BILF

I park on the street behind a blue Subaru. Reaching over I open the gym bag lying on the passenger seat and remove the clothes from it. Carefully I scan the area around me. Satisfied that no one is in the vicinity, I move the seat back and remove all the clothing I’m wearing. I’m in a rush, so I throw these clothes onto the floor beneath the passenger seat. I grab the body mist from the bag and give my naked body a quick spray before putting on the other set of clothes. It’s a bit awkward to do this in the truck. It would have been more practical to have done this earlier, but I wasn’t thinking.

After checking the side mirror for traffic, I open the door and get out. I don’t bother to lock it, my pickup has seen better days. I walk around to the back and lift the bike out of the truck’s bed. Mounting it, I take off and pedal down the street. It’s a quick ride, only two blocks. As I turn into the driveway, I see him looking out the front window. Obviously he’s waiting on me. I pretend not to take notice and coast to a stop inside the garage. The garage door hums as it closes when I push the button on the wall. I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. I have a pretty good idea of what is about to go down.

The door to the mudroom is unlocked. I walk in. The door barely has time to shut before I hear him ask me to please come into the living room. I slowly cross through the kitchen and make my way there. I stop at the entrance to the living room and wait. He’s sitting on the sofa. He is wearing his angry face. “I got a call from your school today, son. What the hell? I’m tired of getting these calls. What do you have to say for yourself?” I stutter. Honestly I’m not sure of the exact transgression that he’s referring to yet. I have an idea, but It could be a myriad of things. I give him a quizzical look. He’s exasperated, I’m trying his patience. “The fight this morning,” he says.

Ok, now I know where this is going. “It wasn’t my fault Dad. He started it.” This seems like the best way to begin. Deny all responsibility. I explain that the kid accused me of swiping his phone charger. I wasn’t anywhere near him or his stupid charger. The kid claimed that someone saw me, but I tell Dad it wasn’t me. Anyhow, he threw the first punch. I was only defending myself. Dad is clearly not buying this. I can’t blame him as apparently I’ve done a lot of crazy shit this year.

“Mr. Reinholz said you broke the kid’s arm, and they found the charger in your locker. Get over here!”

He tells me that I’ve really crossed the line this time. He’ll probably have to pay the kid’s urgent care bill. “Really Troy, this can not go unpunished” I’m told that he doesn’t know how to deal with me anymore. My behavior never changes.

Shit. I walk over and stand in front of him. “Drop your pants boy, your underwear too… and get over my knee.”

* * *

Now bear with me. This story is not as confusing as it will first appear. It all actually began late this morning. I was sitting in Physics 201 quite bored when I got a text from my boss Nick. He asked if I had any plans for the afternoon. One of his clients, Mr L. wanted me to stop by around 2 pm. My afternoon itinerary was indeed full. I had a place I needed to go and a few errands to run. However, this wasn’t really a request. Mr. L was a good client, and this was part of my job. I told Nick I would do it. I’d work it in with my previous plans.

* * *

I drop my pants and briefs and step out of them. I lay myself down over Dad’s lap on the sofa as instructed. He has fairly large hands and so when the first swat connects with my bare ass, it stings. It hurts. This is not going to be a pansy ass spanking. I am in for some major pain.

Whack! The second hit closely follows the first. I grunt and my butt shifts. “Don’t you dare move Troy.” he barks. He pushes his other hand down on my back to help keep me in place. He lands two more smacks. I grit my teeth with each blow that hits me. My ass begins to feel very warm, the sting isn’t going away. I grab the edges of the couch and brace myself for more blows.

* * *

Troy isn’t my real name. Mark is, and I have other aliases besides Troy. I’m sure you realize by now that this isn’t my Dad. This is Mr L. I’m roleplaying his real son Troy. He’s a junior in high school and Mr. L has the hots for him big time, but he won’t act on them. I’m a stand in for Troy. The clothes I’m wearing.. they’re Troy’s. They’re actually a tad big for me, especially his sneakers. The body spray I used is Troy's as well. Everything I do is to mimic Mr. L’s real son. This also explains why I had to park away from the house and ride my bike here. Troy rides his bike to and from school.

 I have no idea if Troy is really an asshole. He might be a great kid.Then again, I might be paying the price for his real transgressions… or maybe they’re just made up. It’s hard to believe that he could really be as bad as Mr L makes him out to be at times. Perhaps I get the punishment Troy deserves to get. Perhaps Mr. L is punishing me for his own deviant feelings, regarding his deep desires to fuck and breed his own son.

* * *

Dad’s hand smacks me hard four more times. The blows hit my right asscheek more squarely than the left. He tells me what a disappointment I am. I’m not just headed down the wrong path, I’m already half way down it. He’s tired of all my god damn shit. Something has to change.

