by Lisa Henry
“Shhh. Okay. You’re okay.”
Tad sniffled, too ashamed to look up. He kept his face hidden in the crook of his arm. He was standing now, with his Daddy’s arms around him. Daddy was swaying him back and forth a little, like they were dancing. Tad didn’t want to leave the comfort of his embrace. And he just knew that Conor would be sneering at him for crying.
He deserved to sneer. Not like what Tad had done to him wasn’t a thousand times worse. There had been nobody around to comfort Conor when Tad had made him cry. Tad didn’t deserve to be held and shushed right now. He didn’t deserve milk and cookies, or a Daddy. He deserved for Conor to laugh at him and humiliate him. To have his ass fucked in front of a whole room of hecklers.
Daddy backed him up against the desk. The smooth edge hit him in the back of the thighs.
“Up,” Daddy said, and Tad sat on the desk and shuffled back. He kept his face hidden in Daddy’s shirt this time, breathing in the scent of the man through the fabric. “Look at me, kiddo.”
Tad scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands and looked up.
Daddy’s face was kind and stern at the same time. His ice-blue gaze was fixed on Tad’s. “That’s enough self-pity, now. Wipe your eyes and finish your cookie. Let Daddy help.”
The cookie pressed to Tad’s pinched lips. He didn’t want to eat. Didn’t feel like it. Didn’t want Conor watching him. A couple more tears slipped down his cheeks as he obediently opened his mouth anyway, taking the second half of the cookie in one bite. “Good boy,” Daddy murmured, stroking his hair. “Good boy.”
Tad nodded, eyes squeezed shut, and chewed.
Who knew such a simple act could be so excruciating?
How would it feel when Daddy fucked him in front of Conor?
Just the thought of it had his body trembling and his eyes watering again. The cookie was like a mouthful of sand, getting dryer by the minute. Tad was half-afraid he’d choke on it. Then Daddy lifted the glass of milk to his mouth and held it there. Tipped it back, and Tad swallowed gratefully.
Until Daddy didn’t stop tilting it, and he couldn’t swallow fast enough, and the ice-cold milk was running down his chin and chest. Daddy laughed as he tipped the last of it down Tad’s chest.
Tad whined. He turned his head and caught Conor’s gaze. His face burned, but Conor wasn’t sneering like Tad had expected. He was watching wide-eyed, looking as though he was caught between hunger and awe. Tad glanced away quickly.
Daddy tsked. “Messy boy,” he said. “Ah well, waste not, want not.”
Tad’s breath caught as Daddy dipped his head and licked his chest. Licked. Lapped at the milk with the flat of his tongue, right from the hollow of his collarbone down to the trickle that forked around his nipple. Tad twisted, but Daddy’s grip on his shoulders kept him in place.
And then his grip turned into a push, flattening Tad back onto the desk.
“Let’s have a look,” Daddy said. His hands left Tad’s shoulders and moved to his thighs instead, spreading them wide where they half hung off the edge of the desk. Baring him.
“What a pretty pussy.” Daddy’s voice was low. Amused.
Tad froze. Stunned. Like the word had short-circuited his brain. Burned out all the connections there, leaving him unable to think, to talk, or to move. The word had never shocked him like that before. He called the guys in the dining hall pussies every day, and they just shouted it back. But hearing his Daddy say it when he was looking at his hole . . . Tad burned with humiliation, and with something else as well. The need for his Daddy to do it again. To show him his place. To treat him like a kid, or like a girl. To remind him that he wasn’t a man, and that he’d never be a man when compared to Daddy. That he needed to be something else.
“No complaints?” Daddy asked, bemused. “No comebacks?”
Tad shook his head. “No, Daddy.”
“Who’s the bitch now?” Conor whispered.
“That’s enough, Conor.”
“Sorry,” Conor said, his tone contrite.
Tad wanted to glare at him, to tell him to fuck off, that he wasn’t buying that apology at all and neither should Daddy. But here he was, not speaking up for himself. Not standing up to Conor. Just lying there like a slutty little boy without the balls to fight back or to stop this—whatever this was—from going any further.
