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Sins Of The Father
Chapter 1 - Just Another Ordinary Evening After Work
PJ Franklin <email@example.com>
Prologue – Just Another Ordinary Bastard
One night while at an extravagant dinner party, a very promiscuous and wealthy American businessman, Vincent Oliver, fucked a gorgeous and equally promiscuous employee of his, a middle manager by the name of Yolanda Brinkerson. Nine months later Yolanda birthed a male child into what had already become an increasingly financially corrupt and legally dystopic world. The child was dubbed Kasey, Kasey Brinkerson.
Consequent that new mother Ms. Brinkerson was beautiful and would also make the perfect trophy wife, Mr. Oliver offered Ms. Brinkerson his hand in marriage. Vincent even fully lent his last name to the boy thus legitimizing Kasey's otherwise bastard beginnings so that Kasey Brinkerson was now Kasey Oliver, but the taint on Kasey's awkward beginning might never entirely dissipate.
For one thing such a marriage born from a one night stand is never meant to last and as the marriage seemed headed for dissolution hardly a year later, Vincent even doubted Kasey's true parentage as both he and Yolanda were notorious for having slept around both before as well as were sleeping around after their nuptials.
Kasey's true biological father could technically have been determined by DNA testing had Vincent demanded it. Vince after all was not true father material and he knew it and so did Yolanda.
DNA testing would accomplish nothing, however, because Yolanda might try and force legal adoption into the picture if need be not to mention that accepting the child as his own bought Vincent a variety of facades and useful trappings as well as Yolanda's silence on a variety of other issues that could cause Vince a ton of unwanted trouble in business. Silence and inaction on the issue regarding Kasey was worth something to Vince on many levels, so he let it slide.
For another Kasey grew up with a variety of nannies and tutors and when older, was sent to expensive all-male boarding schools for the rich. Parenting by proxy if you will and if you think that Kasey's peers did not know of his tainted heritage, think again.
Nonetheless, Kasey seemed largely spared society's otherwise deepening world-wide dystopic changes save one. Kasey's as well as other exclusive American boarding schools had along with all of its public counterparts capitulated to the new world-wide demand and resurgence of the institution of corporal punishment. This was true both educationally as well as judicially and dubbed a return to good old-fashioned conservative values, family and otherwise.
Now even the offspring of the rich were once again subjected within their lofty institutions of higher learning to whichever implement, singular, or more likely implements, plural, that were deemed by geography to be traditional methods of corporally applied discipline. On one side of the ocean, cane, tawse and slipper ruled boys' bared bottoms given over the back of a chair or with some other suitable piece of furniture as they once had in decades and centuries past and on the other side of the watery expanse, paddle, strap and switch were delivered in a similar fashion.
Simple spankings with the hand were a given no matter what country or continent on either side of the ocean. Over-the-knee hand spankings were especially a most humiliating way for the especially older boys to suffer and suffer they did and especially so in England and other similar countries that allowed for boys to discipline other boys within a typical head boy and prefect system.
American schools did not often allow for older boys to be appointed as prefects much less with punishment privileges of their peers, but some did. Kasey Oliver paced the hallway outside of Chaz Harper's dorm room, wincing every time he heard the pained yelps from what Kasey knew was Harper's paddle murdering the boy's bared backside.
Oh yes, always bare, never with any protection. Not a stitch. That was Chaz's way, wasn't it? The sadist. But what else could the now sixteen-year-old Kasey do but eventually take his punishment any way that the head boy demanded? Kasey had been caught red-handed along with the others, the prank discovered before it hardly had got off the ground. Somebody had ratted them out, but whoever it was would likely remain anonymous and wasn't that also the way now-a-days?
Where was the honor demanded by his school hand-book? That now useless document was written back in the day when the gap between the haves and the have-nots was tolerable. Back at a time when one could afford honor. Now there only remained compromise and capitulation which really just was manipulation and cruelty, most of it ironically self-imposed or at least that is how Kasey viewed what had become of intolerable financial need world-wide.
I mean, who would voluntarily contract their body, their life into slavery to another? Most of it sexual slavery. Yes, it often did more than pay the bills of the family left behind and meant to benefit or to build an otherwise impossible future for a young, attractive person in his or her prime and without any other prospects.
