Date: Tue, 5 Jun 2018 16:18:00 +0000 (UTC) From: Writing About Josh Subject: Finding Out Who I Am - Gay/Authoritarian FINDING OUT WHO I AM - Chapter 1 >>Normal cautions apply up front. This story contains sexual content including some underage content that may be offensive. If you're offended by man to man sex, BDSM and other similar topics, this isn't the story for you. If you are underage in your area to read this, don't read it. There may be unsafe sex described in this story...be smart in the real world and make good choices. >>Nifty Archive provides a great service and deserves to get your support. Donate...I did! >>This story is a work of fiction and should not be taken to represent any real people. That being said, there were several "inspirations" for characters but I've tried to keep them different enough to protect the innocent and not so innocent. >>This first chapter will be a little setup at the beginning and then a flashback for context. This isn't just a sex story, I enjoy the stories with more content and background - hang in there, it'll get your dick hard soon! Give me feedback and suggestions at writingaboutjosh@yahoo.com I approached the door of the nondescript warehouse building in the suburbs of Los Angeles wondering how I found myself here. This was a long way from middle america where I grew up? Was this who I wanted to become? I would soon find out. A sign next to the door under an unlit red light bulb said "When light is on, filming in progress, enter quietly". A sign below that said "You must be 21 years or older to enter. Adult content inside." Imagine some piano music and a hazy fade to another scene as we roll the tape back and talk about how I got here. My name is Joshua but everyone calls me Josh. I grew up in a cookie cutter medium-sized town in the midwest. Think of the town from Footloose, maybe a little bigger but almost as conservative on the surface. We could have dances but that was about it But, as I came to find out, there were some pretty active underground groups enjoying all sorts of sin and vice behind closed doors. My childhood through junior high school had been pretty unremarkable. Stable parents, a younger sister, church on sundays, picnics during the summer and sleigh rides and ice skating in the winter. Very Norman Rockwell. Then life threw me the first of many curve balls that would drastically change my plans for the future. The town had begun to struggle economically about the time I started high school when the local company that had two factories in town was bought out by a wall street investment company and milked for everything it had and eventually went bankrupt and closed, putting a lot of people out of work. My dad owned his own business, a construction company, so he wasn't immediately put out of work. Mom was a teacher so she was also safe for now. But, the downturn eventually took its toll on Dad's business and he had to let go of a lot of his staff and he became pretty depressed and started to go from an alpha-male, city council member, muscular former high school football hero in town to more of a sad and angry man watching the business he worked his whole adult life to build go from a well regarded success to barely making payroll. Mom kept her job but a teacher's salary is not enough to keep up the McMansion, two cars and two kids heading to college life that Mom and Dad built and the threat of the school district having to downsize and Mom losing her job also was always there. Alcohol, both at home and in the few bars in town, became Dad's therapy of choice to cope. Mom stopped being as involved with the family and, as I found out later, started seeing another man in town behind Dad's back. She had married an alpha and needed that type of man in her life and Dad's alpha was not there right now. The man she was seeing, Roger, was the local fire chief and was definitely an alpha. He had moved to town a few years before from Chicago where he was an assistant chief. Roger had no wife or family. 45 years old, 6'2" and built like the proverbial brick shithouse, it wasn't long before Roger was dating the various middle-aged single women in town in the open and banging the hell out of the needy married women behind the scenes, apparently including my mother. Rumor had it he was hung like a horse and knew how to use it. (A rumor I later confirmed but more on that later). Mom's mood definitely improved and she started to go from a quiet teacher and housewife to a woman about town, joining clubs, serving on committees, attending parties and generally spending even less time at home aside from the time she was getting plowed by Roger. By the time I started my sophomore year in high school, Dad had sold what was left of his construction company to a firm in St. Louis. He started spending more time on the road selling for the new company and attending meetings in the corporate office in St. Louis. While the alcohol and depression improved, the damage to the marriage was done. Eventually, Dad and Mom came to the realization that they weren't in the same place anymore and sat my sister and I down to tell us that they were getting a divorce and Dad was moving to St. Louis to take a new executive position with the company. The money from selling the business and Dad's bigger salary meant he was able to make sure Mom and the two of us could keep the house and our college would be at least partially funded. Since I was almost 16 and my sister was 15, they gave us choices about how much time we spent with Dad in St. Louis. Initially, we were flying to St. Louis almost every weekend and enjoying the "big city" life. At first, Dad