Jarod's journey with his therapist/daddy Richard takes a kinky turn. Thanks for hanging in with me on this story. I'd enjoy your feedback, good or not-so-good. I can be reached at psorenson9@hotmail.com.
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Chapter 8
Again, without words, his eyes asked me, "Are you ok?"
"More than ok, Daddy," I replied. He removed his grip on my hands and lowered himself onto me so we were now torso-to-torso, sticky and sweaty. He lowered his face to mine and our lips met with a tender post-coital kiss. We couldn't kiss hard or long enough. But finally, Richard suggested we get cleaned up so we can go to bed properly and get some sleep. Just as we were getting out of bed, he reached to his bedside table and pulled out something that looked suspiciously like a butt plug. He saw the concern on my face and sat back down next to me. He took my hands and said earnestly, "I want you to do one thing for me...I want you to wear this plug, just for tonight. When we sleep together tonight, I want you to be reminded of what happened here tonight and that my seed is still inside you. I promise you can remove it first thing in the morning. Tomorrow, we'll take the next step on your journey. Together."
His words were ringing in my ears, "Tomorrow, we'll take the next step on your journey. Together."
I'd never worn (is worn even the right word?) a butt plug so the feeling was strange, although not entirely uncomfortable. It was just the right size so that it stayed intact without stretching my hole too much and, importantly, didn't allow Richard's seed to escape. We showered together and tenderly sponged each other off, paying close attention to our tired cocks. When he sponged my hole, he was careful not to dislodge the plug or cause me any pain. Now exhausted, we dried each other and crawled into bed where he spooned me with a strong bearhug. With his thick arms around me, his hairy chest caressing my back and his semi-rigid cock pressed against my protected hole, I felt completely at peace. I wanted to stay awake all night to savor the feeling, but I lost the battle, as the next thing I remember was slowly waking with that strange, yet comforting sensation of a butt plug up my ass. I quickly realized that Richard, who was still in the position we fell asleep in, was now bent over my head and quietly gazing at me. I wasn't startled, just delighted to find him so pleased he was waking up next to me. Seeing I had awoken, he began to gently caress my arms, chest, shoulder and kissed my ear, neck and cheek. His hand slowly moved down my nude body, up and down my leg, my inner thigh and then he carefully, but firmly encircled my cock with his hand and slowly began to stroke. Since I was still plugged, his hard cock couldn't penetrate my hole, but there was no question what he wanted. And he wasn't alone. I was just as hard as he was. He picked up the pace of his caressing, but finally admitted with a smile, "We both need to pee and we need to get that plug out of you. Let's head to the bathroom so we can get back to bed!" In a flash we both hopped out of bed into the bathroom where I sat on the toilet and let the remnants of the night before out of my system. While it was a relief to remove the plug, in a strange way I regretted losing its sensation given it was a constant reminder of what had resided there earlier, Richard's cock and seed. We both took a nice long pee, (he was so hard I had to help aim his cock when he urinated), did a quick tooth brushing and were back in bed in record time.
He rolled on top of me, where I hoped and expected he would mount me again, just like last night. But Richard had other ideas. Straddling me, with his cock laying on my chest, he asked rather abruptly, "Remember last night when you came without either of us touching your cock?"
"Yes Daddy, that's never happened to me before. I didn't even know it was a thing." I light-heartedly replied.
He smiled initially at my joke, but then suddenly turned stern, "The first time I made you cum, I decided when you would cum. I edged you until I was ready for you to cum. I decided."
"Yes sir", I replied, somewhat confused.
"And when you left that evening, I ordered you not to cum until we saw each other again. And from the volume of cum you blasted last night, I know you obeyed. Am I correct?"
"Yes sir", I replied again, with increasing concern.
"But last night, you came without my permission." He paused and must have noted my uneasiness. "Look, I understand that last night was special. It was special for me as well. But as part of your journey, you need to agree that only I decide when and where you sexually release. Is that clear Jarod?"
My intimal reaction was WTF, but at the same time the authority he was exerting over me was intoxicating. It made me want him more. This dynamic wasn't anything I had ever contemplated, but when presented with it as I was now, it was a huge fucking turn on. I realized how much I wanted to please him, and if submitting to his dominance would please him, I was all in. "Of course, sir. I completely understand."
"And...?" Richard asked.
