Date: Sat, 18 Nov 2023 21:57:31 +0000
From: peter <psorenson9@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jarod Finds His Daddy - Chapter 8

Jarod's journey with his therapist/daddy Richard takes a kinky turn.
Thanks for hanging in with me on this story.  I'd enjoy your feedback, good
or not-so-good.  I can be reached at psorenson9@hotmail.com.

Also, please donate to Nifty so they can keep these stories coming:
http://donate.nifty.org/.


Chapter 8


Again, without words, his eyes asked me, "Are you ok?"

"More than ok, Daddy," I replied.  He removed his grip on my hands and
lowered himself onto me so we were now torso-to-torso, sticky and sweaty.
He lowered his face to mine and our lips met with a tender post-coital
kiss.  We couldn't kiss hard or long enough. But finally, Richard suggested
we get cleaned up so we can go to bed properly and get some sleep.  Just as
we were getting out of bed, he reached to his bedside table and pulled out
something that looked suspiciously like a butt plug.  He saw the concern on
my face and sat back down next to me.  He took my hands and said earnestly,
"I want you to do one thing for me...I want you to wear this plug, just for
tonight.  When we sleep together tonight, I want you to be reminded of what
happened here tonight and that my seed is still inside you.  I promise you
can remove it first thing in the morning.  Tomorrow, we'll take the next
step on your journey.  Together."

His words were ringing in my ears, "Tomorrow, we'll take the next step on
your journey.  Together."

I'd never worn (is worn even the right word?) a butt plug so the feeling
was strange, although not entirely uncomfortable.  It was just the right
size so that it stayed intact without stretching my hole too much and,
importantly, didn't allow Richard's seed to escape.  We showered together
and tenderly sponged each other off, paying close attention to our tired
cocks.  When he sponged my hole, he was careful not to dislodge the plug or
cause me any pain.  Now exhausted, we dried each other and crawled into bed
where he spooned me with a strong bearhug.  With his thick arms around me,
his hairy chest caressing my back and his semi-rigid cock pressed against
my protected hole, I felt completely at peace.  I wanted to stay awake all
night to savor the feeling, but I lost the battle, as the next thing I
remember was slowly waking with that strange, yet comforting sensation of a
butt plug up my ass. I quickly realized that Richard, who was still in the
position we fell asleep in, was now bent over my head and quietly gazing at
me. I wasn't startled, just delighted to find him so pleased he was waking
up next to me.  Seeing I had awoken, he began to gently caress my arms,
chest, shoulder and kissed my ear, neck and cheek. His hand slowly moved
down my nude body, up and down my leg, my inner thigh and then he
carefully, but firmly encircled my cock with his hand and slowly began to
stroke.  Since I was still plugged, his hard cock couldn't penetrate my
hole, but there was no question what he wanted.  And he wasn't alone.  I
was just as hard as he was.  He picked up the pace of his caressing, but
finally admitted with a smile, "We both need to pee and we need to get that
plug out of you. Let's head to the bathroom so we can get back to bed!"  In
a flash we both hopped out of bed into the bathroom where I sat on the
toilet and let the remnants of the night before out of my system.  While it
was a relief to remove the plug, in a strange way I regretted losing its
sensation given it was a constant reminder of what had resided there
earlier, Richard's cock and seed.  We both took a nice long pee, (he was so
hard I had to help aim his cock when he urinated), did a quick tooth
brushing and were back in bed in record time.

He rolled on top of me, where I hoped and expected he would mount me again,
just like last night.  But Richard had other ideas.  Straddling me, with
his cock laying on my chest, he asked rather abruptly, "Remember last night
when you came without either of us touching your cock?"

"Yes Daddy, that's never happened to me before.  I didn't even know it was
a thing."  I light-heartedly replied.

He smiled initially at my joke, but then suddenly turned stern, "The first
time I made you cum, I decided when you would cum.  I edged you until I was
ready for you to cum.  I decided."

