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I’ll play along. He’s certainly an incredibly direct Daddy, that’s for sure. I’d have expected a tour of his McMansion first. Possibly even a bit of foreplay in that Olympic sized swimming pool out back. Why he has a pool at all when there’s an entire ocean paces away, is honestly beyond all my poor boy comprehension. But, whatever. I’m not here to swim, as much as I am eager to feel him pound me into Wednesday morning. If it’s good enough, I’d beg him to let me stay until I’m forced to join my family on our return flight home.
Reid obscures my vision by placing the blindfold around my head, adjusting the strap at the base of my skull. “This’ll enhance every fucking thing I do to you,” he says. “Take my hand now, boy,” he instructs, leading me through the lower level of his home.
After a dozen paces in pitch black, he asks me to stop. A split-second later, I feel the strength of his arms sweeping my body off the floor. He proceeds to carry me up what feels like several rungs of a stairwell. I basically lost count after about six or seven, as a result of partial excitement and the rest a modicum of fear. I’ve never been blindfolded in my life. Reid doesn’t know this, but I actually hate the dark. Fuck. I still sleep with the lava lamps which Tuti and Candace gave me when I was nine or ten.
His breaths intensify after coming to a stop at the top of the stairs. “We won’t be needing this,” he says, fussing with each button of my hibiscus patterned Hawaiian shirt. “And certainly not these either,” he grunts playfully, unzipping my jeans.
Within another moment, he’s disrobed me entirely where all I can feel is the draft of cool air conditioning brush up against my exposed flesh. Reid’s hand adjoins with mine again, feeling the tug of him lead me farther down his hallway. A creaky door hinge practically scrapes every corner of my brain, as if he’s leading me straight into a creepy dungeon.
For all I know, he really could be John Wayne Gacey or some shit. Fuck. And he could’ve hired someone to take my phone that was left downstairs and dump it off in the sea somewhere so Carrie would never find my last known location. “We’re gathered here today to mourn the loss of a true freak of nature, Kragen William Darling. Wherever his body may be. A son, a friend, a mediocre writer at best.”
Okay man, get it together. Reid Fairchild isn’t dangerous. Stop being theatrical.
“Just a few more steps forward and you’ll come to a stop,” Reid mumbles, pushing me at my naked waist. “Yep right there, stay here boy,” he commands.
In a matter of moments which feel like several minutes, I hear the rustling of what sounds like chains.What the actual fuck? Run now! Don’t pass Go! Get the fuck out of here now!No sooner do I take a step back, unaware of my surroundings entirely, when Reid’s palm sinks into my shoulder blade.
My whole body flinches at the raspy tone cloaking his voice. “What did Daddy instruct you to do, Kragen?” He asks.
I swallow another hard gulp of air, placating my fears that this is only part of his game. Surely these are elements of the ultra-rich’s deeper sexual fantasies, because they can afford to have a whole room devoted to fulfilling their carnal thirst.
“Do you have to chain me up?” I whimper. “Is it absolutely necessary?”
“Banana Boy doesn’t trust Daddy?” He asks, seeming disappointed. “For this to work, I need your complete trust.”
No, I don’t trust you completely. Why would I?Every bone in my body is screaming for me to run for the hills. But I’m stuck on an island without any way to get back to my moms and sister. Even fucking Craig can’t protect me. I might as well throw out all the rhetoric and trust him. If I were to become shark food, surely he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of blindfolding me.Or paying for a two-thousand dollar lunch for that matter.
A sigh falls from my lips. “Yes Daddy, I trust you,” I reply. “I want your cock inside me so bad,” I moan.
“In due time, my boy,” he groans, gently pushing me backwards onto a padded surface which feels similar to leather.
The coolness of this bench bites my skin as Reid wraps each of my wrists in chains, restraining me for the very first time in my life. Whatever he’s about to do to me, he’s intent on limiting my mobility.And to think all I wanted was some surfer dick. Now I get to probably experience the most pain I’ve ever felt. Certainly to hurt more than anything my young gay innocence has ever been through.
After tethering each of my ankles, I hear him shuffling across the room. He lets out a moan as I hear fabric falling to the floor, likely his clothes. “If you absolutely must need me to stop for any reason, the safe word is‘pineapple’and I’ll halt whatever I’m doing.”
That’s comforting, I guess. Short of that “Fifty Shades of Grey” movie, I never realized safe words were a thing. Honestly, neither could I have comprehended that people actually chained their sexual partners to benches with blindfolds. Seriously, I thought all this shit was exaggerated by Hollywood just to make a quick buck.
“Okay,” I reply, nodding even though I have no idea if his back is turned to me or not.
My hearing seems heightened to the point where I can identify the sound of a striking match. The engulfing flame drowns my eardrums as my cock twitches with each tiny spark, like he’s lighting a group of candles.
But a moment later, I feel the sting of a flimsy switch slapping against my bare chest, causing me to wince. “Okaywhat?” He hollers firmly.
“Okay Daddy?” I reply, hoping that’s the correct answer.
“That’s my Banana Boy,” Reid praises me. “You’re gonna be the most reformed boy after tonight is over with,” he cackles. “You might even wanna come back begging for seconds, if I play my cards right,” he finishes, tugging my hardened cock with his steady grip.
“Mmmmm,” I moan. “Oh that feels so fucking good.”
Instantly, I feel the wetness of what could be Reid’s warm mouth wrapping around my dick.No, it’s definitely his mouth. If my cock had a nose, it might be able to smell the citrusy aroma of all the mimosas he drank at lunch.In a matter of moments, my hungry asshole responds to a slender object poking ever so slightly inside. Whatever he’s inserting, it’s lubricated by saliva or some type of slippery substance.
“Nnnngh,” I wail at the ache fishing its way up my rectum. “Yowwww,” I wince again.
“You like Daddy’s finger, don’t you?” He confirms what I thought might have been a digit.Fuck even two from the feel of it grazing my prostate.
“Mmmm hmmm,” I cry with delight. “Please fuck me already,” I scream impatiently.
Reid clicks his tongue. “Patience my boy,” he hisses, licking the base of my sac with each rub of his finger against my prostate. “We have all afternoon and a dinner before we get dressed for the club tonight.”
