Look, I’ve worked hard my whole life. I saved my money so I could retire and move into a neighborhood like this, a neighborhood where I expected there to be some standards, where I could expect quiet weekends, not like the city apartments I’d grown up in, listening to rude neighbors and loud parties while I was just trying to relax after a long week. Things had changed, however–some people just didn’t know how to respect others at all. Such was the case with my next door neighbor’s bratty son, currently a sophomore in some expensive ivy league college he didn’t deserve to be attending, but now home for the summer making me miserable. His parents were nice enough, but they were jet setters–which meant that nearly every weekend was spent in some other luxurious resort or foreign country, leaving their house in the hands of their irresponsible son, and the parties! They shook the foundations, I swear, and the cops wouldn’t do anything about it, since his father was very active in local politics. So I decided, one week, that I’d had enough.
I had a friendly chat with his father, asking about their future travel plans–they were taking a long weekend to London in a few weeks, leaving Thursday and returning Monday morning–more than enough time for my plan to work. You see, I inherited from my grandfather a…peculiar knack for magic. It had served me well in life, when I needed it–of course I got to where I was through my diligence and strength of character, but the extra boost on occasion did help, I must admit, but I hadn’t seen fit to use it in years. I dusted off my grimoires and brushed up on the various spells I’d be needing, and on the Friday morning after his parents had left for London, there was a ring from the doorbell, and an anonymous gift left on the doorstep–a small package, rather innocuous, with his name, “Albert” on the tag. I counted on him being more greedy than he was suspicious–it was an easily winnable bet, and he disappeared inside with my gift as I watched from the sidewalk, invisible to any normal person’s naked eye.
I waited a few hours. A few excruciatingly long hours, for someone who has some experience waiting. I suppose you don’t know very much about me, now do you? I probably look like I’m in my sixties to you–but the truth is I’m ninety-seven this year–thanks to a good dose of magic on occasion. That said, I enjoy being older–my portly gut, my hairy belly, relaxing around my lavish house smoking any number of pipes from my exquisitely curated collection. Yes, I’m a lifelong pipe smoker–every man needs a vice, right? I have hundreds in my possession, and I know all of them well, but I can sacrifice something I love in order to get what I want, on occasion.
As afternoon settled into evening, I walked from my house, no longer invisible, wearing one of my suits and carrying another package, looking like everything is perfectly normal, and knock on my neighbor’s door. And then I knock again. I can feel him in there, sense that his mind is…somewhat preoccupied, and give him a telepathic nudge as I knock a third time. A few moments later, I hear the lock in the door turn, and it opens, revealing Albert, one of my pipes locked in his teeth, billowing smoke. He’s naked, and from how he’s breathing, I can tell that I just interrupted him jacking off. He’d probably been jacking off for quite a while at this point, judging from redness of his shaft, but that isn’t all that’s happened to him.
Albert had always been chubby, with a shaved head and face, and a mostly smooth body I’d noticed watching him swim in the pool his parents kept in the backyard. However, nearly all of that had changed. He had a full beard, already several inches long. Hair had filled in all over his body, most noticeably in a thick bush around his cock, and he’s packed on close to fifty pounds, a huge belly jutting out in front of him, along with flabby moobs pierced with two metal rings he hadn’t had earlier. He stares at me, not knowing what to think of me anymore, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering over my own pipe and gut, until he mutters a one word question, “D-Daddy?”
“What of it, boy?” I ask, reaching out and twisting one of his nipple rings. He grabs my hand and pulls me inside, shutting the door behind us, gets down on the entry rug, his ass towards me, and who am I to resist such an invitation? The boy has needed a good fucking over for ages, really, and he groans and grunts like a pig, chuffing out smoke like a life long addict, and I watch his hair spread over his back and ass, his beard growing even longer. He cums several times just from my big cock buried in his ass, spoiling his parent’s obviously Persian rug, before I cum deep inside him.
“Tell me boy,” I ask, huffing after I pull my cock from his hole, “are you having one of your parties tonight?”
“Yes…yes, daddy.”
“Good, because it’s going to be a party you and all of your obnoxious friends won’t be forgetting for a long, time. Now go get dressed, we have to get ready for the party, don’t we?”
He stands up, my cum dribbling down one leg, and he turns to me. I can tell he wants to fight it, that he wants to yell and scream, but when I lean in and kiss him, shoving my smoke into his lungs, he simply melts into me, hungry for smoke, hungry for cock, hungry for daddy. So much hungrier than angry, and when we break apart, the thought of fighting has dissipated again. I put my suit back together, and drop the package at his feet. “Here are your party clothes, boy. I have some stuff to bring over, and I expect you to be dressed by the time I get back.”
Indeed. I had initially planned on just taking Albert down a notch or two, but as I’d been dipping my toes into magic again, I’d thought–why stop at Albert? All of his friends deserved a little comeuppance too. And so, I came back with a whole box filled with little gifts, and to find Albert fully dressed in his new leather chaps, vest, boots and collar. I checked his hole as well, and he’d even put in the buttplug without argument–such a good boy already. I set him to the work of filling in the gift tags with the names of all the boys he knew would be attending tonight’s party, while I got to work on the house. We only had a few hours after all, and we had to make sure everything was perfect.
Bracken's Corner 