Date: Fri, 29 Apr 2011 22:16:35 -0700 (PDT) From: Paul Vanden Boogard Subject: Role Reversal (part 6) I don't know how it all took place. I did get together with Larry the following weekend, instructing my dad on which chores I expected to be complete by the time I got home. Larry lived above his mother in a large, two story Victorian that had been in their family for years and converted into two separate living spaces. It was a nervous first meeting for both of us, and was mainly a mutual jack off session, though I did suck his cock a little, and he sucked mine as well. What we discovered about each other over the rest of the summer, however, was that we were both tops, and neither of us wanted to be fucked. It was about mid-August when his mother passed away. He took a week off of work, and our occasional sexual flings pretty much came to a halt. I spent most of my summer in the yard. Once I finished capping the stone wall, I concentrated on the gardens, amazed how many plants there actually were. Not knowing what most of them were called, I bought an extensive book on plants and started researching each one, even if only to put a name to them. Whenever I was working outside, I allowed my dad a pair of skimpy shorts, putting him to work as well and sending him to fetch me food and drinks. Nor did I need to trouble myself running into the house to piss, having to remove my muddy shoes at the back door each time. The back yard was private enough that all I had to do was whip out my cock and tell my dad to open his mouth. During the day while I was at the hardware store, he remained naked, and any evening or weekend could find him dressed in panties or the lacey skirt, or a garter belt and nylons. I bought a little lacey pink g-string from him to wear as well. It was the first Friday of October when I went in to work, only to find Mr. Rees in the store waiting for me. "Sorry, Mark, but I need to cut back on my staff. Now, I know you have a higher position, but Larry has been here a lot longer, and I certainly can't fire my daughter." "But, what about Eric, the stock boy? I was here before him." "Oh, Eric's been let go too. Now that Larry is free to work full time, I didn't need him any more either." I just stood and stared at him, dumbfounded. "Here's your check, and you'll get your final one in the mail next week." And just like that, I was unemployed. Stalking out of the hardware store, I stomped up and down the streets for a while, trying to pull my head together and figure out what to do. There were a few stores and restaurants that had "help wanted" signs posted, but I wasn't in the right state of mind to go in and apply at any of them. I wandered around the town for most of the day, then, frustrated, I got into my car and drove home. To my surprise, Larry was there. Strolling quickly to the front door, I went in, terrified that Larry had found my dad naked, or worse, dressed in frilly panties. When I stepped through the door, though, Larry was sitting at the dining room table, my Dad leaning against the counter chatting with him, fully dressed. "Larry, what are you doing here?" I asked. "Just came to tell you how sorry I was that Mr. Rees let you go. He told me about it last night, and offered me a full time position." I looked at my Dad, wondering if Larry had told him about it, and embarrassed at having lost my job. "Yeah, Larry explained it to me," he said in a very nonchalant voice. "Really sorry to hear that." The inflection in his voice seemed almost a little sarcastic, and made me feel suddenly ill at ease. "Well, things have to happen the way they have to happen," Larry replied, getting up from the table. He smiled as he walked past me to the front door. Bucking up my pride, I was about to explain to my Dad that it didn't' matter and I would find another job, when I realized that Larry had stopped and was just standing by the front door. I turned back to him to see what he was doing, or if there was something else he wanted. It was at that moment that my father stepped up behind me, one of my wrists thrust suddenly and sharply behind my back while his hand clamped around the other. I heard the click of steel, and then another before I even realized the sudden pressure around my wrists, my arms locked behind me in a set of handcuffs. "Wha...?" I tried to turn on my Dad, fighting against him as he hung onto the hand cuffs and pulled my arms up behind me. The pain in my shoulders buckled me forward, and I collapsed to my knees. Before I knew it my Dad was down at my feet, cuffing my ankles together as well, I tried to kick out, but only ended up on my face, Larry dragging me toward the front door by the cuffs around my wrists. "Hey!" I yelled. The two of them laughed. "Let me go!" I demanded, finally able to roll onto my back. My Dad just smiled down at me, shaking his head. Pulling off one of my shoes, he tugged the sock off of my foot and grabbed me by my hair, forcing the sock into my mouth. I was wide eyed and terrified, completely confused by the sudden turn of events. "Well, it looks like you can take it from there," Larry said. I arched my back so I could look up at him. My Dad just chuckled. "I guess I'll see you in a couple of weeks." He opened the door and left, my Dad stepping over me to lock it behind him. I grunted through the sock, trying to speak around it. "Shut up," my Dad spoke down at me, then strolled away. I could hear him just around the corner in the kitchen, a drawer opening and