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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Derrick Gets a Father
by Mwriter65 (mwriter65@live.com)
***
Derrick, an orphan who is struggling with his sexuality,
runs away from his foster home looking for a new life.
Unfortunately he runs into the wrong man. (Mm-teen,
underage, nc, bd)
***
Author Note: The following story is fiction. It is
totally a product of imagination. It involves sexually
explicit erotic events between adolescents and men. It
involves bondage, and non consensual sex, as well as
sexual humiliations. I will also contain anything else
I can think of as the story goes on. It is definitely
authoritarian in nature so if that's not your bag move
on. If you are offended by such material or are too
young, live where it is not allowed to read the story,
don't read on. No one was harmed in the writing of this
story.
Comments are always welcome as long as they are not
nasty. mwriter65@live.com
***
Archivist note: No actual sex in the first past, it
appears to be a setup for future episodes.
***
PART 1
After a year of construction, my custom built home was
complete. Just shy of my fortieth birthday, I was hit by
a drunk driver while on my motorcycle. Unfortunately I
would walk with a slight limp the rest of my life.
Fortunately, the drunk who hit me was driving a company
truck for a large national delivery firm, and the out of
court settlement was enough for me to retire early and
pursue my real interests without worry of income for the
rest of my life.
My new house was in western Montana. I was lucky enough
to find a piece of land close by to other like-minded
friends of mine, close enough to Missoula, but still
nicely out in the country. My friends helped me with the
design, one of whom was a professional architect, the
others pointing out what they would have done
differently on their own homes when they built them.
To the casual visitor, this the basement would appear
normal, if not very well thought out. When you entered
the basement, it appeared to be just a cozy game room,
with a big screen, pool table and nice comfy couches,
with a wet bar in the corner. Right out of the movies,
though, I had a secret door hidden in a book shelve.
Instead of pulling the right book or whatever, mine is
controlled by punching in the correct PIN code on the TV
remote.
Once the bookshelf rotated, you could enter the real
reason I had built the house. The finishing touches on
this part of the basement were completed by my friends,
as I didn't want the workers to be going home and
talking about what they saw. The custom furnishings were
completed on site, and at the housewarming, I was able
to test some of the more "custom" bits of furniture on
my friend's boys.
You see the basement, normal from first glance,
contained a very well equipped dungeon. It had computer
controlled lighting throughout so I could create any
mood I chose, as well as being photographer friendly. It
was complete with everything one would expect. In the
center of the main room, was a large low wooden table,
equipped with a motorized winch to pull the restraint
chains to the desired length. Several trapeze were
suspended my motorized cables over drains installed in
the concrete floor.
There was a pillory, made from sturdy oak bolted to the
floor, as well as several sets of different stocks that
could be hung from chains, or just placed over the boys'
bodies as the master would have. There was a shower in
the corner, equipped with eyebolts to restrain, if
required.
There were also three cells, equipped with sturdy iron
bars, small cots and a "bomb site" toilets that would
require squatting over. Along the far wall was storage
for every imaginable bit of fetish gear a perv like me
could dream of.
Off the main dungeon room, another part of the basement
contained a fully equipped photography studio. I
planned to supplement my income with photography that
would sell well in eastern Europe and Asia, so I made it
state of the art. In the photo studio was a large walk
in closet to contain the wardrobe for my subjects, once
I could get their measurements. I had a tailor friend in
New York who specialized in what I had in mind.
Because while it is obvious I am into bondage, I also
have many other fetishes. Besides restraining boys in
leather and chains, I like boys in uniforms, I liked
forcing boys to wear girls clothes, I liked to age
regress boys, I liked doggie train boys; in fact, as
long as it both mortified the boy and turned me on, I
was into it! I was sure I would find other things I
liked to do with my boys as well.
With the contacts I had, I was planning to sell plenty
of pictures and movies of my boys in every imaginable
painful, embarrassing, humiliating, erotic situation I
could think of, as I knew there were others just like me
out there. I just needed to get one! For years I could
only act out my fantasies through the internet or a few
very expensive nights with rent boys willing to submit
to my whims for huge amounts of cash. It was time for me
to train a boy of my own.
Now when I say boy, I should explain. I am not into
little boys, but rather young guys in their mid teens. I
wanted my boy to be a raging pile of hormones. What I
wanted was an insecure sixteen year old gay boy, who I
could turn into my submissive surrogate son.
So now that I had the home of my perverted dreams, It
was time to go on the hunt. Now before you think I am a
totally horrible person, I had no intention of keeping
anyone long term against their will. Oh sure, I might
have to convince them that they wanted to stay, but it
would definitely be in their best interest. I wanted a
street kid, who had no prospect of a better life. That
way at least, I wouldn't feel so bad about what I was
about to do. So I got in my van and headed west.
It is roughly a seven hour drive from my house to
Seattle. I wanted to cast my net a good distance from
where I lived, and let's be honest, Montana is not a hot
bed of teenage runaways. Yes Seattle would fit the bill
perfectly.
