrived at the Lodge by plane. I brought them into the conference room that my grandfather had maintained. They set up a powerpoint projector, and then proceeded to show a video recorded by my grandfather for me, then a 45 minute powerpoint addressing the assets left to me.
The bottom line was this: My grandfather was worth almost 1 Billion dollars. Anticipating his death, he had set up 4 teams of investors, independent from one another, each to manage 200 Million of assets. Overseeing this was a large Firm specializing in Trust and estates. The final 200 million was in an annuity that was secured and would pay me far more than I could ever spend on an annual basis. I was shocked by all of this, and did not know what to say as the team flew out after the meeting.
Not knowing what to do, I did what my grandfather would have done. I packed a backpack, took my rifle and went to one of the outlying cabins on my land. I told Sergeant Kowalski where I would be, knowing that he would look after things.