[Fiction] Bound Boy (MxM, light incest (father/son - no sex between them!)

[bruffyT]

Just to set the scene for the detailed chapters coming later:
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So I’ve been gay for as long as I can remember and although I’ve never done the whole “coming-out” thing I’m really open about it and so everyone knows my sexuality, including my family. I always hated the idea of coming-out – for fuck sake a straight person never needs to announce their love for the opposite genders sexual reproductive organs, so neither was I. It’s just been me and dad since mum left when I was 12, and because he’s not got great pay it’s easier to live in a one bedroom apartment that we share. We’re pretty relaxed about things, if he brings a woman home for sex, I’ll leave the house for a few hours and he gives me the same courtesy when I bring a guy home. But I get more time at home alone anyway since dad works, so I have a lot of time for sex. Which is great, because I love it!
Back when I was 18 we’d had a bad year, dad lost his job, I quit Uni and we didn’t have a lot of money, so I said I didn’t need a very big birthday. Nonetheless Dad got me a card and £50 for a night out with friends, which was crap cause none of my friends could come out clubbing as I was first to turn 18, so I chose to do nothing. But I did decide to treat myself, and since Dad was at work on my birthday I decided I would have my first kinky sexual experience. I knew I could get a lot out of it. Birthday sex. First time kinky fun. And dad was starting back up on long shifts today, which meant he’d be out for the whole 12 hours, 7 til 7, factor in travel times and he’d be out from 6 til 9. Perfect. I put an add up online, simply, “birthday boy looking for kinky sex, I’m all alone and want a good seeing too, bondage, pain, the lot!”
An hour later I got a reply, “hey Will, I’m a 26 year old, ex-sports teacher, I love showing young twink types a good time and teach them how to be a man”, with a picture attach. That was all I needed to see and hear. My God he was hot! Tall, tanned, dark spiked hair that he clearly loved, he was muscled, with a little bit of manly hair across his chest and down to what I could only guess was a huge, throbbing cock. I sent him my address and by 11 o’clock there was a knock at my door. We’d agreed to sit and talk first, just because I knew I’d get nervous, and I was right. I was shitting myself. It wasn’t until I’d opened the door that I realised I knew this man. Mr Pickens. My old Sports teacher. Shit.
“Will?”
“Sir.” We just stood there. “I guess you should come in, if you still want”. He just nodded, rubbed his hands together, and we entered the open plan living space. We sat and talked. I told him about Uni and what happened with that. He told me how he was having girlfriend problems and needed an outlet. And then I dared to ask him why he advertised as an ‘ex’ teacher. Turns out he lost his job for indecent sexual behaviour with a student. No-one underage I hasten to add, a 6th form boy who’d consented, but that’s beside the point.
“I need to focus my sexual frustration in a safer way, which is why I thought online stuff was okay, because both parties are obviously consenting, but this… meeting an ex student, doesn’t really help me”.
But we spoke it through, like adults, and decided it was something we both wanted to do. So we got to it. Sir, as he still asked me to address him as, opened his sports bag and pulled out cuffs, chains, gags, blindfolds, dildos, and a crop and paddle.
“It’s best to ease you in fairly slowly boy”, he winked, “but because I’m going to be light today I’m cutting you out of your clothes, just this once, maybe”. Shit, I’d worn nice clothes, to make an impression, but I guess this is what I asked for, and I ‘spose it shows me he’s serious.
Sir approached me and lifted me up onto a chair he’d placed behind me and simultaneously cuffed one of my wrists. He then looped the long chained cuff through the fixture of the light above me after giving it a pull, I guess to see it wasn’t going to give way if I started pulling down, and then cuffed the other to my bare wrist. I had to get up on tip-toes because the chain wasn’t long enough to allow me to stand flat-footed. Then he just giggled coyly and kicked the chair from beneath my feet, leaving my arms straining and my body a good foot off the ground. He did mean business. I swung side to side, the light above me groaning as it became accustomed to my weight, and settled. Sir came at me with scissors and slowly began cutting my clothes away from me.
I was hanging by my wrists naked in the centre of my living room. And that was when I noticed the blinds were open.
“People in the street can see!”
“Ignore them”, replied Sir, “We’re on the first floor, you can’t be seen too easily”. And with that placed a first, strong slap with the paddle against my arse.
Several spankings later Sir stopped,
“Stop looking out the window, no-one can see”, but Sir was looking for something, “here!” I couldn’t see. He’d covered my eyes with the blindfold. Was it to calm me down or make me panic I wasn’t sure. But one thing I was sure about. Not being able to see seemed to make the pain worse. And thr anticipation even more so.
An hour or two later, I guessed, and all Sir had done to me was spank me with the paddle, and I assumed the crop too. He’d kissed and licked my body and nibbled the tip of my cock. But nothing too serious. Apart from the sore arse and chest, and the shoulders from hanging, but that was more numb, I was enjoying it, more than I thought I would. But that was when I heard the front door close.
“Sir?” I called, panicking that he’d left me, “Sir!” no reply. Silence. I just swung there. In the darkness. Then a cough. But not Sir’s. “Dad!?”
It was my dad, I’d got it wrong, he started his long shifts tomorrow, specifically so we could spend my birthday together. Fuck, I was already red with sores, but my face went bright red. I could feel it. “I can explain” I said feebly, still hanging, fully exposed. Silence. Dead silence. I wanted to die. SMACK! Another hit from the paddle. Sir leaned in close to my ear, clearly stood on a chair that I then frantically tried to find with my feet for a brief rest.
“Dad’s told me to carry on, he’s sat watching, lets put on a good show” and before I could reply force his tongue into my throat.

A year and a half later and Sir has just arrived for his weekly weekend session. Dad was already tied naked to his chair, this was to stop him moving, stop him touching, and let us laugh at him as he got hard watching his son get tormented. He was also gagged, he didn’t approve of a lot of what Sir did to me, now that he was getting more and more extreme, but we didn’t want to hear what he had to say, he was better off as the silent onlooker. This weekend, something told me, was going to be the hottest one yet.

[Dareholic]

Interesting, I would die If my dad ever watched me.