Yes, there were laws and rules now; but even the judicial system had taken advantage and congratulated themselves as did society for saving money on expensive penal institutions. Why spend the public's tax money when private persons could buy a felon's life as a slave in exchange for imprisonment or other arduous judicial sentences.
Finally, the door opened as the red and wet face of the punished boy cast down and did not look at Kasey as he swept by him. The boy's hands clutched hard at his burnt bottom, lips chewing trying to calm himself down from his royal butt beating.
Kasey's heart started to pound as he watched the guy disappear around the corner. This would be the third time this month alone for Kasey. Chaz hated him or so Kasey rationalized. The truth was very different, however.
Kasey finally walked through the door closing it behind himself and then just stood there as Chaz stood rather casually, one hand on the chair that he would soon sit, "So, here we are again, Mr. Oliver. Third time this month. I wonder when it all will ever end, don't you?" Chaz smirked or rather leered at his very attractive prey, allowing his tented trousers to conspicuously jut forward and making sure that Kasey's eyes saw it. Saw him.
Oh, Oliver would never voluntarily admit hardly even to himself the very obvious fact that Chaz dearly wished to bend Kasey Oliver over the back of the chair and fuck him. Better yet, bed the sixteen-year-old like with a lover and if not a lover, a captive or the pinnacle, as personal sexual valet or slave. Like Chaz's father had or his uncle their bought human sex toys.
Imagine. Kasey Oliver, the bastard child of Vincent Oliver, being forced by now legal if not voluntary circumstances to be Chaz's own personal sexual boy toy, but alas, "You know the drill, get to it, Oliver," Chaz said and then sat in the chair and then watched the boy carefully as Kasey's face reddened.
At least the blush meant that he felt something. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Chaz always wished that as Kasey's dark colored boxer shorts lowered that a full-on erection would pop out and not a limp penis. That was no fun or maybe it was.
Maybe Chaz simply needed to enjoy the fact that Kasey hated this. Hated being spanked like a thirteen or fourteen-year-old wet-behind-the-ears freshman. Spanked as his side was being humped by Chaz's erection. Maybe … a compromise this third go around?
Kasey bit his lips as he walked his nakedness forward. He wanted to strangle Chaz. Kill him, even. Yea. No more capital punishment on the planet. Of all the things that were now no longer forbidden, you could not execute a human for even a capital crime, not the government anyway.
Men still died in some places on the planet, but not at the hands of a government rather their owners, the laws forbidding such outcomes between slaves and their owners very murky, very liberal and siding with the owner most cases. No, he would not die; he would most likely become chattel, a forced slave and because of his uncommon good looks, a sexual slave to a male. Always a male because that is what a judge would make sure of.
"You hate to be hand spanked over my knee, Oliver. We know this. How about … this time … after I allow you to take, shall we say, a hard paddling hands on ankles, that you suck me off. On your knees. You eat all of my cum down. I will spare you the humiliation otherwise."
Kasey's face pinched up a little. It was a sparse offering, but how could he even agree to it? And yet. Chaz smirked up the corner of his mouth as he saw Kasey pause to likely refuse, "I've another solution. A paddling over my knee instead of a hand spanking. As I paddle you, you will jerk me off. You will put your hand on my trousered cock and make me cream my trousers. No skin-to-skin contact. How would that be?" Chaz barely able to contain his excitement should Oliver give in to either offering.
Kasey sighed. It was a compromise. Not a pleasant one, but if anyone had taught him that compromise could work and still be messy and even distasteful, his own father had, many times. Many times Kasey had been made to sit in a conference room as his father, Vincent Oliver, ripped the guts out of yet another floundering corporation or small business, forcing them to sell off to him at a ridiculous rate that would devastate its desperate owner.
"Fine," Kasey gave in, "Paddling and … and hand-job," Kasey concluded with a sour visage. Chaz's heart sped up as he calmly and thinly smiled, "Very well Oliver. Let's get on with it then," spanking paddle already in hand, Chaz then canted out a knee,
"Over. And make sure you have a good grip before I start. Do a good job, and I'll let up on the force. Agreed?" Chaz asked, "Agreed," Kasey said with a shiver realizing that this was not punitive compromise. It felt like forced sexual compromise, but given the world that had changed around them all by leaps and bounds, he should still count himself lucky.
