One Small Suitcase

by Petr-Johan

2 Feb 2019 1278 readers Score 9.1 (34 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


THE COLD METAL ROAD

Ninety minutes after we’d left Jim’s Army and Navy store we were both grateful for the heavy weather gear he’d provided. My Lincoln is a big, substantial  car, good traction but it was fighting both accumulating ice on the road as well as cross wind, according to the warnings on the radio, of around forty or fifty miles an hour. Each time I could feel a strong gust of wind slide us sideways toward the edge, I wondered if it was time to get out and hook on the tire chains-again, something from Jim that I’d never thought we’d need. The positive side was that we were headed for an exit which we needed as the thought of going all the way back was not only ridiculous but dangerous, probably impossible. Considering we didn’t know the names of our hosts, we got acquainted over my cell phone as we struggled along and reception got better-a sign we were closing in on ‘home’ for the night. Shay and Carl, their names, were great at playing eyes in the sky guiding a lost plane as well as a car in heavy weather. You forget that everyone in the country drives by the familiar things, Smith’s  barn, half on its side, the sign for some restaurant, heavily used as target practice, mile markers-although they existed-were not regarded as very important. Shay said he’d go up to the road and put some sort of lantern as close to the edge as he could, a few hundred yards before the turn off. Given the weather, that was a favor beyond kindness, if it was rough going on the pavement, walking up and then along it was not only cold and grim but dangerous. Robin said we’d almost stopped seeing cars, just eighteen wheelers-several pulled over, clearly their driver had heard the word about conditions ahead, thought it a good idea to ‘shelter in place’ On the other side, a highway patrol SUV stopped by a small sedan that was sideways and almost falling into what was probably a ditch. One thing, if things really got fucked up, weather wise, I could pull in behind some tractor with a large cab over, the sort drivers can live in, park, knock on the door, hold up a  bottle, smokes...food...best cozy home for the night we could have found. Even if the Lincoln was taken out by a pick up entering the free skate division, whichever good guy had taken us in, could drop us on down….probably be welcomed by our new, if unmet, buddies. If that came to pass, you never knew, our knight of the road might like the taste of man meat-at the worst not object to a couple of ‘soldiers’ taking turns sucking him off...in the cold, with booze, eager mouths...show me a man who says getting a blow job, so what if it’s a guy doing it, doesn’t feel good. That’s what I thought but didn’t mention it to my kid; I could see him jumping on that idea faster than a speeding bullet. What he saw as a great time, I saw as something only as an action in emergency, he would see as something to do for this night and then tomorrow night…...It went through my mind that, having met Robin, some open minded independent trucker might see him as a helluva lunker to take along with him, he could be returned….eventually. There was an answer to this potential occupation: NO.

He may have known how to drive a tank but I grew up near the mountains, had to go up into them in winter. Did I enjoy this kind of hellacious driving condition? No, but once we were twenty miles out, going back carried as much jeopardy as going forward; It was entirely possible the storm was behind you and to risk running into a white out or whatever was too great a chance to take.

Robin was not frightened but this wasn’t something he knew anything about; The car had a bench front seat which meant he could get close to me, occasionally put a hand on my shoulder. Apart from the continuing bad news about the weather, we said nothing, I had to concentrate, Robin was to watch for the lantern.

After one strong gust that did push past the gravel siding almost into a ditch, my kid spotted the point of light. We were going slowly, paused, had him get out,  turn off and pick up the lantern, hop in and we kept on. Knew it was only a few hundred yards so I just kept the wheels on the right side in the chat and crept on. The sound of a metal sign banging signaled their driveway-easy to turn in as another blast of air caught us on the tail and damn near made the turn for us. Facing that direction we now had the snow blowing across the window as opposed to onto the window which, as long as it didn’t stick and freeze gave you some forward vision. Now….all I could do was let it roll as slowly as it would until we hit something or had a place to stop revealed itself; It was the former, a large eight by eight log clearly used as a perimeter for parking.

Almost immediately the guys rushed out, didn’t bother with the formalities, got us unloaded, one of them took the keys, said they’d park it in the barn, and get the fuck in the house. Even the run to their door seemed threatening but once in, it was clear we were home, safe, welcome and, the most important, warm.

Once, in Alaska, I’d visited a client whose hobby was dog mushing-yeah the name sounds like making them into cereal but is actually racing through snow on long overland trips. He’d taken me out to meet the dogs who, considering their great size and strength, when they came at you, could cause if not fear, then hesitation. Friendly, up on their hind legs, licking you, happy, barking, pulling you down, rolling you over...they hoped you were having as much fun as they were. I mention that cuz it’s kinda like the greeting we got from Carl and Shay. Big men, strong, but big smiles, gregarious seems almost  understated. We were greeted with hugs and kisses, told how welcome we were, sure we’d need a drink, get those coats off...they had heavy flannel shirts for us, just get them on...oh, and by the way, which was who? Both Ways. As I was peeling off my soldier gear and being turned into a lumber jack, we got it straightened out, I was Christopher, he was my son, Robin. Just then there was a lot that probably needed explaining but, for now, that constituted the basics.