He stops and searches the gap between the cushions of the sofa. He finds the wooden paddle he has tucked away there. (Damn). He shows it to me. Rubs it against my face. He lightly taps my ass a few times with it. Dad pauses, holds the paddle up in the air, allowing the anticipation to build. I cringe waiting for the blows that are about to start. I’m prepared for it, but it still jolts me when wood suddenly connects with skin. Pow, pow. Two in succession. Worse than his hand. I stifle a cry and tell him this is all a big misunderstanding. This doesn’t seem to carry any weight with him, so I change tactics and tell him I won’t fight anymore if only he’ll stop. He doesn’t believe me. He tells me I’m lying, and that my true punishment hasn’t even begun yet. Pow, pow….. pow, pow, pow! God it hurts.

* * *

I guess I look a little like Troy. I just turned 20, dark blond hair, dull bluish-gray eyes, 5’9”, swimmer build ( I actually do swim), naturally smooth, 145 lb, 30” waist, size 8.5 sneakers, (and for the record. 6.25” cut, and yes that 0.25 inches is important to me). I’m told that I have a babyface. I hated that growing up. I got teased for it. I'm always told I look much younger than I am. Now, however, it works to my advantage.

 From the pictures I’ve seen, Troy is light blond, brown eyes, a bit heavier build. I’m guessing he’s about 5’11”, 165 lb. I know he wears size 32 jeans and size 9.5 shoes. He has a smooth chest. I have no idea what size cock Troy has or whether he’s cut.

 Mr. L is uncut. For a guy in his 40’s he’s not bad looking at all. He’s relatively in shape. Better than your typical dad’s bod. Dark hair, moderately hairy chest. He’s got a fairly big dick. It’s almost 8 inches when fully inflated. Of the ‘clients’ I see, he’s one of the better looking ones. And of course I get paid for this. WTF… do you think I'd do this for free?

* * *

He puts the paddle down. For a second he seems to lose a little focus, his mood somewhat softens as he caresses my ass and thighs. My ass cheeks feel hot and a little raw. I know they must be very red.

The ass fondling lasts less than a minute. “Let’s see if it’s ready,” he says and sticks a finger in my mouth. “Suck on it son,” he commands. I comply and suck on it hard for a minute and get it sloppy wet. He removes it and works it in my hole. Again I squirm, though he just applies more force. He moves his finger around and makes a judgment call. It isn’t ready. “Not ripe enough yet Troy. We need to move somewhere I can get more leverage”.

We get up and I’m marched into the kitchen where I’m instructed to lean over the center island. He wants plenty of airspace to lift the paddle high. It comes crashing down against both cheeks. The force pushes me into the island. He pushes down on my back, and slams me a few more times. This last blow catches part of my upper thighs as well. It knocks the breath out of me and real tears begin to roll down my face. He mocks me by saying I’m not as tough as I pretend to be. He taps my ass with the paddle a few more times and then I receive one last excruciatingly hard blow. A thumb is jammed into my mouth and it’s time for another ripeness check. This time I pass (Thank God). I’m told to go to my room and get in my bed.

* * *

I usually see Mr. L a few times a month, normally in the afternoon. Troy gets out of school at 3, but doesn’t come home until near 4. Mr. L wants me out of there by 3 so he can clean up the scene. There’s a Mrs. L, but she doesn’t get home until 5:30. We’ve been doing this for about 7 months.

 The spankings have occured maybe once a month. Today wasn’t too bad. He also has a crop he will sometimes use. That’s the worst. He especially likes to focus that on the bottoms of my feet, though my back and legs might take a few hits too.

* * *

I climb the stairs to Troy’s room. He always fucks me here. It’s a typical boy’s room. It’s in a bit of disarray. Clothes piled all around. Transformer and Lego models line some shelves. Sports posters on the wall. He’s a hockey and baseball fan and apparently plays Fortnite. Mr L. has pulled off the comforter and top sheet. They lie in a puddle on the floor. I’m in Doggy position. I’m looking at a few pillows and a big stuffed pig he has placed to the side. There’s a 8 x10 photo of a shirtless Troy at the beach taped to the headboard, as well as a few other pics of Troy he has placed around the room. He likes to look at them while he’s screwing me. This I consider to be some freaky shit.

He’s offered me a few hundred dollars in the past if I could get him some pics of Troy naked. I don’t know how he expected that I could accomplish this, though I have given it some thought. I’m surprised he hasn’t hidden a camera in Troy’s room or even the bathroom.

He takes his time coming up to the room. Dad announces that the time has come for my real punishment. He says that he is very sorry, but that this is very necessary. He claims I asked for this.

He pulls his shirt over his head and slips off his shoes, but not his socks. He pulls his belt off and then snaps it against my butt like a whip. Three strikes to “freshen it up”. His pants and boxers come off. Crawling into bed he sits up against the headboard. His legs are spread apart. He points to his dick and tells me to get busy. I see him glance at the clock which reads 2:40. I know he wants me to be out of there by 3. He tells me to be quick about it.

