They reached their destination floor after a few moments, and stepped out onto a level of the ship Samuel hadn’t explored–and he realized a minute later, after walking across the plush carpet in his bare feet, looking at the gold trimmings and elegant decor, that he was probably not even supposed to be aware that this floor existed. It wasn’t like Samuel and Jeremy hadn’t splurged on decent tickets, booking a fairly large room with an ocean view right below the main deck, but he had seen those astronomical VIP packages on the website…is this what that bought?
The waiter rounded a corner, and Samuel followed, finding himself in a spacious, high ceilinged lounge–or whatever you might call something between a restaurant, bar, and bathhouse. There was a haze of smoke hanging in the air, a mix of pot and tobacco, and in the haze he could see men lying around the room, fucking, relaxing, and looking out the windows through binoculars at the deck below–where Samuel had been lying a moment earlier–occasionally consulting a small tablet they had with them.
The waiter led him close by the window, where an older man was sprawled across a fluffy sofa, wearing a silk robe which had fallen open, exposing most of his body for anyone to see. He was…not quite Samuel’s type. He usually went for muscle bears like himself. A bit of a gut was alright, as long as the guy could carry it well, but anything like this man–Mr. Bishop, the waiter had been calling him–was quite simply out of the question. He likely weighed close to 450, or perhaps even 500 pounds, the rolls of flab cascading around him, almost like he was a massive pillow, a part of the sofa itself. The one thing standing apart, quite literally, was the massive, erect cock jutting out from the flabby rolls. It was…impossibly large, at least a foot, if not longer. Realizing he’d been staring at the cock a bit longer than he’d like, he jerked his eyes away, taking in the flabby body coated with a thick layer of grey hair, and up to his face. He had a thick, well trimmed beard, glasses, and was smoking a cigar. Mr. Bishop smiled when he saw Samuel there, and set down the glass of whiskey he’d been sipping. “Ah, I can’t believe it! I’d never thought a lawyer–but then, hope springs eternal. Come boy, have a seat with me, don’t be shy.”
Samuel tried to resist, but like before, his body was far more keen to obey Mr. Bishop’s voice than his own desires. He sat down, gently, on the edge of the sofa, only for Mr. Bishop to grab him and pull him back, so he was reclining against his fat body.
“Is there anything else I can do for you sir? Someone else for your package perhaps?”
“Oh no, Samuel here will suffice. Though do schedule an appointment for him in the Salon, in one hour.”
“Of course, Mr. Bishop. A pleasure, as always, to have you sailing with us.”
The waiter left, and Samuel heaved himself up and away from the man, tried to stand, but his ass stayed stubbornly planted on the sofa. “Please, I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m…flattered, really, but this isn’t what I thought this was.”
Mr. Bishop laughed, smoke pouring from his mouth. It’s alright boy, I’ll be happy to answer some questions for you, in a moment. First, however, I want to…take care of a few things. Samuel, please go unaware for programming.”
He had no clear recollection of what happened next. He seemed to be…floating. Present, but everything in his mind turned off, and open. Mr. Bishop was speaking to him, and he would respond on occasion, but it seemed…unimportant. Natural. And when he awoke, a few minutes later, this loss of memory didn’t unnerve him–even though he knew it should terrify him out of his wits. He was standing now, looking down at the fat man, still reclining in front of him, like nothing strange had happened at all. “What…just happened?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Mr. Bishop said, waving a bit of smoke away with a hand, “Now, I’ll answer a few questions for you, at least, until you can’t control yourself any longer, and have your way with me, boy.”
He leaned on that last word a bit, and when he did, a mild shot of pleasure raced through Samuel’s body, from the top of his spine, right to his cock, and he moaned, breath quickening. He looked at Mr. Bishop again–no, at…at Daddy again, and…and where before he’d been quite turned off, he found himself beginning to appreciate the man’s appearance a bit more than he had. “What…why did that feel so good?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. Every time I address you, boy, you’re going to feel an escalating sensation of pleasure, and find me more and more attractive each time. We’ll see how long before you can’t stop yourself from climbing up and fucking yourself on my massive daddy cock, boy, like the slut you’re going to be, soon enough.”
Those two slammed into him with more force than the first. Samuel’s cock was hard, his ass twitching, and looking at Mr. Bishop now…fuck, he suddenly was finding the old, fat fuck attractive. He shook his head, trying to clear it as best he could, fighting whatever was happening to him. He needed answers. “Please, please stop this, this isn’t what I wanted.”
“Silly boy, you still think this cruise is about what you want?” Mr. Bishop saw Samuel’s knees start shaking. Mr. Bishop heaved himself forward on the couch, grabbed Samuel by the crotch, and pulled him closer. He stumbled forward, and collapsed in front of him, on his knees, staring at…at all of that fat. But he didn’t want this…right? “I can see how you might make that mistake, and think that the fantasy in the name of the company implies a fantasy for everyone. And sure, mid level guys like you, there are a few fantasies for you, boy, like that whore who talked your husband into bed with him, and that bear you were eyeing down at the pool. Sluts, hired by the company, to please upper deck passengers, and you never even know it. But no, the real fantasies that come true, boy? You have to be a real VIP for that, like me. And my fantasies? They’re rather…complicated.”
Samuel had stopped listening. He was too busy ripping off his swimsuit and climbing up, straddling his daddy’s massive frame and slowly dropping himself onto his massive cock, not even taking the time to lube it up with more than a handful of spit. He needed it inside him, needed this beautiful daddy to fuck him. The waiter arrived an hour later, to remind Mr. Bishop of his appointment at the VIP Salon, and he led Samuel away, towards the back of the ship, for his first proper makeover.
Bracken's Corner 