Not exactly sure what answer he was looking for, I ventured, "And I promise not to cum anywhere, anytime without your express permission", I guessed right, because at that moment, he leaned down and kissed me tenderly. That kiss evolved into a passionate, sweaty, cock-grinding kiss make out session, which, like everything else, I didn't want to stop. But Richard was in control, not me. So I shouldn't have been surprised when he abruptly pulled away from our embrace, rolled on his back and lovingly, but somewhat roughly, grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down to his groin. I could tell he was smiling when he said, "Get going boy, you have work to do", and pushed my willing face directly onto his now engorged cock.
Being under the covers, between my daddy's legs, salivating over his cock made me feel like a whore, in the best possible way. My submission was exhilarating. I couldn't wrap my mouth around his dripping cock deep enough. I became a man who hadn't eaten in weeks and Richard's cock was the only nourishment available. I worshipped it, longed for it. I honored it. I fed on it. I was so hungry my gag reflex nearly disappeared as I rammed his cock further down my throat than I ever knew possible.
Richard's response was equally ravenous. He moaned, he cried, he whelped, he bucked his hips, he ordered me to stop. He ordered me to never stop. He ordered me to lick his hole. He ordered me to lick his balls. We both were insatiable. And even though I was the sub in this scenario, I knew I was momentarily in control of his orgasm, and I wanted this to last. So I pulled off him and slid back up so we were face to face.
Putting both hands on each side of my face, nearly with tears in his eyes, he said, "Oh my boy, you are fucking out of this world. Why did you stop? I tell you when to stop. I was about to unload on that beautiful face of yours."
I had the courage to reply, "I know Richard, and forgive me for asking, but I want us to suck each other together. I want us to 69. And I want us both to take a hit of poppers when we do. Can we, Daddy, please?" I pleaded.
"Fuck yeah, boy" he smiled and ruffled my hair in a fatherly way.
I didn't know it, but he had a fresh bottle at his bedside which he reached for. He carefully opened it and offered it to me. We each took two long hits before we laid on our sides, mouths-to-cocks and lovingly began to lick each other's cocks and balls. Fortunately, both of our cocks bent forward enough so the 69-ing wasn't uncomfortable. The poppers sent us into a heightened state where our cocks, and our cocks alone, became each other's world. Everything else disappeared. We sucked and slurped with alternating lust and tenderness, but always on the same wavelength.
After what may have been the most blissful period of my life, our mutual orgasm was in sight, but not quite imminent. Unexpectedly, he pulled away and said, "That's enough. You'll finish me off, but as punishment for cumming last night without my permission, you'll have to wait. I have plans for you for later tonight, but as for now, you're having breakfast in bed."
I was so fucking close to cumming I didn't quite know what to make of it. My balls ached they were so full. But when my hormones gave way to sanity, I realized this was part of my training....learning to submit. And I still had Richard's wonderfully veiny cock to feast on, which I relished. Sensing my disappointment, Richard added, "But if you'd like another hit while you finish me off...", and offered me the bottle of poppers. I was more than happy to take two more long hits, which made the finale of the morning session even more exquisite. As horny as I was, I was equally satisfied just concentrating on nothing but getting this hunk of a man to explode in my mouth. Poppers take you to a wonderfully strange place, and I was totally getting off on worshiping this man's cock. It was me, and only me who got to savor and swallow his creamy load. That thought took me to an even higher level of passion and when I got him to his point of no return, he erupted with a force that, after last night, amazed me. His orgasm was epic, and I was the one, the one, who was the recipient of it. There was no question in my mind that even though he didn't allow me to cum, I enjoyed it as much as he did.
Continuing the precedent we had established in our short time together, after he collected himself, he smiled, "I hope you saved some for me". I knew exactly what he meant so I slid up to him and kissed him with a mouthful of his cum. We lovingly sloshed it around our mouths, passing it back and forth until we both gave up and swallowed his load.
I needed a nap after this exertion, but it was Saturday morning, and Richard jumped out of bed and announced, "Let's go young man, I have a big day planned for you".
Richard had a script for the day in which I happily played a leading role. Casual quick breakfast, some shopping in which he insisted he buy me some clothes for that night when he'd take me to his favorite club and, lastly, a gay novelty shop in his neighborhood that included, among other things, a wide variety of leather gear. He noticed the quizzical look on my face when we stepped into the leather section and asked, "Ever done this?"
"Not really", I responded, but added, "not that I wouldn't be interested. I just never had the opportunity."
"You'll need it for tonight", he replied nonchalantly.
He knew the guys at the leather store and knew exactly what he wanted for me that night. He spoke to them privately and they assembled several items that he agreed were "just right" for me that evening. I didn't see them but when packaged and presented to Richard, he simply looked at me and said, "You'll like these, I promise." I was curious, maybe even suspicious, but Richard had done nothing to betray my trust, so I was all in. `Bring it on' I thought to myself.