closing. The next thing I knew, he was standing over me again, a large scissors in his hand. "I imagine I should explain things, just so you understand," he said. I felt a tug on the cuff of my pants and tried to pull away from him, but he gripped them firmly, the scissors beginning a long path up the side of my leg as he started to cut my slacks away. "You see, Larry was very disappointed to find out that you weren't a bottom. But he was happy to find out that I was willing when he called over here looking for you." I grunted a question, afraid that he'd poke me if I moved. "Oh, yeah, I know. I wasn't supposed to answer the phone, was I? Larry and I did get to know each other very well over the last couple of months, though." I grunted again with disbelief and exasperation, cringing as he worked the blade of the scissors through the thick waistband, the fabric popping apart to expose my thigh. He had cut through the boxers, too. "Turns out he wasn't very impressed by the type of Master you were, though. He's pretty sure that I'm going to do much better." Even in my shock and confusion, I had had the feeling that this was where things were going. My Dad was turning the tables on me, and I was not at all happy about it. Protesting, I shook my head, but he paid no attention to me, grabbing the cuff of my other leg to cut up that side as well. "I did enjoy the fact that you were very strict, and you were very good at finding ways to humiliate and embarrass me. But there were a lot of things that were missing." He didn't elaborate, but finished cutting my pants and boxers away, pulling them out from between my legs and leaving me half naked on the floor. Digging through my pockets, he emptied them onto the table, then threw the ruined clothing into the garbage can. Stepping to stand over me, he looked down at me again, a wry smile on his face. "But I'll teach you what they were." With that he grabbed the front of my shirt, ripping it open and popping off the buttons, using the fabric of it to flip me over onto my stomach. With one knee on my back, he cut the shirt from my arms and shoulders, snipping off the wife beater as well and leaving me with nothing on but a sock and a shoe. "In fact, I intend to teach you a lot of things." He strolled back out of my sight and into the kitchen, discarding the shirts as well. I rolled onto my side and watched until he appeared around the corner, carrying what appeared to be a large plastic tool box. Setting it on the table, he withdrew a key and unlocked it, then flipped the latches and opened it. From my position on the floor, I couldn't see inside, but I recognized right away what the first thing that he withdrew was. Holding it in his left hand, he let it fall to his side while he dug around in the box. It was a leather dog collar. The clink of a chain rolled out of the box as he pulled out a leash as well. Kneeling down beside me, he set them on the floor. "Now," he said, grabbing my chin hard and turning my head to look me square in the eyes, "I expect you to behave." He held my chin and stared at me until I glanced away, unable to challenge him. Picking up the collar, he slid it over my head and tightened the straps, clicking on a small lock that I hadn't noticed and locking the collar into place. Once again, he rolled me onto my stomach. I felt the tug on the collar as he clasped the leash onto it, dropping the rest of its length onto the floor in front of my face. I tried to roll back over, but he stepped on my shoulder and pushed me back to the floor. "Stay." I felt as he tugged off the other shoe and slipped the sock from my foot. I tried to push out the sock that was stuffed in my mouth with my tongue, but couldn't, the back of my tongue becoming so dry I almost gagged. He walked away again, and this time I heard him rummaging around in the pantry. I tried to watch what he was doing, but couldn't move my head enough to look past him as he squatted near the wall by the front door. I did see the hammer swing, but he set it aside after one strike, then appeared to fumble with something. He was turning a screw. When he rose and stepped away, I could see the eye bolt he had turned into the baseboard. Picking up the end of the leash, he took out a clip and clipped the loop of it to the eyebolt. "It's not like you're going to get very far anyway," he scoffed. He placed his hand on my bare ass cheeks, running a finger over my asshole. Gasping, I tensed. He just laughed. Then he was gone and I was left lying there, naked and chained by my neck to the wall, my wrists and ankles cuffed painfully. My Dad was taking over as my Master, and bringing it to a whole new level. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. My father had submitted to me because he had wanted to, had hoped that I would dominate him, and I had no idea why he suddenly, fiercely assumed control. He had to know that I would resist. In fact, it was obvious that he knew that I would resist. That's why he had bound me in chains. Being out of his sight, I dared to roll to my side, watching for him to appear around the corner. I had to pee, badly, and at least hoped to make him understand that. He started whistling a little tune, pulling pots and pans from the cupboards. I tried to groan loud enough for him to hear me, but if he did, he ignored me. It was perhaps ten minutes later that he came back into my sight, lifting the toolbox from the table to set it on the floor next to the couch. He glanced my way as he strolled back into the kitchen, but didn't stop. A moment later I could see him setting a place at the table. All I could do was lie there patiently and wait to see what would happen next, doing my best to ignore the pressure in my bladder. It was probably another twenty minutes before he came around the corner again. He was carrying a plate of food, and set it on the floor against the wall near the front door. I tried to speak around the sock. "You what?" he turned to me. I made a face and squeezed my knees together, curling my legs up to indicate that I had to piss. "Oh," he laughed, and walked away again. I looked after him, puzzled, then glanced up at the plate. When his footsteps rounded the corner, he was carrying a glass, two cup measuring cup. "Roll over," he stuck the tip of his shoe into the crack of my ass and pushed me back onto my stomach. Reaching between my legs, he grabbed my cock and balls and pulled up, lifting my ass off the ground to slide the cup beneath my crotch, my abdomen pressing on its rim, my cock resting on the glass inside of it. I was expected to pee into the cup. Given no other choice, I let my bladder loose, my hot piss filling the cup until I could feel it slowly envelope my dick. It was a little embarrassing, but I could feel my cock getting harder, pressing against the glass. I started to wonder if the cup might overflow. "Pick your ass up." I obeyed, and my Dad removed the cup from beneath me, strolling down the hallway to dump it into the toilet. "Now, here's the deal," he said when he returned. "I'm going to let you eat that, but if I hear so much as a peep when I take the sock out of your mouth, I'll stuff it right back in, and you won't get another chance. Understood?" I considered the proposal for a moment, then nodded. Reaching down, he drew the sock from my mouth. I closed my mouth and grimaced, trying to work up some spit. I had expected him to uncuff my hands as well, but then I heard the scrape of the chair at the kitchen table and him settling into it. Lifting my left shoulder, I glanced down my naked body at him. Dejected, I struggled my way toward the plate, finally managing to get myself onto my knees so I could bend down and take a mouthful of food. He had made steak and mashed potatoes and some steamed broccoli, cutting my steak into bite sized pieces for me. the steak and broccoli weren't difficult, but the only way I could eat the potatoes was to get my face full of them. I was angry and resentful, but I was also a little afraid, unable to see my way out of this. At least for the time being. And I had no idea what my Dad's agenda was. I ate as much as I could, then waited, turning away from the wall and sitting back on my feet as I watched my father finish his meal and clean up, being very strict about paying no attention to me whatsoever. I had already eaten, so figured that I had nothing to lose when I spoke. "You can't afford to keep me chained up," I mocked. He started whistling again, wetting a dishrag to wipe off the table before wandering back over to the tool box. Removing something from it, he turned back to me. "Actually, I can. It's true that the money we have is tied up in your account, but I'll have my first paycheck in a couple of weeks." With those last few words he grabbed the back of my head and stuffed something in my mouth again. I tried to fight it off, but he grabbed the cords to either side of the item and squeezed them together behind my head, gripping them firmly to control me until I settled down. Then he tied to two cords together, my teeth clamped around a soft ball of leather. Letting go of my hair, he strolled away into the bedroom I had usurped from him, emerging a few minutes later in just a pair of lounge pants. Strolling past me, he went to the kitchen to get a beer, then sat in front of the TV on the couch, turning it on and flipping open a magazine. I grunted a couple of times, but he adamantly refused to acknowledge me, and set about ignoring me for the rest of the evening as he read and watched his shows. Twice he passed me to go to the bathroom, but did his best to pretend that I wasn't there. The short leash didn't allow me to move more than a couple feet from the wall while I was kneeling, and only a little further from it if I laid down. I did try to indicate that I had to pee again at one point, but he ignored that as well, and spent most of my time sucking at the leather ball in my mouth, trying to keep the drool from running out around it. It had to be close to midnight when he finally rose and turned off the television. I had been lying on my side, and tried to get up onto my knees, but he brushed by me before I had the chance. I heard him humming while he was in the bathroom, and he continued to hum as he strolled by, brushing his teeth. He went into the kitchen, then returned with the measuring cup, setting it on the floor just a couple feet away from me. Picking up his tune, he wandered back into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth, then went to bed, reclaiming his old room. I cursed at him around the ball gag. There was nothing I could do. My arms were sore and my hands were numb in the cuffs behind me, and my ankles hurt like hell. Aside for that, I still had to pee. Given no choice, I worked myself over the cup, rolling back onto my side and fidgeting around until I could get myself into position above it. He was leaving me here for the night, naked and chained on the hardwood floor.