"That's it!" Chaz said as his balls now started to fill, drawing the paddle back for the third time; but this time, the lick was firm, not hard. It could not possibly have hurt that much and did not, rather did not hurt Kasey's ass as much as it bruised his ego as his hand nonetheless furiously now tried to get Chaz off, just get it over with!
"Harder, Oliver, grip a little harder!" and Kasey did. Then, no more licks, only holding on as to not fall as Chaz swept Kasey's hand away to clutch at his own crotch as wave after wave of orgasm accompanied the trapped spurtings from Chaz's piss slit as it soaked his undergarment.
Chaz grinned and felt like a million dollars, "Get up, get dressed," Chaz said in a husky whisper of his recovery. Kasey did feeling like a used piece of meat, but it had been his own fault for trusting in those who had perpetrated and obviously misrepresented the prank in the first place.
Nursing a not nearly as sore backside as he might have, Kasey sped for the room door and just as he reached it, Chaz caught his attention, "One more thing Oliver," and Kasey turned to see Chaz's self-satisfied smirk,
"Your family is rich, like mine; but not your blood line. You're still just an ordinary bastard around here. Keep in mind, Oliver, that you'll never get ahead in this world unless you kiss ass … mine and men like me who will always know who you really are. Have a nice evening," Chaz finished, and then Kasey turned and got out of there as fast as possible.
As Kasey Oliver fast walked down the hallway, he didn't mind that his backside was a little sore. Nor had he really minded all that much that he had to make a choice to masturbate Chaz to get less of a painful punishment, "Fuck kissing his or any other head boy's ass. In fact fuck all of the Chaz Harpers of the world," he told himself, repeating it again and again.
But at the end of it, at the end of the day there still was that small voice deep inside Kasey Oliver that told him that Chaz was not wrong. That somewhere down the road in the miasma of the dysfunctional present world, a reality existed for boys like him. One that said that kissing ass would be all that there would be left for him some day and he better just get used to it.
* * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 1 – Just Another Ordinary Evening After Work
I was tired, grouchy and out of sorts. I had just been in an all-day meeting with my product manager's retooling after months of uncertainty. My company, JZR Industries (Jack Zachary Roman Industries), had just survived a protracted attempt at a hostile takeover perpetrated by an old college buddy of mine, Vincent Oliver, owner of VO-Enterprises.
Vincent had tried to kill my ownership of my business and take it for himself or sell it off to the highest bidder. It was what Vincent did for a living, albeit a cruel and heartless one. Well, all he did was to kill our friendship, create an enemy, me, and was now a potential felon having just been indicted a few months ago by a federal grand jury of insider trading and other fraudulent schemes to debunk his many investors. Asshole.
I parked my Ferrari at the front door of my mansion and estate. Right away Cody was there opening my door, "Master, welcome home, how was your day?" he stepped back as I emerged.
I sighed. My dear slave, Cody, was a sight for sore eyes, his brown and soft. His body as always a nice muscular slenderness that I highly valued.
Cody was now nineteen-years old. I had purchased his contract as paired slaves with Tim, also nineteen and who I now saw rushing out of the front door and also to my side. Both boys wore only a fresh clean white jock strap that I always prescribed for good weather uniforms.
Footwear was simple leather sandals to guard against unwanted dirty bottoms of feet. I had a thing (and not a good thing) about dirty feet and the boys knew it.
My slaves knew that a dirty foot sole or any such breach of house rules concerning spotless appearance would result in an unhappy Master. Any such offending boy or boys would be unceremoniously draped submissively over my knee for a very long session of kicking, crying punitive corporal punishment with brush, hand maybe even belt.
Thankfully I rarely had to do that anymore. Corporal punishment now was a reward in my household, a strict slave sexual trait that I had demanded of my dark-skinned slave broker, the handsome and sexy slave trader, Abdullah Mohammed.
Dear Abdullah. What would I do without him? He had found me my Alpha boy, Benjamin. Dear Ben, now twenty-one to my twenty-nine years. Sleek, handsome, cute even. Muscular, athletic and smart. Now why would a boy like that want to be another man's personal servant, valet and sexual slave?
For Ben it was an easy decision. Security. He was a natural slave and knew it and at the time had sold himself to the highest bidder on a contract that allowed for his freedom by age thirty. I paid a king's ransom and small fortune for Ben, but he was worth every damn penny and more.