The two of us had spent a delightful day together eating, shopping, and getting to know each other. The time I spent with him outside his loft that day was every bit as enjoyable and uplifting as the intimate times we had spent together inside it. At every turn, he inspired me with his sophistication and mentorship, and he was equally taken with my youthfulness and world view. We were proving to be a good match.
Upon arriving home, although we were exhausted, he shared the plan for that evening. Quiet, not fancy dinner at home, out to a club to meet a few of his buddies, and then back to his place for the next step in my journey to heal.
He had never given me reason to distrust him so I amiably complied with the plan for the evening. After a lovely, low key dinner with a few glasses of wine to warm us both up, Richard said, "Ok sport, time to get ready to meet my friends. I'm looking forward to seeing you in your new gear. I have it waiting for you on my bed."
"Yes, Daddy," I complied, only having a vague idea of what I'd find there. Laid out on his bed was my gear for the evening: black leather jockstrap with a removeable pouch, work boots, leather choker, and finally a leather harness with a strap that dropped from the harness to a cock ring at the end which, when worn, disappeared under my jock. And, finally, a pair of tight jeans. Seeing the look on my face, Richard pulled me into him and walked me through each item and reassured me he wasn't taking me to some kinky dungeon where I'd be held hostage, just that it was leather night at the bar where he was meeting his friends, and he wanted me to feel comfortable. "I'm proud of you, Jarod. I want my buddies to see who I've been talking about these past few weeks so they can meet you. The real fun will start when we get back", he said mischievously.
Once again, he reassured me this all was a necessary step on my journey. "Let's do it, Daddy", I smiled.
Richard could transform from lover to therapist in an instant. Now he magically transformed into concerned father as he helped me dress in this unfamiliar gear. Of key importance was making sure I got the cock ring on while I was still soft. Seeing all that leather gear made it difficult to not get hard, but I finally got it around my cock. Then I put on the jockstrap, and he immediately cupped my leather-covered package and told me how sexy I looked with the cock strap dropping from my harness down to my jock. "We all know what that strap is holding up," he said, referring the now hidden cock ring. He saved the leather choker for last and, was almost ceremonial about latching it in the back of my neck. "I own you when you're wearing this." Nothing else needed to be said.
He quickly changed himself into jeans, boots, a similar leather harness and a leather armband around his right bicep. I didn't need to know leather and hanky code to know what his right bicep meant; he had made that abundantly clear last night. Fuck, did he look hot. For having virtually no experience in the leather scene, I could feel my dick rapidly hardening inside my leather jock. Thank god the pouch was removeable; if I kept going at this pace it might just pop off.
Richard grabbed me by the leather strap that connected the harness to my balls and said, "Let's go stud. And remember, I own you."
It was a short ride to the bar where we'd meet his friends, The Ramrod (the name came as no surprise to me). His hand was clasped to the collar in the back of my head as we walked in, clearly signaling ownership and said, "Remember, short evening here. I just want my friends to get a good look at you. I'll tell you more about that in coming days." I should've been more curious about what that meant but having just entered the dark bar crowded with so many leather clad (and barely clad) hot men, I was distracted, to say the least. Many older, in various shapes and sizes and most of them incredibly hot. The smell of beer, leather, cigar smoke and the faint undertone of what smelled suspiciously like cum was intoxicating. My senses were assaulted in the best possible way. I could feel myself getting harder by the second and was thankful the leather jock, while pressing uncomfortably against my erection, at least concealed it.
