“Boy, boy please, I can’t…this isn’t who I’m supposed to be! This isn’t right, you can’t just do this to people,” Carson pleaded, as they walked down the row of cells. “Boy, I’m…I’m your daddy, and you should listen to what I’m telling you.” He was trying to be assertive, but no matter what, his old mouth could only sound mealy.
“No, you’re my daddy now,” the boy said, shooting him a glance with his eyes, “and that means, from now on, you’ll be doing what I say, and thinking what I want you to think, just like all of my daddies.”
The man Carson had arrested–his fellow daddy Emil, apparently–was in one of the last cells, and Carson could hear activity in there. He discovered that the door to the cell was wide open, and two of his fellow officers were inside, fucking Emil from both ends, the old pig moaning in between them. He saw his boy there, and his eyes went wide–he pushed the two officers away, and they stumbled back in a daze, and he got on his knees in front of his boy, then bowed to him, muttering and whimpering. “Please boy, please–he just resisted me, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t come home! I’m sorry for calling you, for making you leave, I’m sorry, please, I…I made some more money for you!” he pulled a wad of cash from a pocket, “There’s so many young, strapping men in here, and they’ve all been paying me, all evening! Please…I don’t…I was doing so good…”
“It’s alright, Emil,” the boy said, allowing Emil to kiss his shoe, “I know it wasn’t your fault. We’ll be going home now–Jefferson’s waiting in the car for me, and you’ll have to drive home by yourself.”
Emil nodded, “Thank you, my boy, thank you…”
I’m sure none of you officers will have a problem letting my daddy go? You aren’t going to be pressing any charges, right?”
The two officers shook their heads no, still trying to figure out what had happened.
“Run along Emil.”
“But…but boy, they weren’t finished, and they didn’t pay me yet.”
“It’s alright–go home. You’ve had a long day.”
Emil got up and left the building, passing by Carson on the way, and when their eyes met, Emil’s seemed…haughty. “Oh…Oh I see what our boy did, such a clever boy!” he said, laughing, “I’ll see you at home!”
Carson felt his eyes drawn back to his boy, their eyes meeting once more. “You’ll be finishing these men for Emil, won’t you Carson? You do love having men abuse those old holes of yours, after all, just like all of my daddies.”
The twisting was there, but not as violent. It was…hardly much of a shift, really, but when Carson looked away and at his two fellow officers, their cocks hanging out of their pants, he started to salivate.
“And you two–do be rough with him. He’s been a very naughty daddy, and he needs a bit of rough treatment, don’t you Carson? You like it rough, don’t you?”
He should run, he needed to fight this, but before he could do anything, the two officers grabbed him, and shoved him up against the bars of the cell, handcuffing his wrists high, and tearing down his pants. One got behind him and rammed his cock into Carson’s ass, hard–making him groan–but it didn’t hurt nearly as badly as he wanted it to. No, he was…this body was already well broken in, after all, and he did like it rough and brutal. His voice was demanding the two officers rape him harder, really give it to him, beat him like the bad, naughty daddy he is. While the first fucked him, the other started biting and twisting at his nipples, calling him all sorts of filthy names, and after the first finished, they switched roles, all under the boy’s supervision and encouragement. As the second officer was getting close to finishing, however, the boy walked around, inside the cell so he was facing Carson through the bars, and their eyes met again. He could feel the world beginning to dissolve all over again, and he started to cry.
“Please…I’m sorry boy, please…”
“Don’t worry–as long as you keep me happy, you’ll be well taken care of, daddy.”
The words didn’t seem to come from the boy’s mouth, but from everywhere around him. He lost track of everything–he couldn’t even really feel much of the cock still lodged in his hole. This time, he could feel reality growing even further away from what he’d been before, more and more of himself lost to the strange void of the boy’s eyes, and when everything stopped, he just collapsed, hanging by the handcuffs, sobbing for the loss of something he couldn’t even really remember all that well–after all, Carson’s memory was shot from all the liquor he drank, right?
“Thanks officers, that’s just what my daddy needed,” the boy said. That’ll be twenty dollars from you both, of course–can’t have daddies getting fucked for free, right?”
The two officers exchanged confused glances, and then pulled out their wallets. One handed him a twenty, while the other just stared at the empty wallet. “I…I don’t have a twenty, I’m sorry.”
“Then here’s what we’ll do, officer. Go to an ATM tonight, and pull out at least forty dollars. A daddy will come by tomorrow to give you a blowjob in the restroom–and will be coming by every day from now on. You’ll be paying him forty dollars–for this fuck and tomorrow’s–and always have at least twenty dollars in cash on you from now on, understand? Now, I need to get going. Please release my daddy, if you would.”
The officers did so, and Carson slumped to the floor–confused, horny, desperate for a beer and a smoke–and his boy got down beside him. “You’ll come straight home, understand?”
“Yes boy.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon. We’ll discuss your punishment there, understand?”
“Yeah boy. I understand.”
“You won’t forget? I know you’re a stupid fucking faggot.”
“I won’ boy, I promise. I’ll hold on real good, cause ya told me to.”
“You’d fucking better.”
Bracken's Corner 