Almost immediately we were paired up, Shay took Robin and Carl stuck with me. Our hosts, guides, welcomers, all concealed in two really fine men. Clearly whatever they did with metal had created the sort of work built body that’s strong but has a slight layer of fat that doesn’t look ‘fat’ just very healthy. One thing we might have in common, they were dressed alike but in flannel and heavy canvas work pants, the sort construction workers wear in winter....

There was the babble of conviviality that slaughtered regular conversation but rose up to be an aura of friendliness. All about weather, getting here, meeting us, wondered if we’d really stop in, better plan on staying more than the night, were we hungry and, hell, fuck  me, forgot to get your drinks? What’ll you have? It was the first opportunity to say a whole sentence. Robin said, after the trip in, he’d have a big Bourbon, fuck the ice. That brought smiles to their faces as happens, that’s what they drank too. Why not? I had what every one else was drinking.

One sip told me this was good stuff, mentioned that, watched them light up in thanks for knowing the ‘good stuff’. But that set Carl off...”Well, shit, we got ‘que for ya if you’re hungry? Good venison, how about a plate with some biscuits, Shay made them real good.” It was a bit overwhelming but so well meant. God bless Robin, he knew just what to do, without that kiss...we could well be creeping on down the road and wondering if we should be.

“Guys, before I smell like booze, food and smoke, anyone mind if I gave each of you a kiss while I check out your balls? Back there on the road knowing you were here kept us going. Come on, don’t be shy, you’ve seen us do it.” Shay was closest so he was the one Robin grabbed.

“Buddy, thanks...” He didn’t kiss him, first he held him gave him a big hug and then slid carefully onto his face. I watched Shay raise his arms then lower then finally commit to wrapping them around my kid. You could see he really was enjoying it, felt it for the real kiss, the one that means a lot of things but easily spells out you’re my pal…As to Robin, he said what he’d do and he did it. At first Shay seemed taken back but quickly realized this was just another part of getting acquainted. To secure that thought, Robin took one of his hands and plunked it right on his crotch. “Check ‘em out. They’re better when they’re not covered up.” Shay agreed and, even at that distance, I could see his pants pop out.

I was interrupted by Carl who was more direct but no less welcoming. It was  pleasant to pause, held in his big arms, warm, knowing all was safe...only thing to do, kiss him back. Robin again. We had a nut check exchange-he seemed pleased to find he had to play around the large protective curve that was my bull cock. Not that he minded...again, for later…

Robin again.“Hey, there a fire? Maybe some place we can all sit down, put our boots up, warm our nuts together? Get comfortable, swill down this good sauce..?”

The guys may have been a bit shocked by Robin; Yes, there was a fireplace with a  big, comfortable sofa, just right for all of us to get cozy in, they just hadn’t figured out how to move the action from here to there. Problem solved.

“Hey, pull off those combats, we won’t fight a friendly advance, got some big, thick wool socks, warmer on your feet, more comfortable, too, we must have...what, Carl?...two dozen pairs? Something we think we need to buy every year...then find out we already have plenty...when you leave, please, please take a couple a pairs.” He hopped up headed for the sock drawer. The rest of us wandered into the room with the fireplace plus the big, comfortable couch.

Both were as advertised. The sort of fireplace you see in magazine, big fire box, surrounded by large rocks, cement worked into a design in front, large logs in it, blazing plus the better part of a small forest stacked off to one side. There was a sadness, at least that I could see; Their great pleasure at having company, this room all set up for guests that...had never arrived and all of it overspread by their fear of discovery that they were...queer. I could begin to see why they stopped and yelled at us, now I was glad they did. No doubt Robin had something thought up-when didn’t he?- but what I realized was…... this was a big deal for them. Guys, gay guys, happy to be there, probably willing to do...whatever. I looked again. The carefully laid fire, the logs, the warm socks, the couch that embraced you, the warm room, the table to put your feet up…..At least for this night it would work for them as they’d always hoped it would.

Robin again. “Jesus, when you said fireplace, you meant it. Mind if I took off a couple of layers? Socks feel great but the sweat is gonna wet my ‘nads unless I….”

Shay started to take off a heavy flannel shirt as did Carl...I hadn’t put one on.

Maybe an hour went by, sipping, talking, laughing-we fessed up about not quite being soldiers, told them about accidentally starting out to make an ad then sort of making soft porn...how great it was to have some place to go...this fire, their hospitality...great Bourbon….it was...Robin.

“Guys, something I’ve always wanted but...it’s your house, your rules. That fire, that rug...uhm...maybe you could let me strip and just lay in front of the fire? Maybe you guys join me?” (I almost had to turn my head. Robin was so great at just this sort of setting the hook for the fish. No way in hell they weren’t going to end up on the floor on the rug with him, naked. And, just incidentally, me.) Moreover, he did a bit of an act. Was it a striptease? Depended on how you viewed it. Stood right in front of the fire, the flames forming a frame and slowly, casually, pulled off everything he was wearing save for the big, heavy socks. He turned to face the fire. Even from behind you could see he had his dick in his hand. “Oh Yeah, makes you understand why they grill sausages.” By the way his elbow was moving, you know he was slowly stroking himself. Shay tried to look down, couldn’t...I knew when to help.