We walked through the long bar and, not seeing them, Richard remarked, "They're probably out on the deck" and led me out the door to an elevated deck which was less crowded. "Hey, you assholes," Richard greeted them and gave them each a big hug. I stood back and couldn't help but check each one out closely. Before I could make a real assessment, Richard grabbed me by the leather strap running down my torso and pulled me over to them saying, "Here he is gentlemen. This is young Jarod. I was right, wasn't I?" he asked. I could only assume that was a compliment, so I went with it and brought my hand up to greet them each with a handshake. There were three sets of eyeballs intensely scrutinizing me and their reaction ranged from curiosity to intrigue to lust (or was that my imagination?). "Fuck yeah Daddy," one of them remarked. A second one, caressing my naked (but thankfully muscled) chest under my harness said, "Now that's one smooooooth young lad." The last one finally added "He'll do just fine Richard, just fine." WTF were they talking about? Before I could contemplate the innuendo, I was getting an eyeful of what a sexy trio of men they were. Each in the expected leather/jeans uniform and all insanely hot, each in their own way. Richard introduced me first to Steve, an exceptionally tall, magnificently muscled, astonishingly beautiful black man. Early 50s, think Idris Elba, but gay, rough, and even more muscled. He wore tight jeans and was shirtless. I don't know if he was sweating or he had intentionally oiled himself, but the muscles in his arms and torso glistened in the moonlight. And just like Richard, broad shoulders, narrow waist, with huge veins protruding down each bicep. I tried my best, but I couldn't resist looking down. I was embarrassed that I so obviously was checking him out, and I wasn't disappointed. He had a bulge in his jeans that he was clearly proud of and had every right to be. Standing next to Steve, Richard then introduced me to "Little Marco". Presumably he was "little" because at about 5'9", he was dwarfed by his friends. I learned Marco, who looked late 40s was a former rugby player which explained his thick legs and incredibly muscled ass. His Italian heritage explained the rest...thick, black curly hair, 5 o'clock shadow which was either styled to look like that or he just needed a shave. Either way it was hot. And chest, arms and legs covered in curly black hair. He was even more charming than Steve and when he greeted me I couldn't help but think of Mark Ruffalo, but a lot beefier. It was hard to take my eyes off him because, like Steve he was shirtless, but he was wearing a leather jockstrap and chaps. Just as I noticed that, Richard laughed, "C'mon Marco, turn around and show Jarod that sweet ass of yours." Marco happily turned around to reveal he was, indeed wearing assless chaps and a jock strap which beautifully framed his ass to everyone in the bar. Lastly, Richard introduced Beast, whose name accurately captured his physical presence. 6'2"ish, probably 275 pounds of muscle. Not body building muscle, but that big, round solid muscle. Grey buzz cut, short trimmed grey beard, and wearing a black leather biker cap, he looked like he was about Richard's age, late 50s. He had a burning cigar gripped in his teeth which he removed with one of his bear-like hairy hands and extended the other to greet me. Like the others he was shirtless, and I saw that both nipples were pierced with what appeared to be circular barbells. His appearance signaled that he was rough, almost scary, but he pulled me into him with a warm bear hug and whispered, "Keep doing whatever you're doing young Jarod. I've never seen Richard happier." Then he cupped my ass and pressed his middle finger through my jeans into my hole and added, "And I'd love a piece of that too, boy." He gave me one more squeeze before letting me go and gave me a wink as I released. He reminded me of a kinky Santa Clause.
Richard left to get a round of beers so I was on my own with his friends. They worked hard to make me comfortable. Maybe too hard? Was I imagining they were coming on to me? At one point Steve asked if Richard liked to "share". Little Marco kept telling me how he loves to go assless at places like this, saying suggestively, "Fresh air on my hole is one of my many turn-ons. But fresh air isn't the only thing I like touching my hole". After Beast's comment earlier, was there some nefarious reason I was meeting these guys?
About then Richard arrived with the beers and the conversation lightened up to more generic topics, but I couldn't help but feel that, although we hadn't been there long, Richard was antsy to get going. I had mixed feelings. On one hand, the vibe at the leather bar was hot and I enjoyed getting to experience it. But on the other, Richard had made insinuations that what he had in store for me that night was even hotter than the previous nights. The very thought of what may happen made me hard.
In no time Richard gulped the rest of his beer, pulled me into him and gave me a passionate open-mouth kiss on the lips. "Eat your hearts out men" he chided Steve, Marco and Beast. "Jarod and I have business to attend to". Then, he turned to me, grabbed the back of my collar and ordered, "Let's go, boy."
Although the drive home was short, it seemed to drag on forever. I just wanted to be nude, on my back, legs spread, my Daddy fucking me. Hard. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him that night. And I learned quickly that what he was planning would make a rough fuck look like a peck on the cheek.
We said little on the car ride home, but when we finally arrived, he stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Jarod, tonight we're taking the next step. And it's significant. Tonight you learn that you can turn the pain your father inflicted on you into pleasure. It won't be easy, but I believe you will not only endure it, but it will expand your horizons and you will be a better man because of it."
Not knowing what to expect, I was at a loss for words. Richard spoke again, "I'll go slow, I promise. And I will stop anytime you say the word. The word you will say to have me stop is `red'. If you say that word, I stop. No questions asked. Are you ready to go forward?"
Breathless, I choked out the words, "Yes, sir."
"Good, son. See that door over there" he motioned to his head the door in the wall I'd noticed earlier that seemed odd in this otherwise open-plan loft.
"Yes sir," I answered more as a question, than in the affirmative.
"Behind that door is the next step in your journey."
End of Chapter 8