Daddy crouched between Tad’s spread legs, hot/cool breath gusting across his taint. Tad squirmed, his own breath huffing out of him. He gripped the edge of the desk tightly, and swallowed. It took all his self-control to stay lying how Daddy had arranged him, and to keep his legs open under such close scrutiny. He turned his head and looked at Conor. He was staring intently at Tad, his mouth slightly open, his tongue running across his bottom lip. A flare of shame caught Tad, and warmed him. His face burned, but he didn’t look away from Conor. He couldn’t. In his sick imagination, it wasn’t Conor sitting on the desk beside him, but Brad or Kyle from the swim team. Or his professors, or his old swim coach, his high school English teacher. His father.
Fuck.
He’d still do it. He’d still let Daddy do whatever he wanted.
Tad arched his back off the desk as Daddy’s tongue flicked against his taint.
“Baby boy,” he said, a tinge of anger in his voice. “I’ll only tell you this once. When Daddy is playing with your lovely pussy, the last thing he wants to see is your little dick. Hold it up and keep it covered and out of my way.”
This time, Conor laughed.
“I’m s-sorry!” Tad clapped his hands over his aching dick. He felt stupid for saying that when he didn’t know the rules to this game. How the hell could he? But Daddy was unhappy with him; the instinct to apologize to the man was too strong to ignore.
“Shh,” Daddy murmured, rubbing a circle on Tad’s belly as he stood. “It’s all right, baby. But as for you, Conor, I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Awww,” Conor complained. “But it was just getting good!”
“I’m sure it was. But this is an important moment for Tad, and as his Daddy, I don’t think you should be a part of it.”
Tad sighed with relief, slumping against the desk.
“Give him a little time, and I’m sure he’ll be happy to play with other boys. You’ll get your chance to watch his pussy fucked soon enough.” Daddy smiled even as Tad’s heart dropped into his stomach. “He’ll be a little slut for his Daddy later, won’t you, baby boy?”
Tad’s throat was dry. “Yes, Daddy.”
There was nothing unimaginable in this place, with this man.
Conor sighed, and slid off the desk.
“Drawer,” Daddy said.
Conor padded around to the other side of the desk and pulled the drawer open. He slapped a strip of condoms on the desk beside Tad’s head, and a plastic bottle of lube.
“Have fun,” he said. “Hope he doesn’t tear you up too much, pussy boy.”
“Get out, Conor,” Daddy growled. “Now!”
Conor slammed the door shut behind him.
Daddy smiled down at Tad. He leaned over him, big and warm, to reach the condoms and lube. “He’s a sweet kid, baby boy, but you really hurt his feelings. You’ll be friends one day soon.”
Tad doubted the fuck out of that, but he didn’t dare say so.
“I see you don’t believe me, baby. I’m too eager to pop your cherry to discuss it right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see it.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Tad replied. God, he was shaking. His grip on his own dick was actually painful, he was so tense.
“You need to relax. Daddy isn’t going to be able to fuck your sweet pussy if you won’t let him in. You don’t want me to send you home unfucked, do you?”
Red, Tad thought, without knowing exactly why. Red.
He imagined himself saying the word. Imagined getting up from this desk, getting dressed, and walking away. A part of him wanted to do it. He was terrified of getting fucked. It would hurt, he was sure. He’d fucked en
ough tight virgin asses to know. But, somehow, the consequences of saying the word seemed even more terrible than even the promise of that pain.
He looked Daddy in the eye. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”
Daddy’s mouth quirked into a grin. He flicked open the bottle of lube, and squirted some onto his fingers. “You remember that, baby boy. You remember you asked for this.”
Tad flinched as Daddy rubbed his fingers against his hole. The lube was cold, and felt weird and wrong. He tried not to squirm as the tip of his Daddy’s finger eased into his hole, working around and around, coaxing the muscle to open. Tad stared at his Daddy’s face, at the look of concentrated focus as his Daddy studied his hole. Handsome, and strong, and absolutely fucking terrifying.
Daddy withdrew his finger, and then pushed his thumb against Tad’s hole. Pressed it inside, and crooked it. Tugged at Tad’s muscle. “Don’t want to open you too much, do we, baby?”
The rhythmic tugging made him seasick. He didn’t know if it was the physical sensations, or the anticipation. “D-don’t we?”
