When Nick moved back in with his father, after college, because he couldn’t find a job that paid him enough to live on his own, he immediately noticed that his father had struck up a friendship with a neighbor who had moved next door while Nick was at school. His dad wouldn’t say much about him, but the two of them would spend hours in the neighbor’s garage, and every time his dad came home, he’d reek of cigars and beer–things his father never would have touched when Nick was a kid, before his mom left them.
His dad had changed a bit too–he’d grown a beard, he’d quit his job as an accountant and worked as a delivery truck driver–something Nick told him was below his level of intellect…but the more he talked with his dad, the less he was sure of that. His dad didn’t seem too…smart all of a sudden. The man who’d taught him to build electric circuit boards when he was a teenager couldn’t figure out simple math problems. He sounded like some…hick.
He was certain something was going on, and he was going to figure out what it was. One morning, after Mr. Pescole, the neighbor, had left for work, he noticed that he’d left his garage door open. Curious, he went over, slipped inside, and closed it behind him, planning on just taking a little peek–when someone came up and forced something over his head. He fought whoever it was, but…but whatever it was, the mask, it was making his head hurt, it was making him…horny. He got down on his hands and knees, snorting, ripping at his clothes, the mysterious man tearing them away, and then forcing something else on him, these leather straps, but Nick didn’t care–Nick just wanted to cum.
There was the sound of a camera taking a picture, then he heard his father’s voice.
“Sir, he came, just like you thought he would.”
“All…all day? But, I only wore it for a few hours, I mean…”
“Yeah…I mean, yes sir, sorry sir. I understand, I’ll be punished when you get home, yes. We’ll be here.”
Nick tried to speak, but all he could do was grunt and moan. His body was hot, he could…feel something pushing from his skin, hairs. His father got down and wrapped his hand around Nick’s cock, his son thrusting into his fist until he shot a load all over the garage floor.
“I’m…sorry son. But Master–try not to worry, you’ll like it. There…won’t be much of you left, I don’t think, but you’ll be happy. I promise.”