“Son, go on, get out of those clothes and down in front of him….suck him...I guess Carl and me will join you, looks too comfortable...whaddya say, Buddy?” He just smiled as his hand slid down undoing his buttons then his belt… “Hope you don’t mind our making ourselves at home…?” His answer was almost silent…. “We….kinda hoped you might.” He looked at me. “Like to try getting my jaw around your meat...before we grill it...”. He laughed.

“On the floor, tell you what, how about a getting to know you 69...they’re already busy, maybe they’ll join us.” I thought he might faint. It was all he and Shay had ever dreamed about, two other guys, nice guys, friendly, queer...and they knew what to do.

Carl wasn’t nervous but he’d never done it, or anything, with a man other than Shay. I brought him to me, kissed him, told him while we lay there in the warm fire, I thought I’d lick his nuts, maybe take a pull on his cock then...he could swing around and we could get a little suck fest going. The first time my tongue hit his balls he collapsed, he was ready, no overture, just the main event. He was on top of me, slurping on my cock, dinner was served. Next to us Shay was on the bottom while Robin had his whole cock gone, you could hear the suck, see Shay begin to twist. Robin winked at me.

They hadn’t been drained, or at least warmed up and then drained so this first time went rather quickly. Also, eating the cum of another man….different.

Afterwards we just lolled, naked, warm, occasionally kissing, pulling nipples, clutching balls, but the overpowering sense was the warmth of the fire, that it wasn’t evenly distributed over you, strange, good...made you want to get up on your knees and move your sausage and eggs in, heat ‘em up for the next diner.

Carl was on his back while I let my butt get warm. He was up on one arm, apparently noticed something, asked… “Robin...he has some sort of thing...with a string around his neck..what?”

I looked down than right at him. “That’s his noose and rope...he gave it to me, I use it when he’s been bad, I need his attention, sometimes just a touch to let him know I love him...Proud day when your son gives you control like that….not many  men get anything like that. I thought he’d taken it off but...it means a lot to him, to both of us.” I reached over, caught the leather strand, gave it a gentle tug...he looked up, smiled, put his head back down.

“Damn.” For whatever reason Carl was taken aback...I suppose most guys would be but ours wasn’t a ‘gay’ relationship, ours was a father and son who both happened to be gay or, as we usually said, queer. Carl looked down, thought about something.

“Uh, I need to show you something, hold on, I’ll be right back.” He got up, trotted out of the room, was quickly back, his hand holding a well crafted square wooden box about  ten by ten inches.

“Open it.”

I did and...Jesus Christ, two steel collars, seemingly without a lock, just ovoids, the size to go around a man’s neck. Carl dipped his head, maybe in shame, I hoped not.

“See, Shay and I, well, we wanted something to prove to each other...you know...we meant more so...don’t know who’s idea. Some guy came in to get a joke ring for his wife’s anniversary, had it made like a collar, somewhere he’d found a huge fake diamond….guess that’s where Shay got the idea, didn’t tell me for a long time. There’s always metal that doesn’t seem to be part of something laying around, you know, broken snow plow-God are we gonna be busy with busted crap to move snow after this event begins to melt...may need some extra help-anyway, one day we were in bed just talking when he brought out a metal box….you know what was in it.” I picked it up, still couldn’t figure out...Carl took it.

“It’s not easy, right here there’s a seam which actually lifts slightly, just enough to allow a covered hinge in the front to open and let a neck go in...we usually wear them but today, well, you know.”

“I think they’re fucking great. Put it on….show me.” He was right, it took considerable pressure until it slid up and out letting the hinge open just wide enough to slide your neck in. It latched far more easily than it opened.

“That’s it...Shay’s name is on the inside along with...well...a saying.”

“What...if it’s not too personal?”

“ Only in death is love eternal.” His eyes teared a bit. I took his head, kissed the steel, then him, then his breast….He put an arm around me and whispered… “You get it, I wondered but now about the noose...you get it.”

“Yep, until death.” There was a pause, one more thing about the collars. “We’ve thought about having them welded….would too but….”

“Listen, buddy, I know why and you’re right; The day the collar got caught on something and….”

“Yeah, something.”

“Seriously want something that permanent?”

“Uhm...always have, least for a long time. Every place else where you could surround something….well, like you said, it gets caught…”

“What about something slightly loose but permanent around these?”

I put my hand over his nuts, the stem of flesh that led to his cock, the vessel that held his man milk…. “There?”

That had to end that, it was too personal, none of my business although when I told Robin… Changed the conversation, gave his leash a tug.

He rolled over, punched Shay, showed him, Shay looked slightly surprised. As he was holding Robin, Carl rolled over, apparently told him about what was around Robin’s neck which got a big thumbs up from him. I told him to put the one on Shay which he did. They both seemed more comfortable back in their steel. I took Robin in my arms, had him look at the collars-he was amazed, as I was, impressed.