"Yes sir", I replied, somewhat confused.

"And when you left that evening, I ordered you not to cum until we saw each
other again.  And from the volume of cum you blasted last night, I know you
obeyed.  Am I correct?"

"Yes sir", I replied again, with increasing concern.

"But last night, you came without my permission."  He paused and must have
noted my uneasiness. "Look, I understand that last night was special. It
was special for me as well. But as part of your journey, you need to agree
that only I decide when and where you sexually release.  Is that clear
Jarod?"

My intimal reaction was WTF, but at the same time the authority he was
exerting over me was intoxicating.  It made me want him more. This dynamic
wasn't anything I had ever contemplated, but when presented with it as I
was now, it was a huge fucking turn on.  I realized how much I wanted to
please him, and if submitting to his dominance would please him, I was all
in. "Of course, sir.  I completely understand."

"And...?" Richard asked.

Not exactly sure what answer he was looking for, I ventured, "And I promise
not to cum anywhere, anytime without your express permission", I guessed
right, because at that moment, he leaned down and kissed me tenderly.  That
kiss evolved into a passionate, sweaty, cock-grinding kiss make out
session, which, like everything else, I didn't want to stop.  But Richard
was in control, not me.  So I shouldn't have been surprised when he
abruptly pulled away from our embrace, rolled on his back and lovingly, but
somewhat roughly, grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down to his
groin. I could tell he was smiling when he said, "Get going boy, you have
work to do", and pushed my willing face directly onto his now engorged
cock.

Being under the covers, between my daddy's legs, salivating over his cock
made me feel like a whore, in the best possible way.  My submission was
exhilarating.  I couldn't wrap my mouth around his dripping cock deep
enough.  I became a man who hadn't eaten in weeks and Richard's cock was
the only nourishment available.  I worshipped it, longed for it.  I honored
it.  I fed on it.  I was so hungry my gag reflex nearly disappeared as I
rammed his cock further down my throat than I ever knew possible.

Richard's response was equally ravenous.  He moaned, he cried, he whelped,
he bucked his hips, he ordered me to stop.  He ordered me to never stop.
He ordered me to lick his hole.  He ordered me to lick his balls.  We both
were insatiable.  And even though I was the sub in this scenario, I knew I
was momentarily in control of his orgasm, and I wanted this to last. So I
pulled off him and slid back up so we were face to face.

Putting both hands on each side of my face, nearly with tears in his eyes,
he said, "Oh my boy, you are fucking out of this world.  Why did you stop?
I tell you when to stop.  I was about to unload on that beautiful face of
yours."

I had the courage to reply, "I know Richard, and forgive me for asking, but
I want us to suck each other together.  I want us to 69.  And I want us
both to take a hit of poppers when we do.  Can we, Daddy, please?" I
pleaded.

"Fuck yeah, boy" he smiled and ruffled my hair in a fatherly way.

I didn't know it, but he had a fresh bottle at his bedside which he reached
for.  He carefully opened it and offered it to me.  We each took two long
hits before we laid on our sides, mouths-to-cocks and lovingly began to
lick each other's cocks and balls.  Fortunately, both of our cocks bent
forward enough so the 69-ing wasn't uncomfortable.  The poppers sent us
into a heightened state where our cocks, and our cocks alone, became each
other's world.  Everything else disappeared.  We sucked and slurped with
alternating lust and tenderness, but always on the same wavelength.

After what may have been the most blissful period of my life, our mutual
orgasm was in sight, but not quite imminent.  Unexpectedly, he pulled away
and said, "That's enough.  You'll finish me off, but as punishment for
cumming last night without my permission, you'll have to wait.  I have
plans for you for later tonight, but as for now, you're having breakfast in
bed."