I booked a cheap motel and paid with cash. I planned on
scouting for a couple of days and then making the drive
back home non-stop. It was actually a nice little
vacation, wandering the streets of neighborhoods I knew
would attract what I was looking for. The second morning
there I settled into a chair in a coffee shop across
from a gay bookstore. I noticed a kid leaning against
the wall next to the door of the bookstore.
He was glancing all around him, like he didn't want
someone to see him there. He looked about sixteen, with
dark blond curls showing out the front of the gray
hoodie he had pulled over his head. He was also wearing
ragged cargo pants and well worn Van's slip on skater
shoes. I couldn't tell much more from the distance I was
at, so when he went into the bookstore, I picked up my
coffee and headed across the street.
I walked into the cozy bookshop, said hello to the guy
at the register and walked over to near where my kid was
browsing the aisles. I didn't want to get too close to
him a spook him. He looked incredibly nervous just being
in the store.
I did get a closer look at him though. He had very blue
eyes and a slight case of acne. Nothing too bad, just
normal teenage boy acne. I noticed his nails were dirty
and his clothes obviously hadn't been washed in a while.
He looked unwashed and underweight. Obviously a street
kid or at the very least his home life was a shambles.
I had to hide a chuckle as he pretended not to be trying
to scope out the row of porno mags along the wall. Not
for long though as the clerk walk up to him and preened,
"Honey, I told you, you cant hang out around the adult
section. Sorry sweetie."
Ugh, I thought to myself. Did everyone who worked in
these places have to pass a queen test before getting
hired?
The boy looked mortified he had been busted, apparently
not for the first time. He mumbled an apology to the
clerk, and looking down at his dirty sneakers started
heading for the door. Perfect I thought. He didn't
protest his innocence or fight back in anyway, he just
gave up and left. Nice and submissive I thought. I bet
we was hungry too. I waited just long enough not be
obvious I was following the boy and walked out of the
shop after him hoping he hadn't gone far. He hadn't.
He was sitting around the corner against the wall
looking very depressed. I walked up to him, and stood
over him, until he noticed me, looking up at me
startled.
"Hey kid," I said. "You look like you could use a meal.
Can I buy you lunch?"
He continued staring at me, obviously hungry but wary at
what my motive was. If he only knew. "What do I have to
do for it?" he asked. His voice was kind of high and
soft.
"For lunch? Nothing. I saw you in the bookstore, and
felt bad for you. It sucks to be young sometimes," I
chuckled.
His face flushed a deep red. Even better I thought, he
blushes! Perfect! "Come on kid, you should eat. It's
cold out here anyways." I put out my hand, he hesitated
slightly before grabbing it and pulling himself to his
feet. He was about 5'6" and maybe 120 pounds. "I'm
Martin," I said introducing myself.
"Oh, uh, I'm Derrick," he said as he started walking
with me.
"Nice to meet you Derrick," I said. "So you live around
here?"
"Uh, well sort of," he started. "I guess I do now."
"Fair enough, none of my business," I said, trying to
put him at ease.
There was a Burger King up the street. Not my normal
taste, but I couldn't really take him anywhere else,
looking the way he was. After I bought us a couple of
value meals and sat down inside with him, I noticed he
didn't smell so good either.
I let him eat in silence, actually enjoying the show as
he laid waste to a double whopper in record time. Not
until he was on this third coke did I ask him, "So how
long you been out on the streets Derrick?"
His eyes started to water. "I left a foster home in
Portland a week ago. The other guys in the house, they
kept beating me up. I'm too old, no one would ever adopt
me, the bastards that ran the place didn't care what
happened to me as long as they got their check. So I
waited till everyone was asleep one night and just took
off and hitched my way up here."
Perfect again I thought to myself. He was a runaway,
but from a foster home. Not many would be looking for
him, and certainly not in rural Montana.
"I have a proposition for you Derrick."
"Sorry Martin, I don't do that kind of thing."
"You don't even know what I am going to propose."
"I may have only been on the street for a couple of
weeks, but I know what old guys like you want from kids
like me."
Again, if he only knew. "Nothing like that I assure you
Derrick. I was just going to let you come back to my
place and take a shower, then let you wash your clothes.
No funny business, and if you want to earn some money, I
have some painting that needs to be done." Which was
only partly a lie, I had plenty of funny business in
mind, but I also did have some painting that needed
doing.
"Well," I could tell he was thinking. He had to be
broke, and if he didn't want to be sucking cock in dark
alleys for his next meal, he needed to do something
quick.
"I guess I could use some money. How much are you
talking about?"
"We can discuss that when you see the job. What do you
say. I have a nice place out in the country. You will
love it. No strings attached. Make up your mind though,
I have to get home now, and I am not coming back here to
look for you."
I could almost see the little devil on one side and the
little angel on the other arguing in his head. Every bit
of common sense told him not to trust me. But he was
hungry and cold, and it was starting to rain again in
Seattle. The devil won. "Okay Martin," he said. "You got
a deal."
"Great!" I said, and to put him at ease I pulled five
twenties out of my wallet. "Here's an advance, just so
you know I'm serious."