"Master, you look tired. You've been working too hard. Please, you need a massage and lots of playtime with your boys or with Ben and a good meal," Tim fussed over me while Cody stood by not mute, just shy. Cody was my river-runs-deep shy boy, Tim my mouthy, outgoing boy.
If anyone still needed some over-the-knee discipline because he just could not help himself, it was Tim and yet his heart was always in the right place. Heart or not, just the prior week he spoke out of turn during a dinner party at our home and so my guests were treated to the sights and sounds of his public leather strapping.
My mostly male crowd including many attending with slaves of their own watched delightedly as I pulled my suddenly very contrite boy across my knees and administered the strap to his perky upturned bare bottom until he was writhing, whimpering and then openly begging for mercy for all to enjoy hearing and seeing. A few young slave boys in attendance with my owner friends were especially sexually aroused by the sights and sounds of a fellow slave brother receiving familiar punishment and a few of their owners borrowed my strap afterwards to knock them down a notch or two in our presence. Tim kept his mouth well shut for the rest of the night. Wise boy.
Tim took my briefcase and lap-top computer, "Cody, take Master inside to his bedroom and see to his comfort. Master, do you want Ben to ready himself?" Tim fussed.
I chuckled. As my Alpha boy, Ben was in charge of both Cody and Tim, a fact that Tim sometimes now chaffed at. He was competitive that way and so was Ben. It was OK with me as long as there were no real fights or even hard feelings between them or at least not the kind that did not involve a cock getting properly used.
Cody's face grumped just a little. He was shy, but did not like it when Tim bossed him around, "I know what I'm supposed to do, Tim!" Cody snapped back. This was wonderful, their banter,
"Cody? Do you need a good sound spanking over Master's knee?" I playfully admonished Cody with calm not to chastise him so much as for the entertaining sight of a deep blush and a sheepish, very boyish shuffle,
"No sir, no Master, apologies Master," his voice soft if also a little feminine and avoiding the word, "sorry," a word I loathed and the boys knew it. I shot a warning glare at Tim who looked way too smug for any boy's good in my household,
"Tim. Chill out or do I need to put you on the bench in the basement and use that new hardwood paddle I got the other day?" I barked sharply at him and not because I didn't love Tim, but because he required a completely different approach then my soft Cody.
Tim did not blush, but his head did drop, "No Master. Apologies Master. I'll do better," his voice very self-deprecating and this, of course, allowed Cody the brief perk of a quick "I told you so" facial expression which I let pass.
I softened and lifted Tim's chin and then brought both boys in with my arms, hugging them to myself. I kissed the tip of Cody's nose and then kissed Tim's temple,
"Maybe I should just paddle both of your hot bare bottoms to a crisp and then fuck you, one after the other," I growled knowingly with a smile,
"Yes, Master!" Cody blurted, "Please, yes Master!" Tim as well, finally both boys sounding like properly behaved slaves rather than employees or worse, spoiled brat children though at times they really were all of those things, "Come on then, where's Ben?" I asked starting to walk up the marble stairs leading to the mansion's front double doors.
"Cooking, but I'm not supposed to tell you what," Tim said as we reached the doors and went inside, Tim peeling off to do other things before dinner and my nostrils filling with the alluring aromas of Ben's cooking cuisine.
I was smiling as Ben had become a masterful chef. Cody followed me closely and upstairs to my loft bedroom that doubled at times as a sex playroom with some BDSM furniture, just not a lot. The bulk of our BDSM furniture was of course contained in the main basement play dungeon.
I stood as Cody fussed around me, disrobing me to nakedness, "Bath or shower, Master?" he asked, but I was not yet in the mood for either as yet,
"Maybe later before dinner. Get Ben for me, Cody," I said with a certain tone that Cody knew was code for "Master needs some of Ben's very special skills."
"Yes Master, right away!" and Cody scurried like a short legged-terrier. I slumped on the edge of the bed still fuming over asshole, Vincent Oliver.
He had set my company back months if not a couple years' worth of production and profit with all of his stupid-ass expensive legal maneuverings and shenanigans. My personal legal fees were astronomical, not even to mention the protracted anxiety and stress.
I remained furious with him and with his family who had actively participated in the effort including his teenaged son, Kasey. I hoped the long arm of the law would bring Vincent down and bring him down hard. It would be Vince's fault if his actions harmed his son as well.