I was so fucking close to cumming I didn't quite know what to make of it.
My balls ached they were so full.  But when my hormones gave way to sanity,
I realized this was part of my training....learning to submit. And I still
had Richard's wonderfully veiny cock to feast on, which I relished.
Sensing my disappointment, Richard added, "But if you'd like another hit
while you finish me off...", and offered me the bottle of poppers.  I was
more than happy to take two more long hits, which made the finale of the
morning session even more exquisite.  As horny as I was, I was equally
satisfied just concentrating on nothing but getting this hunk of a man to
explode in my mouth.  Poppers take you to a wonderfully strange place, and
I was totally getting off on worshiping this man's cock.  It was me, and
only me who got to savor and swallow his creamy load.  That thought took me
to an even higher level of passion and when I got him to his point of no
return, he erupted with a force that, after last night, amazed me.  His
orgasm was epic, and I was the one, the one, who was the recipient of it.
There was no question in my mind that even though he didn't allow me to
cum, I enjoyed it as much as he did.

Continuing the precedent we had established in our short time together,
after he collected himself, he smiled, "I hope you saved some for me".  I
knew exactly what he meant so I slid up to him and kissed him with a
mouthful of his cum.  We lovingly sloshed it around our mouths, passing it
back and forth until we both gave up and swallowed his load.

I needed a nap after this exertion, but it was Saturday morning, and
Richard jumped out of bed and announced, "Let's go young man, I have a big
day planned for you".

Richard had a script for the day in which I happily played a leading role.
Casual quick breakfast, some shopping in which he insisted he buy me some
clothes for that night when he'd take me to his favorite club and, lastly,
a gay novelty shop in his neighborhood that included, among other things, a
wide variety of leather gear.  He noticed the quizzical look on my face
when we stepped into the leather section and asked, "Ever done this?"

"Not really", I responded, but added, "not that I wouldn't be interested.
I just never had the opportunity."

"You'll need it for tonight", he replied nonchalantly.

He knew the guys at the leather store and knew exactly what he wanted for
me that night.  He spoke to them privately and they assembled several items
that he agreed were "just right" for me that evening.  I didn't see them
but when packaged and presented to Richard, he simply looked at me and
said, "You'll like these, I promise." I was curious, maybe even suspicious,
but Richard had done nothing to betray my trust, so I was all in.  `Bring
it on' I thought to myself.

The two of us had spent a delightful day together eating, shopping, and
getting to know each other.  The time I spent with him outside his loft
that day was every bit as enjoyable and uplifting as the intimate times we
had spent together inside it.  At every turn, he inspired me with his
sophistication and mentorship, and he was equally taken with my
youthfulness and world view.  We were proving to be a good match.

Upon arriving home, although we were exhausted, he shared the plan for that
evening.  Quiet, not fancy dinner at home, out to a club to meet a few of
his buddies, and then back to his place for the next step in my journey to
heal.

He had never given me reason to distrust him so I amiably complied with the
plan for the evening.  After a lovely, low key dinner with a few glasses of
wine to warm us both up, Richard said, "Ok sport, time to get ready to meet
my friends.  I'm looking forward to seeing you in your new gear.  I have it
waiting for you on my bed."

"Yes, Daddy," I complied, only having a vague idea of what I'd find there.
Laid out on his bed was my gear for the evening: black leather jockstrap
with a removeable pouch, work boots, leather choker, and finally a leather
harness with a strap that dropped from the harness to a cock ring at the
end which, when worn, disappeared under my jock.  And, finally, a pair of
tight jeans.  Seeing the look on my face, Richard pulled me into him and
walked me through each item and reassured me he wasn't taking me to some
kinky dungeon where I'd be held hostage, just that it was leather night at
the bar where he was meeting his friends, and he wanted me to feel
comfortable.  "I'm proud of you, Jarod.  I want my buddies to see who I've
been talking about these past few weeks so they can meet you. The real fun
will start when we get back", he said mischievously.

Once again, he reassured me this all was a necessary step on my journey.
"Let's do it, Daddy", I smiled.