was taking us to sports events, concerts and showing us the sights but, eventually, Dad's alpha persona started coming back and he was enjoying the variety of women in St. Louis where he could sleep around. Our weekends there were more and more on our own with money for pizza and taxis than quality time with Dad. That, combined with our ever busier high school lives, meant that over time, it went from every weekend in St. Louis to every other weekend, to once a month and so forth. Eventually Dad became a voice on the phone periodically when one of us wanted something more expensive than usual and needed to guilt him into sending us some money. Roger apparently wasn't looking for a real relationship like my Mom was after the divorce and their affair didn't survive her looking for more than just sex. He wasn't interested in getting tied down in such a fertile field of hungry pussy (and other treats) as our town had. Mom started dating a local owner of a health club who was also an assistant coach on my baseball team. Eric was about 10 years younger than Mom and it was a bit scandalous in town but folks got over it. He was well built as you would expect from a coach and gym owner. I had seen Eric in the locker rooms at school and at his gym where he gave us all free memberships and he was enough to turn even a few guy's heads. About my height (6 ft), he had a much more muscular build but not Arnold competitive body builder type; just very very well toned in all the right places with nice guns and a solid and well defined six (maybe eight) pack set of abs. He had a very respectable cock which looked to be about 5 inches soft with some nice egg sized balls hanging low. He kept his body hair well groomed with just a light fur on his chest and a patch above his cock. He must have some mediterranean in his blood as he had a perfect italian stud appearance, dark hair, masculine face and skin that always seemed to be just tanned enough. The fact that I noticed all of this should have told me something but more on that later. Eric was good to my sister and me, treating us with respect and not trying too hard to be "dad" and, for me anyway, was more of a brother/uncle type. He was always ready with a few extra bucks when I needed it and would talk "guy" stuff with me like sports, girls I was dating etc. Other than some rather loud sexual noises from Mom's bedroom when they'd had a bit to drink, they kept the affection tasteful in front of us. According to her screams I heard one night when they didn't know I had come home early, apparently Mom liked it in the ass, liked it rough and liked Eric's "huge cock" fucking her. I really didn't need to know that but jacked off that night to the idea of Eric fucking my Mom and, after I came, thought, damn, you're one sick fuck man. But after thinking about it, I didn't think it was my Mom I was really imagining, I was imagining Eric fucking without any specifics on who. One afternoon, I went into my Mom's room to get a book she said I could borrow for school, as I was turning from the bookshelf next to the bed, I dropped the book and bent down to pick it up and noticed something metallic sticking out from under the bed. Reaching for it, I pulled out a set of handcuffs. Now curious, I bent down and looked under the bed. There was a box that I pulled out that contained a variety of sex toys in addition to the handcuffs. Some of them, like dildos and blindfolds, I recognized, others were new to me. As I was sitting there on the floor looking at the stuff in the box, I noticed my cock starting to get hard. Was I getting turned on by thinking of my mother using this stuff? No, I realized, I was getting turned on by the toys and the thought of Eric using them on someone. Not turned on by my Mom but by him being an alpha man who used these things to control someone for their pleasure; maybe even on me. What the fuck? I had always been athletic and was on both the baseball and track teams at school and was pretty good at both. Looks wise, I had inherited my Mom's slender build and track kept me slimmer than I really liked. Working out at Eric's club was helping me really start to develop my arms and chest nicely but never huge muscle like Eric or my Dad. Between my legs, I had one thing I inherited from my dad...a dick that was about 8 inches hard and very thick. While I didn't have hair on my chest, I had a respectable amount around my cock. Somehow I had avoided my Mom's pale skin and kept a decent color and got a nice tan very quickly in the summer. While not being the big man on campus, I did alright, had a good crowd of friends I hung out with and found my fair share of action with girls but I never seemed to find one I wanted to get into a serious relationship with and, eventually, my choices became limited to girls in between boyfriends looking for some action, girls who had heard I was hung and wanted to try it or the local sluts. Being a typical horny all american boy, I was always randy and ready and it didn't occur to me that the reason I wasn't looking for a serious relationship might be more than just wanting to play the field . I never had a hard time getting hard with a girl and I knew the right moves, a little on the tits, finger the pussy then climb on board and fuck. A couple girls had given me blow jobs and one let me eat her out. The blow jobs were OK but the pussy taste and smell didn't turn me on at all, in fact if she hadn't been blowing me at the same time, I probably would have lost my hardon. I had always paid attention to other guys in the locker rooms just as I had with Eric but never thought of it as sexual; just checking out