A few long moments later Ben shot through the doorway, Cody right behind him. I looked up grateful for the wonderful distraction and fixed my slave's grey eyes, sleek, fit muscular body and a countenance that respected me, but did not fear me.
Whereas I mostly preferred to keep Tim and Cody in the dark about their Master's business dealings and specifically had avoided exposing them to the Vincent Oliver debacle, Ben had been entirely involved and knew how the ordeal had and still affected me. Ben also knew how to relax and settle my mind and body away from the torment and right now I needed his bold awesome skills this evening. He knew he had open permission to take action.
I was physically no wimp. At five foot, ten and a nice one-hundred sixty pounds I was in great shape. Ben doubled as my trainer, so he knew; but ben was six-foot one, one-eighty. Tannish skin, jet black hair, short-cropped of course.
When I topped my Ben, nobody turned me on more. I loved putting him in bondage gear in our basement dungeon and maybe up on our St. Andrew's cross making him howl with pain and then watch and listen to him weep and whimper with pleasure. I could put him over my knee like a little boy and watch him crumble like one and his pleasure in it was, as always, very evident.
Call it chemistry if you like, it just worked; but Ben was my chameleon, just like right now. When I needed or wanted to be topped, Ben was a wizard. He could read my mood just right, again just like right now consequent my still simmering rage concerning Vincent and his little shithead son, Kasey.
"Get me the hairbrush, Cody, now!" Ben snapped his fingers authoritatively at Cody. When Ben barked at Cody, Cody did not complain as with Tim. Cody obeyed because Ben was much older than Cody and was his Alpha and treated Cody like a true brother, but also because I had given Ben certain limited corporal punishment privileges with both Cody and Tim.
I periodically supervised spanking sessions with Ben putting both Tim and Cody over his knee and paddling or strapping them. I would watch and praise Ben's prowess, just to emphasize his Alpha status with Tim and Cody, but the cake also cut both ways.
Once in a while, I would punish Ben in front of Cody and Tim, both to humble Ben and to let Tim and Cody know that even though he was my Alpha, Ben was still a slave boy to me equal to them in that manner. Ben's finger snap directed at Cody not only caught Cody's attention, but mine as well. I let myself react, standing up and mostly pretending to bristle back defiantly in order to start to bleed off my pissy mood,
"No, no way, Ben, stand down. I'm not in the mood!" I challenged him with a terse, cranky and annoyed tone, my fists clenched at my sides allowing the day's and other frustrations to fuel my reactions.
Cody had the dreaded instrument of spanking humiliation into Ben's fist in under ten seconds and then stepped back out of the way, his eyes wide with anxiety because Ben and I were facing off. Ben knew to ignore my words and strode purposely over to me without any loss of his intensity tossing the brush onto my bed top,
"Master. You need a sound spanking over my knee, please," his tone maddeningly (and very erotically) firm, but not angry as he sat and waited, impassive, but not ignorant. It was up to me now. Hard or easy. I could flop. I loved flopping over Ben's knee as Cody watched. I understood my occasional need for sexual humiliation in front of my boys as it was a great turn-on for us all.
But sometimes I needed or wanted to be hauled and forced and tonight, I needed to be crude, "Fuck you, Ben," I said standing with arms folded and just glared at him like a petulant adolescent, just daring him.
Cody bit his lips, hopping from one foot to the other with his jockstrap filling out. He was used to this little game Ben and I might play from time to time, but was never quite confident that I would not just launch into Ben and beat him senseless so to speak.
Ben said nothing, sighed just a little and then suddenly springing up from where he sat, kind of jumped to my side, grabbed my arm and then forcibly hauling me back to the bedside he pulled me face first across his lap. Ben's physicality with me was a boon and I sighed as I flopped down across his knees, non-resistive, a slight smile on my face as I barked,
"No!" and then covered my naked ass with both of my palms, pressing them hard into my own flesh and feeling wonderfully petulant and therapeutically distracted as intended.
Ben did not react verbally to me, instead he strongly and patiently moved my hands and wrists up to my lower back, the fingers of one hand interlacing with mine effectively pinning them down and out of the way. A fingertip of his other hand now firmly rimmed and probed my pucker hole making me gasp and start to lose my negative energy for anything but what he was doing right there, right now.