Richard could transform from lover to therapist in an instant.  Now he
magically transformed into concerned father as he helped me dress in this
unfamiliar gear.  Of key importance was making sure I got the cock ring on
while I was still soft.  Seeing all that leather gear made it difficult to
not get hard, but I finally got it around my cock.  Then I put on the
jockstrap, and he immediately cupped my leather-covered package and told me
how sexy I looked with the cock strap dropping from my harness down to my
jock.  "We all know what that strap is holding up," he said, referring the
now hidden cock ring.  He saved the leather choker for last and, was almost
ceremonial about latching it in the back of my neck.  "I own you when
you're wearing this."  Nothing else needed to be said.

He quickly changed himself into jeans, boots, a similar leather harness and
a leather armband around his right bicep.  I didn't need to know leather
and hanky code to know what his right bicep meant; he had made that
abundantly clear last night.  Fuck, did he look hot.  For having virtually
no experience in the leather scene, I could feel my dick rapidly hardening
inside my leather jock. Thank god the pouch was removeable; if I kept going
at this pace it might just pop off.

Richard grabbed me by the leather strap that connected the harness to my
balls and said, "Let's go stud.  And remember, I own you."

It was a short ride to the bar where we'd meet his friends, The Ramrod (the
name came as no surprise to me).  His hand was clasped to the collar in the
back of my head as we walked in, clearly signaling ownership and said,
"Remember, short evening here.  I just want my friends to get a good look
at you.  I'll tell you more about that in coming days."  I should've been
more curious about what that meant but having just entered the dark bar
crowded with so many leather clad (and barely clad) hot men, I was
distracted, to say the least.  Many older, in various shapes and sizes and
most of them incredibly hot.  The smell of beer, leather, cigar smoke and
the faint undertone of what smelled suspiciously like cum was intoxicating.
My senses were assaulted in the best possible way.  I could feel myself
getting harder by the second and was thankful the leather jock, while
pressing uncomfortably against my erection, at least concealed it.

We walked through the long bar and, not seeing them, Richard remarked,
"They're probably out on the deck" and led me out the door to an elevated
deck which was less crowded.  "Hey, you assholes," Richard greeted them and
gave them each a big hug.  I stood back and couldn't help but check each
one out closely.  Before I could make a real assessment, Richard grabbed me
by the leather strap running down my torso and pulled me over to them
saying, "Here he is gentlemen.  This is young Jarod. I was right, wasn't
I?"  he asked.  I could only assume that was a compliment, so I went with
it and brought my hand up to greet them each with a handshake.  There were
three sets of eyeballs intensely scrutinizing me and their reaction ranged
from curiosity to intrigue to lust (or was that my imagination?). "Fuck
yeah Daddy," one of them remarked.  A second one, caressing my naked (but
thankfully muscled) chest under my harness said, "Now that's one smooooooth
young lad."  The last one finally added "He'll do just fine Richard, just
fine."  WTF were they talking about?  Before I could contemplate the
innuendo, I was getting an eyeful of what a sexy trio of men they were.
Each in the expected leather/jeans uniform and all insanely hot, each in
their own way.  Richard introduced me first to Steve, an exceptionally
tall, magnificently muscled, astonishingly beautiful black man.  Early 50s,
think Idris Elba, but gay, rough, and even more muscled.  He wore tight
jeans and was shirtless.  I don't know if he was sweating or he had
intentionally oiled himself, but the muscles in his arms and torso
glistened in the moonlight.  And just like Richard, broad shoulders, narrow
waist, with huge veins protruding down each bicep.  I tried my best, but I
couldn't resist looking down.  I was embarrassed that I so obviously was
checking him out, and I wasn't disappointed.  He had a bulge in his jeans
that he was clearly proud of and had every right to be.  Standing next to
Steve, Richard then introduced me to "Little Marco".  Presumably he was
"little" because at about 5'9", he was dwarfed by his friends.  I learned
Marco, who looked late 40s was a former rugby player which explained his
thick legs and incredibly muscled ass. His Italian heritage explained the
rest...thick, black curly hair, 5 o'clock shadow which was either styled to
look like that or he just needed a shave.  Either way it was hot.  And
chest, arms and legs covered in curly black hair.  He was even more
charming than Steve and when he greeted me I couldn't help but think of
Mark Ruffalo, but a lot beefier.  It was hard to take my eyes off him
because, like Steve he was shirtless, but he was wearing a leather
jockstrap and chaps.  Just as I noticed that, Richard laughed, "C'mon
Marco, turn around and show Jarod that sweet ass of yours."  Marco happily
turned around to reveal he was, indeed wearing assless chaps and a jock
strap which beautifully framed his ass to everyone in the bar.  Lastly,
Richard introduced Beast, whose name accurately captured his physical
presence.  6'2"ish, probably 275 pounds of muscle.  Not body building
muscle, but that big, round solid muscle.  Grey buzz cut, short trimmed
grey beard, and wearing a black leather biker cap, he looked like he was
about Richard's age, late 50s.  He had a burning cigar gripped in his teeth
which he removed with one of his bear-like hairy hands and extended the
other to greet me.  Like the others he was shirtless, and I saw that both
nipples were pierced with what appeared to be circular barbells.  His
appearance signaled that he was rough, almost scary, but he pulled me into
him with a warm bear hug and whispered, "Keep doing whatever you're doing
young Jarod.  I've never seen Richard happier."  Then he cupped my ass and
pressed his middle finger through my jeans into my hole and added, "And I'd
love a piece of that too, boy."  He gave me one more squeeze before letting
me go and gave me a wink as I released.  He reminded me of a kinky Santa
Clause.