“Gee, you guys mean to each other what Dad and I do….” Something went through his mind but he dismissed it. I thought I knew but it was too comfortable to pry it out of him.

“ Hey, wanta shift? Get over here Shay, I got a bull cock that needs to be worked on….your turn.” We changed places. I put him on his back, arched myself so my dick hung down toward his mouth then slowly lowered myself until he was eating mine and I was going down on his. Comfortable, warm...he knew how to suck and got it all in, right to the fur; I was impressed. More than one guy had choked at the fifty yard line….

Maybe one, two hours later the fire was glowing embers, still putting out warmth. The four of us were intertwined, sucking here, groping there, pinching nipples, giving balls a gentle punch...comfortable. Robin crawled over to me, his grey eyes happy, at peace. “Told you they were nice guys...I don’t know about you but...the floor and the fireplace are great but...I’m getting tired.” It had been a long day, probably midnight or later at that point.

“Hey, Carl, my baby boy needs to be put to bed….think you and Shay could help me?”He smiled. “Yeup, you know we can. Shay, take the kid, Dad and I’ll follow...”

Shay picked up Robin as one would a child, Robin instinctively leaned against his big chest, his eyes drooping, one hand on a breast.

“He’s a great kid…..”

“...if he were a kid. He’s a great son. I’m gonna take a guess...isn’t Shay sort of your son...in sense?”

“You know I’m the Dom….don’t you.”

“Kind of guessed, doesn’t matter you’ve got a great guy.”

“Yeah, only thing….I kinda wish he was more like my son.”

I paused, put an edge on my voice.“Well, you don’t…. tell you why, if you did, those collars wouldn’t exist. I’m a father and you see my son, I’m also the Dom but he doesn’t really know it, he’s submissive to me because he senses that’s what is appropriate, bet you can see that...Leave things as they are, you’re happy, Shay’s happy...don’t fuck it up by trying for something that isn’t going to be there.”

I could see him abandon what wasn’t a very good idea and realize he had it as good as it gets. (Well, I thought Robin and I had it better but, you know, fatherly pride.)

He looked at me. “Time to go to bed...I’m almost afraid to look outside but I’m guessing you’re going to be houseguesting for a while. You know you’re welcome.”

I hugged and kissed him. “Bed?”

“Me too….”

It wasn’t a bed, it was a playpen, but a very comfortable one. Just to show our appreciation, rather than sleeping by Robin, mixed it up. He was by Carl, then me then Shay. Whoever you woke up next to in the morning probably would get a snack...hoped so. And then….Jesus was I tired.

Shay was smiling at me when I finally roused.

“No reason to get out of bed, you don’t want to see outside unless you love white in which case...you’re in luck. Hey, Christopher...may I, uh, have a taste?”

“Just get it hard...don’t drain it….it’s early”...and laughed. He smiled and dove under the covers….but surprised me, the taste he wanted was my bag of balls, I could feel his tongue almost grooming my fur, felt good, stuck my hand under the cover, rubbed his head.

Robin wandered by giving Shay’s ass a friendly slap.

“ Hey, Dad? Carl said later he wants us to see something special...they made it.”

After the steel collars, I was interested but, just then, diverted. Shay was slowly licking my shaft, almost like putting something on it preparing it for...something.

The something was a trick I hadn’t felt in a while, someone just takes their teeth and draws them down your dick clenching them slightly at the corona but he added to it...reached up and gave my nips a good pinch. Great sensation, hoped Carl and Robin had found….something although knowing Robin, they had. Doubtless I’d hear later but right now, oh, buddy, yeah, stick that tongue in that piss slit, get it open...almost as good as a sound made of flesh…I know what you want….that piss drink….all for you….bull piss….

Getting out of bed when you’re naked but warm, having a good time and there’s a good chance of sex….but when you’re Robin’s father, you get out of bed. Perfect hosts, they’d laid out sweats and heavy socks. We could find them and the kitchen and the coffee not necessarily in that order of importance. Breakfast was long, good, full on slightly irreverent, interesting talk….I watched Robin enjoy being...almost young. He was at once a cock tease, horny, affectionate, amusing….Robin. Against a backdrop of snow-that continued to fall-clearly we were there for what some call ‘a good visit’.

After a slightly beery lunch Robin and Shay had gone...who knows where. One thing, certainly it was inside, either that or Carl had better acquire a St. Bernard for rescue operations quite soon. The best I could say for the snow was that it had stopped, the wind had died, sun was suddenly out all of which created a wholly unrealistic scene; So fucking bright in the house it was either wear the heaviest tinted Oakleys or keep the curtains pulled-we chose the latter.

None of our clothes, even the heavy weather gear that Jim gave us, worked for indoors so Carl handed round waffle underwear, sweats, zip front hoodie, we had our own boots. By two it was calm, Carl and I were sitting on the couch in front of a rebuilt fire, he’d brought a large thermos of coffee, we were laid back, watching the fire, sporadically talking….about...our boys, our men. I saw Robin as my man, Carl...desperately wanted Shay to  be his son in some context but how.

“ How do you handle it? I mean being Robin’s dad and the sex….”

