Date: Fri, 24 Dec 1999 15:53:49 EST
From: DennisR539@aol.com
Subject: My Master, My Son  (part 1) Authoritarian/incest

This story is about male on male sex. It involves men and boys, some of whom
are related. If you do not like that kind of thing you are free to exercise
your right NOT to read it. If you are underage, you should be doing homework
right now and not playing around in this kind of site. So depart.

If you like it, let me know. Since the story is fantasy, the characters do
not practice safe sex. You should, however. Besides, I can not think of
anything safer than a JO to a story. Email me if you want to make some
comments.


My Master, My Son (Part 1)
By Dennis

Chapter 1- My Son Returns

My son was coming back to live with me after 5 years. He was now 15. His
mother had divorced me and taken him with her to another state. She had never
really loved me. I had gotten her pregnant and we did what we were supposed
to do. Had a loveless marriage. But the cause of our separation was not that.
It was such that, rather than allow it to become public, I agreed to never
try to get visitation rights. After all, I was a teacher in a middle school.
What was the cause? Well, she had caught me in bed with the husband of her
best  friend.

The two woman, and some others, were on a girls' night out and she was
supposed to stay at someone else's house overnight. My son , along with some
of the other's children, had been dropped at a mutual babysitters. The
husbands were going to play cards all night. The cards ended early (we were
all drunk). The other husbands went home but Gary appeared so trashed that I
would not let him drive. Actually neither he nor I had a major buzz. After we
were alone we went to bed for a suck and fuck session. You see, we had been
doing that for about  two years after we had met at a gay bar in town. My
wife  thought it was great that we were such good buddies.

We had done a doobie, had a sex party, and were asleep, naked and wrapped
around each other, when my wife came home. She thought I might be meeting
another woman and wanted to catch us together. I wasn't. The scream she made
was probably heard in the next county. And that was, except for the meeting
in the judges chambers during the divorce proceedings, the last time we laid
eyes on each other.

I never saw my son again either. The financial settlement was mostly in her
favor, but that was okay. I wanted my son not to suffer because I was stupid.
My wife told Gary's wife  why we broke up. So there were two divorced men as
a result.


Gary and me had continued our relationship for a while, even moving in
together to save a few bucks. That didn't last. For the last three years, I
had lived alone. I had sex with guys I met but no relationships. Frankly, I
kind of liked my freedom.

Now all that was ending. My wife had met a man she wanted to marry. My son
did not get along with him. So my wife, through her lawyer, said I was to
become custodian of our son. She gave up child support and, when she got
remarried, alimony payments.

I met Chuck at the airport. He had no baggage. It was an awkward meeting. We
had not spoken or seen each other for such a long time. We had little to talk
about about on the way back to my new house. I had given up my apartment and
bought it  when I found out that I was to  be a father again. The apartment
only had one bedroom and a small bath and kitchen an I figured that, as a
teenager, he would need some room. With the end of my financial obligations,
I could afford a decent house in the `burbs. There were three bedrooms and
two full baths on the second floor, living room, kitchen, dinning room half
bath and study with fireplace on the first floor, an unfinished basement and
two car garage. More than enough room for two guys living alone. And the
schools were good.

What about my sex life? I figured I would put that on hold for a while. I did
not know what  he knew about me. I would work all that out in time.

That night, over dinner, Chuck told me about his life with my ex. Seems that
she resented him. He looked enough like me that he reminded her of too much.
After a while she made no bones about the fact that she didn't love him, that
as far as she was concerned he was a burden, a cross to be born. She let him
run wild, caring little for his welfare. She had also told him that I was gay
(a fag was what she said) and headed for eternal damnation. He hated her.  He
boiled with resentment.

The summer he was thirteen, Chuck had rebelled and ran away. It was two days
before his mother even knew he was gone. It was a month before he came home.
But in that month he had grown up, a lot! While hitching, he had met a man
about my age (34). The man had taken him home, gotten him high and had sex
with him. It was all one way. Chuck just laid back and let the guy suck his
cock. He never reciprocated.

When it was over, the guy offered him money. Instead Chuck had made an
arrangement with the man. For  providing him with food and a place to stay,
the guy could suck him all he wanted. It was a kind of blackmail. Chuck
hinted around that, after all he was only 13. And 13 will get you 20. The guy
was caught between a rock and a hard place. He agreed to the arrangement.
Shortly, Chuck found that the sex didn't have to be all one sided. If he
needed relief, he just demanded that the guy suck his cock. He started
fucking the guy too.He was in puberty and his hormones were raging. . And he
found that he liked having sex with a man even if the man did it because he
had to.

