M4M kink writing. Control and transformation of men. 18+ only.

Month: August 2022 (Page 1 of 5)

A Son for the Weekend (excerpt)

The following excerpt is from A Son for the Weekend: A Gay Taboo/Age Gap Story, which is available exclusively for purchase on Kindle.

The five-hour drive to Bearden’s lake house got off to an uneventful start. As soon as they piled into Ted’s SUV, Matteo put his earbuds in and leaned his seat back. The younger hunk was asleep and snoring before they even got onto the highway. As relieved as Ted had been when Matteo agreed to come along, he grew more and more anxious with each passing mile. After an hour on the road, he was even questioning the wisdom of his decision. The lie had gotten so far out of hand that Ted was bringing a stranger to a weekend at his boss’ house, and despite Matteo’s initial acceptance of Ted’s offer, there was no guarantee that he would agree to also play the role of Ted’s son for the next three days. 

It didn’t help Ted’s anxiety that Matteo was mind-numbingly hot. More than once, Ted’s attention wandered from the road ahead to the sleeping stud next to him, especially once he stretched out in the passenger’s seat and put his ripped body on full display. Even if Matteo played along, would Ted be able to? He would have to be on his best behavior, lest his boss catch him stealing glances at the hot younger guy who would be masquerading as his son. 

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Courtesy call

Marc’s hands trembled as he reached for his cell phone. As soon as he had it safely in his sweaty palm, a pair of gloved hands clamped onto his shoulders and pulled him roughly back into his chair. Marc sighed with pleasure as the scent of Master’s leather gear filled his nostrils, and the sensation of Master’s hands on his naked body sent waves of arousal radiating outward from each point of contact. 

The phone continued to ring, but Marc hesitated to answer. He felt awkward taking this call while sitting naked in his Master’s dungeon. It was a further step in blurring the lines between facets of his life that were, until recently, strictly compartmentalized. Master deserved credit for blurring a lot of those lines Himself, and Marc had a hunch that the bank’s urgent requests to speak to him might be related to his new status as Master’s slave. 

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Caged at Work (excerpt)

The following excerpt is from Caged at Work: A Gay Chastity Story, which is available exclusively for purchase on Kindle.

This is your productivity system?” Tom said, holding up the small metal object. “This is a chastity cage.” 

Larson shot Tom a stern look, but Benjamin defused the rising tension with a casual wave of the hand. 

“I prefer to call it a Concentration and General Efficiency device, or CAGE, for short.” 

As Tom looked around the room, it was clear that none of his colleagues had ever seen a chastity cage before. He turned to Larson, who was fiddling with a set of differently sized rings on the table. “And you want us to wear these? At work?”

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Single-day project, part 2 (My perfect dad 40)

See Single-day project, part 1 for the first part of this story.

As usual, when the uplink terminated at the end of the day, the first thing I heard was the shriek of data noise in my head. I looked at my surroundings. It was nighttime, and I was alone sitting on a park bench in a neighborhood I didn’t recognize. I was still wearing the printed clothes I’d received that morning—a tight white T-shirt with DAD printed in block letters on the left breast and a pair of equally snug dark shorts. My entire body was drenched in sweat, which made my clothes cling to my skin. I was also holding a leash, with a golden retriever sitting obediently at my feet at the other end. 

That’s weird, I thought. If the project is over, why do I still have this dog

True to the confidentiality agreement I’d signed earlier that day, I had absolutely zero memories of the nature of the single-day project, or even anything I’d done that day. As the data noise quieted down inside my head, I waited for confirmation that Synaptica had processed my payment and the post-assignment instructions for how to arrange transportation home. 

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Single-day project, part 1 (My perfect dad 39)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

I always wanted to work for ThinkCorp because of their flashy slogan: New and Different Every Day. They weren’t kidding. No two days were alike, and I loved it that way.  

Occasionally, I’d get an assignment that lasted a week or two, but ThinkCorp only put me on those out of necessity. My demographic profile and skills inventory were much better suited to single-day projects. Heh, or so I was told. 