Richard left to get a round of beers so I was on my own with his friends.
They worked hard to make me comfortable.  Maybe too hard?  Was I imagining
they were coming on to me?  At one point Steve asked if Richard liked to
"share".  Little Marco kept telling me how he loves to go assless at places
like this, saying suggestively, "Fresh air on my hole is one of my many
turn-ons.  But fresh air isn't the only thing I like touching my hole".
After Beast's comment earlier, was there some nefarious reason I was
meeting these guys?

About then Richard arrived with the beers and the conversation lightened up
to more generic topics, but I couldn't help but feel that, although we
hadn't been there long, Richard was antsy to get going.  I had mixed
feelings.  On one hand, the vibe at the leather bar was hot and I enjoyed
getting to experience it.  But on the other, Richard had made insinuations
that what he had in store for me that night was even hotter than the
previous nights.  The very thought of what may happen made me hard.

In no time Richard gulped the rest of his beer, pulled me into him and gave
me a passionate open-mouth kiss on the lips.  "Eat your hearts out men" he
chided Steve, Marco and Beast.  "Jarod and I have business to attend to".
Then, he turned to me, grabbed the back of my collar and ordered, "Let's
go, boy."

Although the drive home was short, it seemed to drag on forever.  I just
wanted to be nude, on my back, legs spread, my Daddy fucking me.  Hard.
There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him that night.  And I learned
quickly that what he was planning would make a rough fuck look like a peck
on the cheek.

We said little on the car ride home, but when we finally arrived, he
stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said,
"Jarod, tonight we're taking the next step.  And it's significant.  Tonight
you learn that you can turn the pain your father inflicted on you into
pleasure.  It won't be easy, but I believe you will not only endure it, but
it will expand your horizons and you will be a better man because of it."

Not knowing what to expect, I was at a loss for words.  Richard spoke
again, "I'll go slow, I promise.  And I will stop anytime you say the word.
The word you will say to have me stop is `red'.  If you say that word, I
stop.  No questions asked.  Are you ready to go forward?"

Breathless, I choked out the words, "Yes, sir."

"Good, son.  See that door over there" he motioned to his head the door in
the wall I'd noticed earlier that seemed odd in this otherwise open-plan
loft.

"Yes sir," I answered more as a question, than in the affirmative.

"Behind that door is the next step in your journey."

End of Chapter 8