“You mean how do I fuck my son? That’s how we both want it-you saw the noose around his neck, subtle ways he does what I want him to do….he gets his own way most of the time. You can tell he’s a pistol.”

“Yeah, there should be more like him….” He looked off into a place that wasn’t there and rewrote his current scenario.

“Had an idea…..I, uh….” And stopped.

“Okay, what, I’m over twenty one, there’s not much, unless it’s REALLY twisted, I haven’t seen...” I laughed. “...longer Robin is with me, the more I’m likely to say, I said it, he’s a pistol. What’s on your mind?”

He was almost shy, ducked his head….. “You know, you got that really fine bull cock ‘n….I was wonderin’…...”

“Okay, wondering….what? Whatever you like, I’m proud of my stud meat, ask me….probably get what you want…..”

“Uh, I’d like to watch you fuck your kid….you know, like...a performance sort of...up on a table, let Shay and me watch...jerk off...’n then….” He swallowed hard. “Maybe if he was tied up?”

“What if I let you do the bondage cuz...that’s what you want.”

It was odd to see him almost embarrassed. While this was something Robin and I hadn’t done, knowing Robin, well, he didn’t yet know about it but I had little doubt he’d be in for it.

“You talked this over with Shay?”

“Sorta….”

“And?”

“Well….jeez this is, you’re company….”

“Yeah, we are, part of paying you for what you’ve done for us is doing what would give you some sort of thrill….no fun if you and Shay do it...can’t be an audience to yourself….” I stood up.

“What you want is what you’ve seen on video, porn...but in this case knowing before the action, how they got to that point….fuck, I’ve wondered that myself. Guys just do not show up bound, gagged, electrified…..it happened before the camera rolled and, I don’t know about you, but….watching some guy get prepared for..whatever turns me on.” Maybe watching my own kid made to really submit in more than just the way a good son would. “Just me but...I doubt if many fathers keep their sons hog tied, greased and ready to be screwed….course I could be wrong….”

Carl was on the floor laughing but also with a nicely hardening piece of wood.

“You’d let us take Robin and…..?”

“As I’ve said before, no animals harmed, no children, I know where the cameras are and...it’s your call. You want to do whatever you’ve seen and want to do, well do to him? I’ll just lean back and enjoy the show….unless you want to include me.” Glanced out the window.” I think we’re here for the duration so take your time, you and Shay put some thought into, hey, you don’t want to bore me and have bull cock in your mouth cuz I don’t like the action and decide that more than two can play….”

It was suddenly an odd moment,  for all the talk, there was something...I could sense it but not quite and then it hit me; Suddenly I knew something…

“Carl, I want you to get out all the shit you and Shay have bought, leather, bondage, steel, whips, whatever. Get it out. I know you’ve never used it because it wouldn’t be in boxes in a closet where the two of you were ashamed, like being queer, that you hid it….I’m betting it took a lot of balls just to order it…..sent money orders, only thing you couldn’t do was pray it all came in a plain brown wrappers.” I didn’t mean to but I was so sorry for these really nice guys who’d deprived themselves…..I didn’t quite laugh.

“Come on, dig out the key to the toy room, you got kids coming to play with you…..” And then I did laugh, threw an arm around his shoulder, all I could think to say was…. “Jesus I hope you held on to the sales slips…..”

As with many older homes built out in the middle of nowhere, previous owners had added on this room, that bath, torn something down, put up something else. The result was that except for the large rooms, clearly used by families, the rest of the place was a modified rabbit warren of halls, rooms too small to have a purpose, too large to be useful, storage where you didn’t need it but not even a small closet sized pantry in the kitchen….which clearly had been attached to a hen house during some iteration. No way they could have told a guest where something was, show and tell and guide was the only way.

Down a hall that seemed to have been built on the bias, he stopped, opened a door, reached in, turned on a light and…..holy shit….if you ever wondered where UPS left boxes, bags, strangely wrapped shapes, this was the place. Must have been ten of the self-assembly metal shelves, eight shelves to a rack, the top one being at least six feet tall...and that was before you stacked boxes on top of that. Not to mention the larger things, crates, large boxes, that were all about the floor, the whole room, almost filled to the ceiling.

I just stood there never dreaming I’d see so many “inconspicuously wrapped packages”.

Just looked at him. He bowed his head, clearly embarrassed, there was no way not to deny their existence and, since nothing had been opened, no way to deny whatever was in them had never been used.

“Listen, uhm, I know this got a little out of hand….but….see….Shay and I would look in the magazines, get catalogs and, Christopher, hell, I don’t know what happened, we’d order something then when it came...well...you know our situation about being ashamed so we just started putting ‘em in here...”

“How long ago? Bush’s second term? Jesus, Carl….without even thinking how much money you spent, why in hell didn’t you at least open….something….you had to know what was in them unless all this….” I waved my hand to indicate what I suddenly thought of as the ‘shipping department’… “was ordered in one day which….no….”