"Cody, come over here please and get your jock off and use your cock properly," Ben instructed, the word "properly" meaning very specific actions that Cody was to perform of which I was well aware and desperately wanted.
"It's time for spanking, Master," Ben said flatly, "No, please don't spank, Ben," my reply nothing but a scripted turn-on, one that I enjoyed and awaited Ben's response, but Cody then started to slap my face with his cockhead, teasing me, forcing me to pay attention to it instead and I did.
I gapped my mouth open trying to capture my boy's big, hard cock, Cody slapping my face, lips, nose and tongue making me smile and even slightly giggle, "Shhh, Master. You need a good, hard tanning," Ben responded right in the middle of Cody's distracting cock play and this time and before I could respond and complain to Ben, Cody grasped the sides of my head, dug his fingertips into my hair and then very confidently slid his erect cock all the way into my mouth and right down to my throat.
Ben's palm then slapped my ass, spanked it hard, again and again and again. Cody's cock effectively shut me up and owned my mouth as Ben continued to beat my ass with sharp stinging slaps forcing anything and everything of my work day and the past weeks of mental torture from Vincent's protracted but failed assault out of my mind.
"Suck my cock Master, suck it good. You know you need it!" Cody's gentle voice needled me with kindness as his cock now was throttling my throat in and out as now was his job. Now I was content to feel Ben's palm punishing my ass, Cody mouth-fucking me and letting me suckle out pre-cum from his piss slit and then fucking my mouth again, tickling my tonsils with it.
"Hand me the brush, Cody," Ben said, but I was helpless to complain verbally and could only utter a loud groan of "No!" Cody already knowing to nearly gag me to prevent response. I then glanced with my side vision.
There was Tim, squatting near my head now, his face a picture of empathy and love and I adored when all three of my boys were in my room with me as Ben put me into my place and settled me away from the day's business miseries with his skills. Tim stood and sidled up to Cody's side,
"Looks hot brother, very hot," and then I heard the pair kissing and sucking face sloppily as they sometimes did. It sounded as hot as Tim had just said. Ben sizzled my ass quite thoroughly a while longer and then stopped as Cody pulled out and I spat and panted, my behind on fire,
"Cody, help Master to the bed, face down. Tim? Want to mount Master?" he asked as was Ben's right to ask of his brother, "Of course!" Tim answered brightly as Cody arranged pillows and then helped me to collapse into the knee-chest and ass-up position thankful that Timmy was going to finish me off with a hard butt-fucking.
I lifted up as Cody's lap went under my head and his cock was up and ready to continue to serve as my binky. I engulfed Cody's cock back into my mouth as Tim grabbed my hips from behind, Ben directing the action,
"OK Tim, give Master a good hard fuck. No holds barred!" Ben said and I stuck my ass up and Tim speared me. I yelled, but the yell was muffled from Cody's cock filling my mouth once again. I heard lusty spanks, but that was Ben spanking Tim as they kissed and Tim fucked me, but I was busy from both ends now.
Cody was up-fucking my mouth as well as pinching at my sensitive nipples. Ben was fisting and stroking my cock for a third distraction, my ass still smarting from Ben's hard brush paddling. My body was starting to hum with the need to come and to eat and take semen into it from my boys, but Ben was on top of things, "Get ready boys, Master needs to cum, you cum with him!" and that set us all off.
Tim pounded the crap out of me and emptied his balls coating my insides. Cody shot his load as if in a straight line down into my stomach. Ben painfully and therefore delightedly extracted semen from my balls with his strong fist and a long moment later I collapsed into Cody's lap, my mouth sans cock, me panting for air from the hard needful exertion.
I just lay there, smiling, not a care in the world now. It had all worked as planned. I felt Tim climb off of the bed, Ben too. I got up on my elbows and looked at all three of them in turn, "Thank you my hot boys, that was perfect," I nodded and then crawled off of the bed, Cody right behind me.
"I need to go back and finish preparing dinner, Master, please," Ben said worriedly no doubt because of a dish that needed tending. I strode to him and hugged him, "Thank you Benjamin," and slapped his hot ass hard just once. He hissed,
"Please Master. Can I have a dungeon strop whipping later?" he asked, "Of course, now go cook, take Tim with you," I said and the pair scurried off leaving Cody with me. I wagged my finger at my boy and he came flying into my arms, "Did you like it?" he worried.
