My Dads draft Ch. 4
by Jon Hold
Copyright ©2015 by the Author
Jonhold@earthlink.net
My friend Jock and I wrote some stuff about some things that had happened to me. My step-dad found my notes and asked me about them. I tried to lie about them, but he gave me a spanking, so I told him the truth. Then he gave me another spanking for lying to him and another one for doing stuff behind his back. He talked to me some more and found out that Jock had helped me write my notes. He got very angry and told me that, not only was I a liar, but that I couldn't be trusted because I talked to other people about private things without asking first. He said he was disappointed in me and that since he couldn't trust me, that I was no son of his. Then he turned around and walked away from me.
It was weeks before I could get him to talk to me, and then only because my mom asked him to because I was so depressed. I apologized to him and asked him to forgive me, and he did. And after that he really did become my Dad, for real. Part of our agreement was that I would write down my story, and that he would make sure that I wrote it well. I'm including the few hundred words that Jock and I wrote together here at the beginning so you can see the difference having someone you care about looking at your work makes. Dad and I have a real special relationship, one that I need to be who I am. I isn't right for everybody, or even for very many people. But it's right for me, and for my dad. Here's my story, the way Jock and I wrote it, and then the way my dad had me write it. I hope you like it because Dad said he'd give me a real good fucking for every person who wrote me and said they liked the story. Please write soon.
Joey
***
When I was 13 my mom remarried to a man about 40 years old. He was tall, husky, very strong and imposing in build. Ex-military, he owned a construction company and was not real friendly. He never had much nice to say to me.
A few months after he settled in, and I was 14 years old, he caught me behind the house smoking. He told me to get inside, and when I did he was sitting in a kitchen chair glaring at me. He asked me if I knew what I was doing there, what I had done wrong.
I nodded, "Yes".
He told me to come over to him and to pull my pants down. I hesitated for a moment, but then the look on his face made me hurry up. I got my Levi's pulled down, and he gestured toward his lap. I didn't know what he meant. He saw me hesitate and told me to bend over his knee.
I did as I was told. He pulled down my underpants and I started receiving very hard slaps on my bare ass. The whole time he's slapping my bare cheeks, he's telling me that he won't tolerate living with a fuck up punk. My ass is stinging. Almost no one has seen my naked butt since I was a little kid and I'm really embarrassed, but feeling his hands on my bare ass and the heat he was generating started making me hard. Precum was dripping from my dick as it rubbed against his rough pants. I could feel the heat from his legs on my tummy.
Each slap of his bare hand on my bare butt pushed my hard dick against his trousers and the head of my uncircumcised dick was getting roughed up and hot . His pounding on my ass was making my whole body move forward with each slap. I could feel my guts moving back and forth across his massive leg muscles as he worked my ass over.
The spanking started to slow down, and he rubbed my hot cheeks, which made them feel kinda nice and made me even harder. I was gasping for air and trying to stop crying. He kept me bent over his lap with my head down low, telling me about all my mistakes. The whole time his hand kept coming closer and closer to my butthole. Once in a while he'd spank me again to make a point. My dick would throb extra hard every time he spanked me and deep down inside myself I wanted him to touch my hole.
Eventually he did. He touched my little pucker. First his hand brushed up and down it, lightly rubbing the firm outside with his palm. Soon, his fingers alone were rubbing around my pulsing ring, pushing against my asshole itself. I felt faint and my whole butt started quivering, the pain of the spanking was forgotten and the warmth of my spanking spread out from my butt all over me. Finally, I felt his finger pushing against the ring and sliding, a little bit at a time, into my tight butt. He got quiet as his first big knuckle slid in and I shot all over the side of his leg without even touching my prick. As soon as my cumming subsided, he pulled his finger out and told me to go get changed and to take a shower before dinner.
I couldn't even look him in the eye at that point, so I just pulled my pants up and left.
***
As I had written before, things progressed from the spanking and subsequent finger fucking. After my shower, eating dinner and going to bed, with no more mention of it, or of my cumming, I kinda thought maybe somehow he hadn't noticed, and that maybe the finger in my ass was meant to be part of my punishment. I thought lots of different things. I tried to rationalize the whole event away. Finally I just tried to forget about it. But at night when I would jerk off, it was usually the memory of that spanking, and that big finger probing into me, that got me off.
I should describe my stepfather a little more. He was in his early '40s. His hair was dark, and he had a lot of it all over his body. He was about a foot taller than me and he was much more husky and powerfully built, I'm pretty much on the skinny side, "light in the ass" he calls it. He has an eagle tattoo on his right forearm. He smoked a pipe, sometimes a cigar. He basically intimidated the hell out of me.
About 2 weeks passed, and we kept our usual distance. My mom worked a lot with her charities, and especially after what happened with my real father, we didn't talk much anyway. I just kept to myself. Then, late one evening, my stepfather called me into the living room. He told me there, with my mom watching, that he planned for us to go hunting on some property of his a few hours away. I told him I didn't like hunting, that I never had, and that I didn't want to go hunting with him. My mom then spoke up and said that getting out of the house, just the two of us would be for the best, that I needed to start acting a little more like a son, and at least try to spend some time with my stepdad. There was no further discussion.
The following day he got me up early and I helped him load up his pick-up truck. We left and drove a long ways without a lot of conversation. Finally he spoke up. He said something like, "It's probably partly my fault that you act the way you do, wasting your time and fucking up in school. I should have started tanning your ass when I first moved in. You need some direction, some guidance, and you need to be whipped into shape, in every sense of the word. Things can be a lot nicer around the house if you'll just accept the fact that I'm the boss, and you're the kid. I expect you to start calling me "Dad" from now on, okay?"
I nodded and said, "Alright."