His eyes grew wide and he gently took the money and
stuff it in his front pocket. "Follow me, my van is
right around the corner." He followed me out into the
rain, and I he was relived to see I drove a rather
ordinary looking Honda minivan. Well ordinary to the
casual observer. I had made some modifications that
would be apparent to Derrick at the appropriate time.
I made a casual glance around to see the alley was
deserted where my van was parked. Good, no witnesses. I
hit the button and unlocked the doors. I got in at the
same time as Derrick. "Fasten your seatbelt. I don't
want to get a ticket."
Little did he know that once he locked his seatbelt,
only I could unlock it. I fired up the van, put some
classic rock on the stereo and headed out into traffic.
Derrick was quiet, looking out the window and not at me
as I headed toward I-90. Once I got on the freeway and
settled down for the long drive I looked over and
noticed the boy's knees were knocking. He was very
nervous.
"Uh, how far away do you live anyways?" He asked.
"Montana," I answered casually.
"Montana! I can't go there! I don't want to go there.
Pull over and let me out Martin, right now." he said.
"I'm afraid I can't Derrick. You gave me your word and
took my money. Your days of running from your problems
are over. I'm going to teach you how to be a man
Derrick, but before that, you need to learn to be a
proper boy first."
I was going 70 on the freeway, and I could tell he was
trying to figure out his options. He couldn't bail out
of the van, and as he soon found out, he couldn't even
get his seat belt off or open his door. I had control of
all that. He started fighting furiously with the
seatbelt.
"Let me the fuck out Martin! This isn't funny. You can't
do this to me!"
"Let's get a few things straight. From now on you will
address me as father. I'm your new father Derrick, and I
am going to raise you right. Second watch your mouth.
You're too young to use that kind of language and if you
curse again, I will punish you severely. Do we
understand each other?"
He tried to use his left hand to grab at the wheel, but
I was ready for just such an attack and grabbed his
wrist. I may have a bum leg, but I upper arm strength is
excellent, and it was no problem holding back a
malnourished teenage boy. My hand encircled his wrist
entirely and I was able to bring it down to the waiting
handcuff. With one end already attached to the ring in
the vans floor, I steered with my knees as I snapped the
cuff onto his wrist effectively pinning his hand down by
his side.
"I was hoping we could do this the easy way Derrick, but
like all little boys you don't want to listen to your
elders." I could tell this kind of talk was pissing him
off, but he couldn't figure out what to do next. This
was all happening too fast for him. I reached into my
door pocket and pulled out a syringe. "Time for you to
take a nap Derrick."
I jammed the hypo through his pants into his thigh.
"OWWW! Fuck! What the hell did you do?" He screeched in
his cute little voice. "That fucking hurt!"
"That my friend, was a sedative. Since you are moving
around so much I had to put it in you intramuscularly,
so it will take a bit to take effect, but a your weight,
you should be out in about 10 minutes."
He was crying now. "You bastard! You said no funny
business. You lied to me!"
"Yes, afraid so champ, but I didn't have time to explain
the niceties to you. Now you are going to start getting
sleepy soon, so listen up. I am not going to kill you,
or permanently harm you in any way. I meant what I said.
You need some male guidance in your life, and me, with
the help of some of my friends, are going to give you
the attention you have never had in your life. You're
gay obviously, or you wouldn't be hanging out in the gay
part of town and scamming gay porn in the bookstore. I
will teach you how to be the submissive little slut that
your were born to be!"
"I'm... not... gay. I was just..."
"Whatever Derrick. Now you are lying to me. You will be
punished for that once we get settled in. For now son,
just go to sleep. I remotely reclined his seat a bit as
the sedative took effect and soft snores started to come
out of him.
Phew, he stank. Also as the sedative took effect I
noticed a wet spot in front of his cargos. He had pissed
himself while he struggled. Ah well, I had to put up
stench, as well as painfully hard dick, as I sped
through the afternoon and into the evening on the way
back to Montana.
At a rest area, I pulled into a very secluded spot and
pulled out my laptop. Once I got my wireless connection
going, I started up PGP and sent an encrypted email to
one of my friends. I had rifled through Derricks
pockets, retrieved my hundred bucks, and found his
wallet. It had a mangled student ID from an Oregon high
school in it. He had just turned sixteen last month. I
sent his stats to my buddy to do a search to see if
anyone was really looking for him.
After that I made sure he was still out, unhooked the
cuff from his hand, released the seatbelt and pulled him
into the cargo area of the van (I had all the seats
removed behind the fronts) and laid him out on his back
with a pillow under his head. I cuffed ankles together
and then to ring in the floor and was about to throw the
blanket over him and get started again, but I couldn't
help myself.
I started rubbing my cock as I looked down at my new
boy. It only took a second. Before I even touched him I
knew I couldn't last, so I yanked my fly open, gave
three quick jerks and the cum started flying out of my
cock all over the sleeping kid's face. I leaned down,
wiped my cock on his hoodie and licked a bit of cum off
of him, before putting my cock away and throwing the
blanket over him.
The fun was just starting, and Derrick's new life was
about to begin. I headed back onto the interstate toward
my new house.
To be continued in part 2...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 69