"Of course I did. I love it when you shove that hot cock of yours down my throat," I said, "Can I get a spanking too, later … daddy?" he asked very shyly. Oh how I love when Cody wants to be spanked. It's so … he's so boyish and acts the part perfectly and being slight of build, is easily man-handled. And he likes to play daddy-son games with me.
I'm his "daddy," and actually I'm kind of everyone's daddy in spirit if not legally, but Cody likes to pretend he's my naughty only son and really takes it to heart during spankings. I reached up and grabbed Cody's ear, "Later? How about now. I think my naughty son needs the brush, right now!" and started to drag him to the bed.
"No daddy! No! Not the brush!" he said playing his role as I sat and then he flew over my knees, poking his ass up so wonderfully, "Oh, yes, a good … hard … brushing," I said and showed him the brush, "Nooo!" He wailed, "Oh yes!" I said and drooled over his luscious hot bare bottom cheeks and then separating them with my fingers, leaned over and started a lusty tongue licking of his butt hole.
Cody wiggled and squirmed, whimpered and moaned, "dadddieeeee," and I smiled and sat up, "What son?" I said, "Please daddy, a good hard brushing," not so shy and calm now. I wrapped my arm around his slender waist and fisted his hard cock and then taking the brush started in with a hard, relentless hiding.
"Ou! Ou! Ou! Ou!" Cody wailed as I tanned his hide and fisted his cock and then stopped, dipped down again and tongued his butt hole, this time with lots of penetration. Cody became butter in my arm, "Daddieeee, more tanning, please," his voice plaintive. How could I resist? So I didn't.
I whacked his thighs, inside and on top and deepened the crimson on his hot slave boy ass. Cody wailed and squirmed and played his role perfectly to the last brush lick. I stopped, "Come on. Shower with me Cody so daddy can give his hot son a good hard, hard fuck," I growled.
Cody popped up to his feet and held out his hand. I took it. He took us into my capacious bathroom and shower that was big enough for all four of us if we wished. Cody got the steamy shower water running from two of the four heads, paired and opposing, and taking my hand led us in.
I was treated to a strong wonderful massage and gel bath by my boy who told me a little about his day at home at our estate. After he rinsed me, I bathed Cody enjoying his small stature and soft skin. I rinsed him and then motioned to the shower's bench.
Cody mounted the bench and then from behind, I mounted Cody. Cody was delightfully skilled and his boy cunt cuddled my eager cock and sucked me in and I pounded my slave boy, pounded and slammed, but did not cum and instead pulled out of him,
"Turn around boy, eat daddy's cum," I said and he gapped his mouth open and I jacked my cock and drenched his face and tongue and then spattered his mouth with my second orgasm of the evening.
"Now stand and bathe me in your cum," I said. He stood and I sat facing Cody who put on a show beating off his hard meat and when he got to the edge, he sprayed me head to toe! It was delightful, entertaining and relaxing.
We re-entered and showered off the spunk and getting out of the shower the second time, Cody dried me with a big white fluffy towel and then dressed me into my black silken evening robe, commando.
* * * * * * * * * *
That night about an hour after Ben's fantastic meal, we all retired down to the basement dungeon. I put Tim and Cody into leather gear including harnesses and bade them to get ready to fuck Ben when I was done with him.
Ben was nude and secured onto the spanking bench tummy down, a leather caged ball gag in his mouth and secured to his head and skull. I didn't play games with Ben that night. I took up the wood handled leather strop and give my Alpha boy a thorough tear running stropping from crown of ass to mid-thigh. I was sweating by the end, Ben sweating from the physical effort of withstanding the whipping as well as howling into the gag.
I finished his whipping and motioned for Cody and Tim to get to work. They did. They each fucked Ben hard and long. As they did I removed Ben's ball gag and mouth fucked my big strong Ben, made him gag again and again and after Cody filled Ben's butt with cum, Tim did as well and I added my third load down his throat at the end.
Afterwards we three stood in the dungeon hugging, kissing and caressing. No man who could afford slaves on this planet was happier than I. No man more affectionate for his slave boys than I and his slave boys for him. We all slept long and hard that night as the next day, our lives were about to change.
© Copyright PJ Franklin July 29, 2017
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