“No, baby. We want you to feel every inch of your Daddy’s dick.” Daddy squirted more lube against his hole. Pulled his thumb out, then shoved it back in. Squelched the lube around, and the sound was so embarrassing that Tad’s face burned. “Your pussy is getting so wet, baby boy.”
He wished Daddy would stop saying things like that. Calling it that. Talking about it that way. Like he was a girl.
“Nice and wet for Daddy. What a little slut. You must really want it, huh?”
Like his ass was getting sloppy wet like a girl’s pussy did—because he was turned on—instead of because of the lube Daddy kept squirting into him past the point of necessity.
Tad curled the fingers of his free hand around the edge of the desk. Shit. This was going to hurt. If Daddy thought he needed this much lube, how bad was it going to be? Daddy’s thumb didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t comfortable. It also wasn’t anywhere near as big as his cock.
Daddy pulled his thumb out at last, smiled down at Tad, and unzipped his fly.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Tad had almost choked on that dick, but now, knowing where it was going, it seemed even fucking bigger.
Daddy took a condom. Ripped the packet open, and rolled the latex down over his dick. “Your pussy is gonna feel so tight, baby boy.”
Yeah. That was what Tad was dreading.
“I don’t think I’m ready, Daddy,” he protested weakly. “I don’t think we should do this. I-I—”
Daddy stood and stared at him, holding his thick member in one hand as Tad’s lip began to tremble again. “I won’t lie to you, baby. This’ll hurt. If you don’t think you can take it, if you don’t think you can make Daddy proud, you’ve got your safewords.” He rubbed his thumb over Tad’s hole. “But you want my opinion, baby? I think you could be a sweet slut for your Daddy, if you wanted. If you put your mind to it. Isn’t that what I’ve said to you all along? Daddy believes in you. All the things you can do.”
“I—” Tad swallowed. “I jumped out of a plane once!”
His Daddy laughed, the sound so unexpected, so good-natured, that Tad laughed too.
“You jumped out of a plane, and you’re scared of getting a cock up that tight little ass of yours? Sweetheart, your head is messed up!” Daddy shifted Tad’s legs up, hooking his elbows under his knees. He stepped forward, the head of his dick bumping against Tad’s taint. So warm. So heavy and big and hard and unyielding and oh God it was going to split him apart, it was—“Tell me you can do this, baby,” Daddy ordered, his voice calm and firm.
Tad drew a deep breath, focusing on that sense of security and safety as Daddy’s cockhead notched against his wet hole. “Yes, Daddy. I can do this. Green.”
“Good boy. Keep your legs up for me.” Daddy pressed in.
Fuck.
The pain was sharper than Tad had imagined. Felt like something, some part of him, was ripping. He kicked out, but Daddy gripped his legs tightly.
“Don’t! It hurts, don’t!”
“You’re okay. Take a breath.” Daddy’s gaze was steely. “Bear down for me. If you do that, it’ll hurt less, and Daddy will get to take what’s his.”
Tad obeyed, and wailed as Daddy pushed an inch or two deeper.
“Come on. Show me you can take it. Show me how brave you are.”
Tad tried to sit. Tried to push his Daddy off him.
Daddy let go of his leg long enough to slap him smartly on the stomach, the sudden, sharp sting shocking Tad into stillness. “Listen to me. I’ve popped your cherry. If we stop now, you’re already fucked. Nothing’s going to change that. But if you wait . . .”
Tad panted for breath, his eyes watering. His ass throbbed. Pain stabbed him, deeper than Daddy’s cock. It hurt, and he couldn’t believe people did this.
“That’s it, baby,” Daddy cooed, and the little growl in his voice was the first sign he was getting some kind of pleasure from this. “Let Daddy in. Let Daddy fuck you. Let Daddy show you how good it can feel, hmm?”
He knew; he knew it did. He’d fucked enough guys—not all of them whores who could fake it—to know it was possible to get off with a dick in your ass. But he wasn’t one of them. Couldn’t be. Not when the pain was so sharp.
“Hurts,” he gasped.
“You’ll get used to it, baby,” Daddy said. “Your body’s just learning my shape.”
The hand that had slapped Tad’s stomach now rubbed soothing circles on it.