Dad’s pretty much hard when I put it in my mouth, the spanking I just received really turned him on. I begin my efforts, but he is impatient and decides to take over control. Grabbing my head he makes it do his will. His 8 inches aren't easy to take, but I have no choice. I usually have decent gag control, but he’s so rough that I sputter and choke on it. This isn’t so much a blowjob as it is a full-on facefuck.

“Heard you swear earlier while you were getting a thrashing. We don’t talk like that in this house. Gotta clean that filth out of your mouth son.”

My head is pushed off his cock. He wants me in doggy position to prepare for my punishment. I’m informed that I’m going to have to take it raw for maximum impact. He’s not going to be gentle. This is a lesson to be learned, not a reward. The intent is a lasting reminder not to cause trouble in school and concentrate on my classes.

He gets into position behind me. He grabs my waist with one hand. The only lube I’m getting today he declares is spit. That’s for him, not for my comfort. I hear him hack up a wad of spit and apply it to his cock. He slaps the cock against my ass cheeks a few times. I feel the sting, they’re definitely a little raw. Dad pulls my red cheeks apart and glides his penis up and down my crevice. I feel him lining it up with my hole I’m impelled. He drives it in, all the way to the root. I see stars. I yell out.

“Felt that did you son?”

“Fuck Dad! Shit,” I answer.

He slams it in and out again. Each time withdrawing completely so that I have to feel the force of him pushing my sphincter open when it re enters me. I know he's staring at the pic of Troy, probably salivating as he continues his assault. He shoves my body down now so that I’m lying flat on the bed. He lays on top of me applying the entire weight of his body, making it hard for me to breathe. His legs pin mine so I can’t move as he continues to stuff my boyhole, grinding his meat into me. My head is smashed into the pillow. He drives his tongue into my ear and works it around. “You better not be enjoying this,” he tells me. I try to get out the words that I’m not, but they’re muffled by the pillow.

He shudders and his thrusts slow. One final deep thrust as his dick spasms deep inside me releasing its contents. He flips me over and grabs the shirt of Troy’s I was wearing when I arrived. He throws it at me and tells me to jack off into it. I climax quickly and shoot strings of thick cum onto it. The session is over. The clock reads 3:05.

He gets up and searches Troy’s room. Picking up various items, he gives each one a sniff. He wants the ripest of Troy’s clothes. He throws a pair of boxer briefs, pants, shirt and socks at me. I climb out of the bed and dress in them. I’ll wear these the next time I come over. He wants Troy’s scent when we’re together, not mine.

* * *

I picture him getting up at 3 am tonight. I imagine he’ll sneak over to this room where Troy is fast asleep. He’ll stand off to the side and watch him sleep. MaybeTroy will have kicked off the sheets and be lying there naked in just his underwear. Of course he’ll have Troy’s shirt with my cum on it. He’ll put it to his nose and take some deep breaths. Mr L. will have his sweatpants and briefs pulled down a bit, his dick will be hanging out. He’ll stroke it and imagine he’s really fucking his son. He’ll climax into the shirt. I imagine he’ll repeat this process several times over the next few days and weeks.

* * *

Time to go. I leave the way I came in. I ride back to my truck and heave my bike into the bed. I ease into the driver’s seat. Pain emanates as I attempt to sit down. I look around for something softer to sit upon. The best I can find is a towel lying on the floor in the back seat. I fluff it as best as I can. It helps a very little. The pain of my sore ass decreases from a 6 to maybe 5.5. I manage the drive back to my dorm.

It’s not always like this when I come over. Most of the time the sex is normal, vanilla even. He’s more gentle, he cuddles. He tells his pretend Troy how much he loves him. Yes, and how much he loves his son’s cock and ass. He asks how school is and I make up stories about it based on what I know about Troy.

I send Nick a short message. I inform him the job is complete and the amount of time I spent there. Nick likes to use What’s App because the messages are encrypted. Nick likes to be a little cautious, so he’s developed some code words that I need to work into my message. ‘Sushi’ (I took it raw), ‘Corporation’ (Corporal punishment- spanking), etc… I expect to get about $550 for today, since it was more than a basic encounter. It’ll be loaded on my Visa gift card within the next day or two. I don’t know what Mr L. actually pays or what Nick’s cut is. I imagine it’s larger than my share. Sometimes I think I might do better if I quit and did this on my own. But I’ve heard a few stories and so I think that this seems easier… less hassle. I don’t have to place ads or find guys. The clients are vetted. No money directly changes hands… so no worries about robbery or being stiffed. Everything is taken care of.

There’s a lot more backstory here, but it’s a bit much to unpack in one sitting. Most of this job is rather vanilla, but I’ve had some crazier encounters as well. At least crazy to me. My plan is to share some of the more unusual experiences. I don’t have anyone that I can share these stories with, so here seems like a good spot. As I add stories, I’ll sprinkle in some of the odd bits and pieces that will tie everything together more. As for right now, my butt needs a rest.