"I intend for this trip to get us back on track. Get your ass on the proper track or I will!" he said.
I fell asleep not to long after that, and woke up as we pulled up to a gate across a dirt road. My stepdad handed me a key and told me to open the gate. I climbed out of the pick-up and did like he told me, relocking the gate after he drove through it. He drove a long way up the dirt road before pulling up in front of a crappy looking cabin. He said that he had helped his brother build it for hunting trips. We got our stuff and went inside. It had a single double size bed, a dresser, a plain wooden table and four straight-backed chairs, a toilet, and a sink. I asked him where the shower was. He laughed and pointed at the sink. I was especially dismayed at the toilet just sitting against the wall. No sidewalls. No privacy.
It wasn't real late, maybe 5 PM, But he said it was too late to go out hunting. That we should talk instead. He opened up a beer and offered me one. "Just this once, so don't get any ideas about sneaking it at home," he said.
We sat on the bed and he asked me why I wasn't trying in school. I said I didn't know... he told me that that's not a good answer.
"If I told you I would whip your ass until it was covered with welts next time you bring home anything less than B's, would that help you know?"
I didn't say anything. I probably turned red though.
"I'm going to remind you what I'm talking about because obviously you've forgotten. Then you can remember, and then I can stop punishing you and we can get on with being a family. You understand?"
I bowed my head and murmured, "Yes."
"I'm going to show you what I'm talking about, and you need to remember. Get your pants down."
I just sat there. Like I didn't hear him.
He popped me on the back of the head. "Do as I say!"
I got up and pulled down my pants and then my underwear.
"Over my knee," he demanded.
I bent over his knees, and touched the floor with my hands. He gave me 5 hard slaps in rapid succession. They hurt much worse than the first time he spanked me. I had tears in my eyes. He gave me 2 more then asked if I was remembering this time.
I said `Yes'.
"Yes, I'll bet you are. You gonna bring home a bunch of crap this semester?", he said, working my butt over some more with that big hand of his. By now, my ass was starting to feel like it was on fire.
"No," I said.
"You answer with either 'Sir', or 'Dad'!" he demanded, whacking my poor cheeks really hard in-between each word.
He continued slapping my sore cheeks. "Have you had enough yet? You think you can remember?"
His pounding was making my butt flame red and was driving my rigid cock into the rough material of his blue jeans. "Yes, Sir. I won't forget," I cried out with tears streaming down my face.
He stopped his spanking. He left his hand resting on my butt for a minute and then slowly rubbed my right cheek, then my left. It was amazing how quickly my fear and pain faded and was replaced with a even harder dick, the flame spreading from my ass into my groin. He continued to rub my cheeks, asking me questions about other things I had screwed up at, and if I would be doing that again. Each time I responded with "Sir", I had no intentions of calling him "Dad" If he didn't like my answer, he'd spank me some more. If he did like my answer, or if he was thinking, he'd run his fingers lightly along my crack or feel and rub my buttcheeks. If he really liked my answer he'd reach down across my fuzzy boy balls and grab my hardon lightly and shake it.
Stroking my erection with his fingertips, he asked, "What's this all about, Boy? I noticed you had a hardon last time. You seem to like having your ass worked over by a man. Are you queer?"
I suddenly was scared again. I didn't know the right answer. I stammered. Finally I said what I usually did to him, "I don't know, Sir."
"You don't know?" He let go and put his hand to his mouth, stuck a finger in his mouth. Then he put the finger up against my butthole which spasmed and tried to reach for his finger. He pressed it against there until finally the ring gave way and his finger slid slowly and tightly into my hot depths.
"How do you feel having a man stick his finger in your asshole, Boy?"
I didn't know how to answer that either, but as he pulled back and slid his long finger back in me, I sighed.
"Does it feel good, Boy? If it does then you are queer. Simple as that. Maybe you need to know that too."
I couldn't speak. His finger was making me feel hot in the head. My dick was on fire and my ass was jumping. He kept sliding that big finger in and out of my butt slowly as I got hotter and hotter.
"You act like I'm sticking my finger in a pussy instead of an asshole, Boy. Does it feel that good to you?"
"Yes, Sir. It does, Sir."
"You ever let anyone else do this to you before?"
"No, Sir," I said, shaking my head.
"You haven't let some buddy of yours butt fuck you?"
"No, Sir," I repeated.
He got real quiet, like he was thinking through things. He kept his finger in there, moving it around a little and keeping me hot. His legs were pushing against my stomach and my little fur patch. By now, my rock hard cock was pointed straight down against his thigh, rubbing against him and leaking my juice onto his pants.
"You ever stuck your finger in one of your buddies assholes?"
I told him `No, Sir'.
"It's tight, Boy. Tighter than any pussy. That's the tightest hole I've felt in a long time. Get up and take your clothes all the way off."
He pulled his finger out of me and let me up. I finished taking my pants off and started on my shirt. He was starting to get undressed too. I watched him get down to his underwear, then watched him take them off. I'd never seen his dick before. It wasn't real long, but it was really thick, with 1 or 2 big veins on it and fluffed up, not hard, but sort of swollen. He was uncut, which fascinated me.
He looked me right in the face and said, "Do you want to go to bed now, Son, or does your butt still need more work?
I started blushing and just hung my head.
He reached over and lifted my chin with the top of his loosely balled fist and looked deep into my tear laden eyes. "It's nothing to be ashamed of with me, Boy. If your ass still needs to be worked on, it needs to be worked on. But you're going to have to tell me, Son. I don't want to have to guess on my own. Now, do you need me to work your ass over some more?"
I thought furiously for a few moments, looking at my stepdads strong face through my blurry vision. I wanted so desperately for this powerful man to be in control, to teach me, to control me... to be my real dad.