After a while, he became bored. He had seen his picture on one of those
missing children shows. He was afraid to leave the house for fear he might be
spotted. The guy talked him into going home. But before Chuck left, the guy
had given him money not to tell anyone where he had been or what he had been
doing. Chuck had learned another important lesson. He went home with the
knowledge that, in spite of his age, he could be the boss.

The resentment he had toward all adults, male and female, bubbled out as he
told me all this. After he went back to his mother, he found that by using
sex he could get all kinds of things. He found out the haunts of men who
liked "chicken" and essentially became a male prostitute. Some of the other
boys involved  showed him the ropes. They had sex with him too. They taught
him how to please a"trick". He learned how to suck cock, get fucked, fuck,
how to avoid the pimps and how to get the "john" to give him even more money.
He found he could abuse them and they came back for more. He got beat up a
couple of times too, until he found out how to fight. Like I said, he grew up
a lot.

This was the raging adolescent across the table from me. He never told me how
much he had come to hate me. He blamed me for everything that had happened to
him. He didn't trust me either. He figured that, like his mother, I would
treat him like shit. I tried to comfort him, to let him know that I loved him
but he would have none of it. I was an adult, the father who had abandoned
him, no different than the tricks he had manipulated and abused.

By the time he finished telling me all this, it was very late. I figured that
he was tired and that he wanted to go to bed. I promised that the next day I
would take him shopping so that he would have some clothes until his stuff
came by truck. I figured we would spend some time getting to know each other
before I would register him at the local high school. I showed him to his
room and told him  he could fix it up anyway he wanted . It was his room and
I would never invade his privacy. I showed him the bathroom he could use,
since I had a kind of master suite with its own.

After I cleaned up, I knocked on his door. He told me to come in. He was in
bed under the covers. I sat down on the edge of the bed. He asked me about
being gay and if I had a boyfriend. He asked me if I liked young guys his
age. When I assured him I didn't, he pulled back the covers to reveal a naked
body and a huge hardon.

Now I have to admit that he did have a nice body. His cock was about 7 inches
and medium thick. He had a dark pubic bush and there was dark hair on his
legs. He lifted his knees and spread his legs and played with his dick. He
was fantastic. I wanted to possess that body, but he was my son. I couldn't!
My mind reeled.

With an evil grin on his face he said, "Want to suck me?"  He lifted his legs
to his chest and spread them. "Want to fuck me? Or maybe you want me to suck
you or fuck you? I am pretty good at it. never had a complaint!"

Frankly, he was pretty hot. I knew that in a couple of years he was going to
be fantastic. If I had met a guy in a bar who looked like him , I would have
been all over him. But he was my son. He was also too young. I liked guys my
own age more. Guys in their 20s were a stretch for me. No depth. As for
anyone under 20, forget it. I won't say I didn't lust after their bodies. I
just wouldn't like to date them.

"Look, we are going to be living together. I am your father and I have no
intention of ever having sex with you. I am not the kind of guy who would do
that to his son. I love you. I have always loved you. I will try to help you
adjust to a normal life. We can even see a counselor if you want to. I will
try to make it up to you for all you have endured. You have to trust me."

He looked me in the eye, pulled the covers back over himself and said "Yeah,
right!"

I bent down to try to kiss his cheek but he turned his head away. I got up
and said "Good night."

He said nothing.

Chapter 2- My Capture

For the next month we settled into a somewhat normal life. I got him some
state of the art computer stuff, scanner, disk player , printer. Oh yes,  and
a video camera He seemed to like the school and made friends. We did not do
many father/son things but that was alright with me. I was just happy to see
him behave somewhat normally. Other than a temper and a hair trigger, he
seemed to be adjusting.

But after a month, I noticed that he was staying out later than I thought he
should. He always had a good excuse, but it bothered me. Sometimes, he stayed
out all night, at a friend's, he said.  He also started bringing his friends
to the house. Like him, they were good looking with developing bodies that
they hid because  they wore those homeboy clothes. They took over the
basement as a hangout room. I got him some audio equipment, old furniture,
and a TV and VCR for it. He asked for and got some electronics games for him
and his buddies to play. They liked gangsta rap and played it so loud that I
sometimes had to retreat to my bedroom to hear watch TV.