He sank into a chair shamed at what the two of them had done, shamed that until he found two (sort of) G.I.s making out by the side of the road, they’d never realized that maybe, just maybe it was...okay...a little, maybe. And now they had….I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Shamed that their innocence led them to buy the paraphernalia of kink and sex but had not a glimmer of an idea of to use it. What they’d seen in videos, in pictures, didn’t translate into action…

“Carl, look at me. We all started out innocent...it just breaks my heart that two great guys have been stranded by your own...fears and concerns …. that you’d buy all this shit and never even looked at it, maybe that would have been some sort of turn on, given you some…..pleasure.”

He sat there, head in hands, tears coming through his fingers not saying anything for there was nothing for him to say.

Leaving him I started a walking tour of who knew what? Coming to my senses, I began to look at the labels-no box was marked-as they guaranteed it would not be-displaying what might be inside. In my mind I was developing a system for an oddball primary sort. Maybe it was reputation, maybe it was just impulse but anything that had shipped from San Francisco, or the bay area, I began to pull and stack. Ditto for things from overseas, New York, city or state….ten minutes later I had a modest collection of...whatever lay inside. Assuming that nothing used for sexual kink is breakable, shaking was productive, some things went clank, some things made a sort of ‘soft’ noise...clothes? Whatever, it was time to get a warehouse man to participate and I knew the very one.

“Bring your chair over here, now, we got a ton of work to do...”

Almost reluctantly he did. Sorry for him? Yeah, to the point I had him stand, embraced him, kissed him, told him I’d just uncovered the past and now we’d bury it AND put to fucking good use some of the crap around us.

“One day...I figured it up, kind of, we spent close to, maybe, over hundred, hundred and fifty thousand dollars….”

Anyone who’d been around gay sex, no matter how involved or not you were, had to have seen ads for everything. The more exotic, erotic, bizarre, hand made, custom made something was, the more it cost. One place sold condoms made just for the purchaser with an array of ‘possibilities’ that almost scared me. But almostas more frightening than getting punched with latex covered razor blades chips was the price; They started at $ 99.99 for a box of six, no discount on larger orders. So did I fully understand how they could have spent the money? You bet. The only question was...what had they bought?

“Stand up, we’re about to have Christmas in February.” Almost reluctantly he did. I dug into one pile trying to remember a larger box that had clanked...he was in the metal working business, this was probably metal...the yellow brick road to Kink City started with the grand opening of...whatever it was. The good thing here was, unlike a more traditional holiday, no one present had wrapped it so whatever appeared would surprise everyone.

I have never seen a grown man more delicately open a box. As would anyone, I had, he shook it, tried to identify the ‘clank’ then shook it again. No going back, he ripped into the top-using a bit too much vigor-causing it to upend itself allowing the contents to fall on the floor. Where it clanked. He reached down, picked it up, removed the brown paper and was holding...a metal thing. Which clanked. It took me a minute to realize what he had was actually two things. Undoing some twist ties then separating them, he was now the proud (?) possessor of a pair of fore arm metal gauntlets, complete with leather straps to hold them on. Since he seemed to have drifted into some sort of catatonic state, I put them on him then grabbed another box, opened it only to find a sack which contained a Polyester, full body cat suit. Uh hmmm. Two of them. One size fits most. Another ….Leather harness with a drop down strap and metal circle in which to shove your cock and balls….two of them. Some nasty looking dick lock down tubes, with metal spikes inside, just the thing to clamp over your cock then discover what pain is when you get hard. Two of them. Of course.

Apparently my rough handling of one of the boxes was an ‘oops’ as it was now drooling plus giving off an odor. Lube? Body Oil? Something guaranteed to ‘enhance your sexual arousal’? My arousal was a need to find a large trash barrel, probably several of them. While he didn’t have to be slapped to get his attention, it wasn’t an easily done thing; His first task, clad in something vaguely kinky on his arms, find something for the trash.

There was no coherent way to organize this project, just have some place for the trash, as things got opened and, if possible, identified, put them back in however they’d been shipped then start accumulating piles of things that had some relevance to each other. I.E. Anything leather that could be worn, even if I wasn’t sure where or how, in one pile. Metal separated into piles that were wearable or were to be stuck on or up or in...another pile. (At one point I found a selection of cock sounds, not one of which, even if oiled with 10-W 40, would I have got near my piss slit; Things that can give you a paper burn in just handling them do no belong in my urethra. I’m sure for some it’s fun...however…)

Several hours later Shay, looking just fucked along with Robin, also looking recently fucked, stumbled onto me in the room with the fire place. To anyone seeing me the expression “Rode hard and put up wet” had immediate application. Robin flopped down  beside me, concerned….I did manage to rotate my head to look at him but those were dead, dead eyes that saw my son...sort of. Covered with dust, flecks of packing, that God Awful excelsior -hair attracts this shit like meth attracts a druggie- which had attracted peanuts didn’t show me at my best. In the process I’d stripped as it got warmer so was now naked-if you discounted looking like I was waiting for someone from shipping to come and get me, wrap me and put me out for FEDEX or whomever.. Shay knelt in front of me…

“Are you all right? Where’s Carl? What’s…..”