“You feel so good to me. Can’t wait to get the rest of my dick inside you. Can’t wait until your ass is trained up and I can just pound your guts until you scream.”
Tad bit back a sob. “Daddy . . .”
“Let me in, baby.” Daddy hefted Tad’s legs over his elbows again, and dragged him farther down the desk. He jerked his hips forward, driving his dick farther into Tad’s ass. Leaned in close, pushing Tad’s legs back and curling his spine. Rocked deeper and deeper inside him. “Tight pussy. Fucking tight.” His eyes rolled back into his head as his lids fell shut.
Tad drew a shuddering breath. It still hurt, but the edges of the pain were dull. It was more pressure than anything else. Bearable.
And there was something intoxicating about watching Daddy’s composure slip, seeing firsthand how turned on he was, too turned on to even speak in full sentences.
That was a kind of power, wasn’t it? A different kind of power than making a whore cry, or paying someone to suck your dick no matter how horrible you were. A more pure kind. A power he could be proud of, strangely enough, even with humiliation running bone-deep.
“You feel that, baby?” Daddy opened his eyes again.
“Mmm.”
Daddy rolled his hips.
“Shit!” Tad shuddered as pleasure coursed through him. Unexpected and intense. His dick, which had been limp since Daddy had penetrated him, began to twitch and fill again.
“There it is,” Daddy said. “Feels good to get your pussy fucked, doesn’t it? Some boys can come just from this. I bet you can too, with the right training. How would you like that, baby? To be able to come without even touching your little dick?”
Earlier tonight, he’d have protested, It’s not little! But now he just tossed back his head and let out a strange, high-pitched moan.
Daddy rocked inside him with slippery, teasing thrusts. All that power, and he wasn’t using it. He wasn’t pounding Tad’s ass or making him scream, but owning him just the same.
“Hold your dick back again, baby. You’re obstructing Daddy’s view of your pretty stretched-out pussy.”
Owned.
Tad did as he was told, sighing with relief.
Daddy grunted as he thrust forward again. The head of his cock rode over that place inside Tad that lit him up. His dick swelled under his palm. Tad pressed it to his abdomen, keeping it and his tight balls out of Daddy’s way. He lifted his head, and stared down at the place where their bodie
s joined, the hole Daddy fucked. Watched Daddy’s cock slide into his body, making him shudder and moan like the little bitch he was.
“That’s it,” Daddy said. He slapped Tad’s thigh. “You’re taking my cock like a good boy, baby.”
“Mmm.” Tad squeezed around Daddy’s dick, and they both gasped. “Daddy. God, Daddy.”
He’d never felt this good in his life.
Every other pleasure he’d ever experienced seemed gray and hollow and meaningless. His whole life, meaningless. All that mattered—all that would ever matter—was this moment, and this man.
“Daddy,” he cried out, overwhelmed with emotion, already teetering on the edge of despair because it couldn’t last forever. His breath shuddered out of him. He blinked away tears.
So much pleasure, so much safety, and meaning, and purpose, and soon he’d put his cash in Daddy’s hand and be sent back out the door. Sent away. He didn’t want to be sent away, put outside, thrown into the care of nannies and boarding school teachers and university professors, forced to make his own way in a world that only cared about him for his money.
He wanted his Daddy.
“Stop thinking so much, baby,” his Daddy chided, pumping deep, his face as tender as his cock was merciless. “That’s not what you’re here for. Focus on Daddy. Focus on keeping Daddy’s dick happy. Everything else, Daddy takes care of. That’s how it works from now on.”
“You’re lying,” Tad moaned miserably even as his dick throbbed against his palm. “This is all a game, it’s just a paycheck, you don’t—nobody—nobody wants me, not after they get their money!”
Daddy drew back his hand and slapped him across the cheek. Hard. Tad yelped in shock.
“Enough of that. You do as your Daddy says, right now. Be a good boy, Tad.”
Be a good boy. Be seen and not heard. Dress well. Make nice with your father’s friends. Don’t socialize with the help. Don’t be an embarrassment.
“I can’t,” Tad whimpered, his words shaken by the force of Daddy’s powerful thrusts. “I’m not. I’m not good!”