One day when I came home from work, I went down to check out the furnace. No
one was home. I saw some video tapes sticking out from under one of the
chairs. I figured I would straighten up a bit and picked them up. When I
looked at the jackets I was surprised to see that they were S and M  titles.
Some were male/female, some were female/female but many were male/male. I
popped some into the VCR and started to watch. There were guys tied up,
beaten, licking assholes, forced to have sex with either other slaves or with
masters.

Now, I have nothing against that whole scene. Indeed, I had participated in
it a couple of times from the bottom. It was exciting to be out of control of
the situation, to not have any say in what happened to you. I have licked a
few asses and been tied down and fucked by a couple of guys. But I was an
adult. and it was all "make believe".This was way too strong for kids.

I picked them all up and took them up to the den. I threw them into the
fireplace, put on some paper and wood and burned them. When he returned,
Chuck and me were going to have a long chat.

It was dark when he came home and it was no father/son chat. It was a
screaming match. The invective that he yelled at me carried all the force of
a blow to my gut. There was a kind of evil to his voice. Obscenities poured
out of him.There was no reasoning with him, no semblance of  civilized
behavior. He was like an animal. He accused me of going back on my word about
giving him privacy. He said I was a Judas. He said i was just like every
other adult in his life.

As he ran out of the house he said "You'll pay for this, you fucking faggot!"

"Well you've done it now. He's run away again" I thought. I rushed outside
but  he was nowhere to be seen. I thought of calling the police but I knew
that as far as they would be concerned, it was just a runaway situation and
that they would do nothing about it until he was missing for 24 hours. I sat
down at the kitchen table and worried. About an hour and a half later, Chuck
called. He said he was at one of his buddies houses and that he would come
home late tonight. Before I could say anything he hung up. Well, at least I
had some idea that he was alright. I had a couple of drinks. Then I had a
couple more. I kept remembering the sound of his voice, the almost mad look
in his eyes.

Feeling a bit woozy, I went up and laid down on my bed. I  fell asleep. when
I woke up and looked at the clock it was 2 AM. I walked down to his room and
tapped on the door. Hearing nothing, I opened the door a crack. He was not in
his bed. Then I went to my bathroom , took a Valium, took off my shoes and
socks and flopped down on my back in bed. I was out like a light.

When I came to, sunlight was coming through the windows. I could hear voices,
boys voices, Chuck's voice,  coming from downstairs. I tried to get up.
That's when I realized that my hands and feet were tied to the posts of the
bed. I was spread eagle and couldn't  move.

I yelled,  "Chuck, what the fuck is going on? Where the hell are you?"

I could hear a couple of people running up the stairs. Chuck and his friends
burst into my room.

"Well, sleepy head, awake?" It was Miller, one of the boys. He was a year
older than Chuck. His hair was spiked and dyed an unnatural shade of blond
"Tsk tsk, tsk. Don't you know that you should not drink and take drugs. It
dangerous. No telling what could have happened to you. That's why we tied you
up. We didn't want you to hurt yourself."

I looked around the room. I could see that there were three of Chuck's
friends. Miller, Anthony, a short, stocky, dark Italian kid, and Juan, a lean
coffee complexioned Hispanic with features that hinted at his Indian and
African ancestry.

"Look boys, very funny. Now untie me."

That's when I heard Chuck say "Naw, Dad, I don't think so. We still have some
things to talk over."

"I have to get up. I have to get dressed. I have to go to work and you have
to go to school. So lets end the games before I get mad."

"Listen to that. He's giving orders again. I don't know, Chuck baby, I don't
think he gets it," It was Juan, "Now listen up, asshole. We in charge now. So
shut your fucking mouth."

I started to protest. I figured I would plead with them to understand what
was going on. I hadn't gotten very far before Anthony reached down to the
floor and picked up one of my socks and shoved it in my mouth.

"Don't worry about work, Dad!" It was Chuck. "I called the school office and
told them you had the flu and would be out a few days, at least until the end
of the week. They said get well, by the way. They won't come looking. Called
my school too. Used my deepest voice and told them I was sick. "The other
boys had called for each other. Their parents would not have cared where they
were anyway. They were close to being throw-away kids. So, there I was, the
prisoner of a bunch of adolescent  boys, led by my own son.

End of Part 1

To be continued