We hadn’t planned it, just lucky I guess, but as Shay wondered where his partner was, he appeared. Or, more accurately, Something appeared covered in leather, metal, latex, a sound hanging from his dick, both balls in a sort of cage thing that we may, or may not be able to unlock (Hell, they were in metal work, it could be cut off.) Bishop’s hood, gloves with spikes, you get the idea. No self respecting gay bar, whatever their proclivity, would have let him in as, clearly, just to be near him could be dangerous. For example, the collar with twelve inch spikes, sharpened, I touched the end of one-there was still a faint drool of blood from one index finger.

The two of them just sat there, hypnotized by, hell, I don’t know, fuckings of holidays past? Robin finally gulped out….

“What’s that.”

Never let a father not do everything he can for his son. “That’s what’s going to fuck you in a couple of minutes.” To my credit, and I could say this rarely, he was almost concerned. “Dad? For serious?”

I dragged myself up from the couch and, carefully approached the mystery man shedding packing popcorn and other shit as I walked. Carefully, and I do mean carefully, I got the more dangerous bits from him, unsnapped, unlatched, unbuckled what I could, left in place that for which there seemed to be some special tool to release and, finally, mostly, there was Carl. I looked straight at Shay.

“Ever wonder what was in all those hundreds of boxes of sex stuff the two of you ordered?” There was no reason to finish the sentence or answer the question.

“Buddy, we, I mean I...he and I just started opening….what we’ve been buying and….”

“Shay, come with me, you need the partially guided tour.”

Maybe an hour later I returned with my latest tribute to kink fashion. For Shay I’d found a full cat suit, only holes were for his balls, cock, ass and eyes. One black leather bondage harness that went  from tightly around his neck to almost to his cock and was fastened up the back so the wearer needed a partner to get both in and out of the cowhide and metal contraption. From it hung snaps which held chains that depended and wrapped around some sort of metal cock wrap, held on with very large, very heavy padlocks on either side. Clips on his nuts which held more chain and, at the end, weights. I believe five pounds on each side. It said on the package that if one wore these for several hours a day for several months, you would have low hangers. (To which I mentally added if you still had balls...) Knee length biker boots, shiny black leather, a large chain around the instep and ankle. (Inside the box there was an invoice for the two pair of custom made boots: $ 1,926.00 plus postage. That hundred grand plus? Easy to see where and how it went. Many of just the few things we’d got into were custom made or at least fitted. Nothing, in personal use crap yet, hit the price of the boots but having found one (1!) piece of bondage furniture-still a lot of assembly required-$15,308. Plus postage. Just looking at the artfully rusted iron, I couldn’t fucking even begin to guess what it was when assembled.)

Around what would have been his mouth, a metal gag that pressed through the fabric and effectively shut him up. I’d also added  fake earrings , nose bull ring as well as a tongue ring but that was a surprise for after the cat suit was finally removed. (There had been four more, two in latex, two in leather but the Spandex number was easier to put on.) Not one to let any hole go unfilled, out his ass was the end of a very realistic flesh colored fully electrified currently vibrating dildo which made him almost scream when I shoved it in. Told him it prepared him for a bull cock that I knew was in his future. Oh, and to make sure he didn’t remove anything, he had on steel mesh mittens, connected by a short chain to his harness. In other words, that dildo stayed stuck up his ass although it wasn’t the first I’d tried in him; By stuffing time I’d got him secured so his ability to try and resist the many, many things that went in and out his tail was non-existent. Truth is, based on a certain innocence on my part, I wasn’t sure I knew whether what I was holding was a something to be stuffed up somewhere, something added on after the stuffing or….maybe it was meant to be sexually decorative-although just how eluded me. Frankly after a certain number of items had been opened and inspected, I was convince a lot of this crappola was made to be sold to an unwary-but eager-fetishist with the parameters of what it actually did not quite spelled out. Not a few things ended up, with their packaging, in the trash if neither of us could figure out what it was, a purpose or placement.

Need I mention that what the guys had worn might just now, I say again, might have constituted deliveries for a couple of days. I had looked in some of the other cases-there was more bondage furniture (some [well, lots of] assembly required) and God knows what else. It had also given me an idea which I did not ‘share’ (A word I hate) with the gang.

“Figure out how to strip the sex wear off him yourselves, if I don’t get this fucking excelsior out of my fur…..” and stalked off to the shower. At least I knew where it was.

I’ll give it to the guys, they had a bathroom like most men want. Up to and including a standing urinal. (Huh-have to ask why?) The shower came at you from everywhere while a twist of various knobs, added to the spray. It was great. One thing, no idea how much hot water was available so I got wet, got washed and got out. Prior to that I’d found a brush and curried my cock and nuts; The carpet in part of the bathroom was now in desperate need of vacuuming.

Back in front of the fire the guys were, mainly, released from their sex gear. One thing around Carl’s nuts would have to be either cut or sawed off-a lesson to them not to put on anything that they did not know how to remove or did not come with something very obviously included to assist in removal. Given my brief tour of the boxes, what had struck me was that a lot of that shit was sold on the appearance of what it might do but when you got it home….how useful it might be was questionable. I thought about the over hundred and fifty grand they’d spent and hoped...well….it was time to tell them about something in their near future, something they didn’t order, cost them nothing but, I knew for certain, would please them.