other guy's build and comparing to myself even asking more muscular guys for workout tips but I was starting to notice that I had to make sure I didn't stand around naked too long as I was starting to get hard when I was checking them out. Getting hard while looking at another guy didn't fit in this midwestern town even though it was the early 2000s. A couple guys in school had been labeled fags and things didn't go well for them. They quickly lost places on the athletic teams and were excluded from most social activities and even their families lost stature. The older guys who "came out" ended up losing jobs, getting thrown off of civic groups and, when some pedophile rumors got started about them, a couple had finally just packed up and left town. People weren't gay in our town; or so I thought. The box under my Mom's bed stayed on my mind a lot. I found myself sneaking into her room as often as I could to check out the contents. I got on the Internet and started to find out what some of the things were that I didn't know before. Tit clamps, ball gag and a flogger were among some of the things I found. I also found a strap on belt used to wear a dildo and use it like your cock on someone else. Did Eric use this to fuck my mom? Why, he had a cock that rivaled the dildos. Did Mom use this on Eric? When I realized what the clamps and flogger were for, I was both scared by the idea they were being used on my Mom and also turned on about the idea of someone using things like that on someone. Again, what the fuck? One summer afternoon, I was alone in the house. Mom was at a teacher conference and wouldn't be home until late. My sister was hanging out with friends and Eric was at work so I had the house to myself. I snuck into my Mom's room and pulled out the box. Always being careful to note where things were in the box so I didn't leave things too far out of place, I took out the tit clamps. As usual on a hot summer day, I wasn't wearing a shirt and just had on a pair of basketball shorts over my boxer briefs. Thanks to the work at the gym, my pecs were starting to really build up nicely and I had nice large nipples that were dark against my already tanned skin. Again, my cock was stirring as I held the clamps. The clamps had a chain connecting them and had sharp metal teeth with rubber coverings and a screw on each one to adjust how tight they were. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I took one of the clamps and put it on my left nipple. Fuck, that hurt like hell but I didn't take it off. Once I was able to catch my breath, I put the other clamp on my right nipple. Again, hurt like hell but didn't take it off. As I sat there experiencing the pain on my tits, I realized my cock was at full mast and I could see a spot where I was leaking precum through my boxer briefs and my basketball shorts. I pulled down my shorts and briefs under my balls. My manhood stood out hard and proud and I started to stroke it. As I stroked it, I started playing with the clamps, pulling on the chain and moving them around. The pain was intense but so was my hardon. I closed my eyes and continued. "Josh, what the hell?" I opened my eyes to see Eric standing there in his gym uniform; a tight polo shirt and khaki shorts that did nothing to hide his build. Neither of us spoke for what seemed like forever. I let go of my dick and stopped playing with the clamps but didn't take them off. "I, I, I ..." I stuttered but never really found words beyond "I" and, without thinking about it, didn't take off the clamps or let loose of my cock. Eventually, Eric spoke. "Josh, I think you have some explaining to do. Dude, this is your Mom's private stuff and I don't think she intended for you to see it, let alone use it." By now, you'd think my dick would have gone soft but it was still hard as a rock, maybe harder. That wasn't lost on Eric. "Clearly you've stumbled on to something that turns you on" he said, pointing to my dick. I quickly tried to pull my briefs and shorts up but I just ended up with a tent in the front of my pants. "Take those off your nipples" Eric said. "Depending on how long you have had them on, it's going to hurt more when you take them off and the blood starts flowing back so you're probably better off taking them both off at the same time, just rip the bandaid off". Boy, he wasn't kidding, my tits hurt twice as much as when I put them on but, still, my cock stayed hard. "What are you doing here Eric?" I finally managed to say. "I left my wallet here when I left for work this morning and was coming to get it so I could go get some lunch." Eric was spending most nights at our house and had a key which explained how he got in. The steady hum of air conditioning on this hot day also helped me not hear him come in. "We need to talk. Go get yourself cleaned up, put on a shirt and shoes, do whatever you need to do with your dick and meet me in my truck outside in five minutes." This wasn't a request or a suggestion, it was an order and he no longer sounded like a brother or an uncle. I was pretty sure I saw him adjust his package in his khaki shorts as he turned to leave the room. "Yes sir" I said for some reason. Once again, what the fuck? >>So, my first attempt at writing...definitely welcome feedback and thoughts on the next chapter...I have some ideas but welcome your input! My goal is to have Josh back at that door in Los Angeles by the time we're done with chapter three or four so we have some time to build. Some questions, what's Eric up to? What else might be going on "underground" in town? Does Roger continue to play a role? How about Dad? Who do we think Josh really is becoming?