I used to get anxious about what each day’s project would be. When I first started, I would stay up late so I could be at my workstation at 3:14 a.m. precisely, when new ThinkCorp assignments were pushed out to the field. After about six months on the job, once I’d gotten the hang of things and received positive feedback on my projects, that changed. I started to enjoy the uncertainty and the surprise of receiving my instructions each morning. 

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Reinforcements (My perfect dad 38)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

Out in the real world, I was usually invisible. I preferred it that way. When no one is paying attention to you, there’s no one to disappoint. No one makes your life miserable just because they’re bored and they’ve decided to make you their free entertainment. At my job, I was just another junior copywriter, one of a dozen laboring away in identical cubicles. At my favorite bookstore, I was just some brainy nerd who knew everything there was to know about the Diet of Worms. In my group of friends, I was the quiet one who always showed up on time and who always left behind extra cash to supplement everyone else’s embarrassingly small tips. In the real world, I was ordinary and unremarkable. Maybe even forgettable. 

But at home, I was Master Paul, the young, dominant owner of three hot, submissive, older men. Every morning I woke up to one of them gently kissing Me awake, while another ironed My work clothes and the third prepared breakfast. Everywhere else, I was just another mild mannered twenty something with too many student loans and a goatee that never quite grew in right. But here, I am the Master, and what I say goes. They’re all 20 years or more My senior, and each of them is a respected professional in their field. But at home, they’re My property. 

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My Master’s Wallet (excerpt)

The following excerpt is from My Master’s Wallet: A Gay Findom Story, which is available exclusively for purchase on Kindle.

My date prodded me in the small of my back away from the counter, and we took a table in the back corner. Remembering the experience with the door, I went out on a limb and pulled out a chair for him. He smiled—a full one this time, not just a half smile—and sat down with his legs splayed wide. I tried to avoid staring at his bulging crotch, but I couldn’t help myself. The light gray fabric against the inside of his thighs was darkened with sweat. I thought again about my wallet and how strange it was that that it got to touch his cock before I did. I had a million questions going through my mind as I sat down opposite him, but his admonition from earlier still echoed in my head. 

Brent set his cup down on the table and placed my wallet on the chair, resting gently against his bulge. I couldn’t look away. I wanted so badly to be my wallet. 

Black wallet with money inside and dollar bills on top on white background” by wuestenigel is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
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What dad thinks (My perfect dad 37)

 This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

I can’t believe it’s only been six months. There’s a part of me that is grateful You’ve changed my appearance so drastically, Son. At least I can go out in public without ex-friends and ex-colleagues noticing me. The beard and all the beef helps a lot, but I hate the way You dress me up and force me to act when You take me out, Son. It’s humiliating. No one really believes I’m Your dad. 

But I say it, loudly and proudly wherever we go. Why does that get You off so much, Son?  It’s perverted and twisted, and I hate it so much. Like yesterday at the Waffle House, when I refused the menu and said, “I’ll let my hot Son order for both of U/us. He knows what’s best for His dumb ole dad.” Why does that turn You on? And why is it starting to turn me on? 

Breakfast at Waffle House” by rpavich is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
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Influencer (My perfect dad 36)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

People have started to recognize me in public—at the grocery store, at the gym, even in the drive-thru. I used to enjoy the attention, and there’s a tiny part of me that still does, I guess. But ever since Son found out, it’s not been the same. 

It started with just some short videos on Instagram of me doing work around the house. I didn’t even know Son was recording me doing chores, raking leaves, and working out in the garage. When I started gaining a following, He had me do other stuff on camera. Embarrassing stuff. The most popular video so far was of me dropping a birthday cake on the floor and then falling face first into it. It was staged, but Son said I did a good job making it look real. 

Birthday cake smashed on the ground
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Property transfer (My perfect dad 35)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

When I returned to full awareness, I was on my knees. This part was not uncommon. Son often switched me off when He had some new programming to install in my head. Sometimes, I would wake up hours, even days later, in a different location, wearing different clothes. There was always a moment of disorientation before Son’s programming activated, but in a minute or two the installation would be complete, and the new information would override anything I’d previously thought or believed. 

The difference this time was that there was no new programming. I knelt on the cold pavement waiting for the new thoughts to fill my head, but nothing did. 

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