After my shower, knowing we were all destined to hit the unwrapping room, I just threw on a pair of those great heavy wool socks and called myself dressed. Now, the three of them, collapsed on the couch, we each had a glass filled with Bourbon-we’d earned it. Standing akimbo, the way one does when you’re expecting something, I held an item fished out of a plain wrapped box. Suddenly slapping a thick, wide black leather belt against the palm of my hand, I looked at Robin. “Put on your collar and get over here, Dad is going to give you what you like then fuck you flat...”. I dragged a chair to me with my foot then sat down, legs fairly wide waiting for them to be covered with my son’s flesh, his cock hanging down, his white ass….

The men were galvanized at what was going to happen, no expectation of this, but, now, in front of them….

“Give me your leash, lick me hard, hand on my balls, squeeze…..stop. Over my lap.”

With my bull cock up and touching his abdomen, his feet and hands almost on the floor I held the leash in one hand  the doubled belt in the other.

The first strike sounded like a bullet coming through a plate glass window, so did the second and the third. There was a rhythm I wanted, found it, kept pounding him. I could feel his dick getting harder and harder, his nuts probably hiding in him. 17, 18, 19…...bright red, this was a different kind of cherried out ass. 26,27….blood was almost ready to seep through. 30 and I stopped.

“Thank You Sir, More Sir. Blood, Sir, please, Sir”

32, 33, 34...the first tendrils of red crept out of a tear. I paused while I leaned over, licked it, struck him again, 35, more blood, 36, 37, 38, his ass was in full flux. I dropped the belt, tightened his leash, made his hands grab the almost choking collar then applied my tongue on him, in him, deep in him, where the results of my work were running to hide. I could feel, sense, know his arousal, it was almost time but first…..

“Up, soldier, full brace. Hold there.”

With the blood running down the back of his legs, he did just that, waiting, this was something new, never done. I grabbed his prong… “Good, just what I want, my son hard, hard enough….”

I lay across the chair ass up. “…..to fuck his Dad. Now. Don’t come, I want to be fed, mix your two life waters in my mouth...I want to eat my Son. Now, get on it, hard.”

That’s when he teared up, happy, this was the proof his Dad really loved him, the beating, the coda to love. His strong man ax sunk into me almost pushing aside my prostate. No holding back, he knew and would punish me until blood gushed out, both of us would feed on the other, I wondered what it would be like at these moments if I wore his collar? If I should be almost strangled into grabbing his meaty dick, suffocating it? Felt good, my son, oh….so …..good. Deep, no hesitation, just pounding waiting for the tingle of hot blood on his hot cock.

He jumped off me, pulled both of us onto the floor, took my bull schlong in his mouth while I let his sink in back to my throat. No waiting, the cum was there, pouring out, tasting like no flavor but my son….blood and semen, the two things that keep a man living, wanting another man, wanting to eat them, know their taste, know they want the same from you. Jesus Fuck I love my Son.

Emptied but not willing to give each other up, we lay there nursing like pigs on a sow, tonguing, licking, chewing. I rolled him, stuck my rolled flesh straw down his bloody crevasse, started to peel the forming scar to make it bleed more, his butt was a tracery of him, what he wanted to have me devour, slurp up, keep those slits open….One day, I knew it, he’d want to have a collection of marks I’d given him, carefully irrigated with the salt from my saline drenched tongue. I would tattoo my Son in his own blood.

We could not part, stood up, held each other. I could feel his head tilt slightly back, his mouth reach for my throat...one last thing, place, device, the brand made with teeth. I do not know how long we stood there, our hands racing over our bodies, feeling to make sure even soft tissue was hardening in desire. His teeth in my neck, my mark from him, his, I knew, would be on me. No one could even imagine that we two men did not love each other. Further back, on the road, choking the life out of him I’d said, it only went one way, the two of us, together. If I had to murder him, then, there, in the cold, I would but that would end in my surrendering, being only sorry that I would die with a needle and not dangling below a gallows, a noose kissing my neck…..then, now his choice was  me, my choice was him.

Almost as if choreographed, our faces swung toward one another, my hand below his chin, his below mine, our lips open, tongues placidly laying in the mouth of the other. Soft, warm, like having a friendly fat snake curled up.

Without releasing him, I swept him up, held him, my Son in my strong arms and started toward a place where we could rest. Out of one eye, I saw our buddies, mouths involuntarily dropped open, hands wound so hard around their  buddies dick that the knuckles in the fingers were white. Sloppy cum drizzled down their faces, eye lashes glued shut, a dimple filled to capacity.

On the bed I lay my son on his back then rolled him to admire his blood mark. Some day, those marks….someday I would keep those bleeding cracks open enough times with my salty spit that all I had to do was eat off the scars. One day I would tattoo my own Son’s ass with his own  blood…..

Next: Picture Perfect and Chained Mail.

by Petr-Johan

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