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Category: Tumblr classics (Page 1 of 4)

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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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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When Sir became Son (My perfect dad 34)

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.

The atmosphere at Buzzwords was not what Fred was used to. Everything from the music to the menu to the uncomfortable chairs screamed too many things to him. Too trendy. Too cool. Too youthful. Easily the oldest person in the café by two decades, Fred felt like an anachronism and like everyone in the place was staring at him, judging him. “Who’s the old guy at the corner table?” he was certain they were thinking. All he wanted to do was leave. 

And yet he remained seated at the table by the restrooms, just as he’d been instructed to. Every few seconds, Fred checked his phone, but there was no message. His breath caught in his chest as he re-read Sir’s instructions. 

Man sitting in chair at cafe with back to camera
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Himbo dad (My perfect dad 33)

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.

The traffic light changed to yellow, and a moment later, to red. Good. I was still a hundred yards from the intersection, but I lowered my foot onto the brake and allowed my mind to wander. There were no other cars out on the roads this late. Well, judging by the hint of purple-gray dawn in the eastern sky, it was early, not late. 

Jealous Friend’s Wanna Say Hi was playing low enough on my car stereo that I could only hear the thumping bass. I turned it up and did a little dance, shuffling my shoulders and my arms in time to the music. I loved that song. It reminded me of my Son. My hot Son. 

Stylized image of Foot Locker store
interior foot locker” by Consumerist Dot Com is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
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Early retirement (My perfect dad 32)

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.

My boyfriend Nick and I never agreed on how to answer the “So how did you guys meet?” question. I preferred to give half truths or vague retellings without detail. I usually went with the simple “We worked together.” It was just enough to answer the question without inviting follow ups. Nick, on the other hand, never shied away from telling the whole truth. “Brock and I were actors together in an adult film.” 

I’m a little embarrassed about my former life making the kinds of films they show in the backs of gay bars. I did it when I was in college to make some extra cash, and it was a great gig, but I never intended to make a career out of it. I certainly never expected I’d fall in love with one of my costars. But fall in love I did. Nick and I have been together for seven years, and in that time, I’ve settled into a comfortable and well-paying tech job, happy to leave my past in the past. Nick always used to say that the next film would be his last. Even after I started earning more than enough money to support us both, he kept signing on for “just one more film.” 

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True, north, strong, and free (My perfect dad 31)

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 was in a hurry, and it showed. The pretzels and potato chips were strewn haphazardly about the plate. I’d spilled some dip trying to do too many things at once. The whole thing was a mess, and I was running out of time. 

“Hey, dad! Where’s the food?” 

I tried to mop my sweaty brow with the bottom of my t-shirt, but it was too tight and too short to reach. 

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Selected (My perfect dad 30)

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.

The windowless room was thick with the smell of cigar smoke, leather, and sweat. My brothers and I had roughhoused enough for one day. It was time to relax and wait for our visitor to get here. 

“What do you think he’ll be like?” I said. 

Master” (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by bearloveorg
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