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

DadMan at the beach (My perfect dad 53)

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As I stood on the balcony of our hotel suite, the warm ocean breeze tousling my increasingly salt-and-pepper chest hair, I couldn’t help but be suspicious of the long overdue peace that washed over me. I peered down at the turquoise waves breaking gently on the shore, studying them as if they couldn’t be real. The last six months had taken every bit of time, energy, and give-a-damn that I had in the tank.

The soothing rhythm of sea against sand accomplished something that the overnight flight and the water taxi to the resort hadn’t. I finally felt transported a million miles away from the cacophony of my double life. Here, on this secluded tropical island, I wasn’t Mike Dawson, the middle-aged executive with a stack of unread emails and looming KPI deadlines. Nor was I DadMan, the caped superhero the press couldn’t get enough of and whose secret identity every newspaper in town wanted to expose.  

No, here, I was just a guy, excited and grateful for the prospect of finally relaxing with Frank. Ever since he discovered my secret identity, my hunky boyfriend had become my rock, supporting me as I struggled to balance my career and our relationship with the superpowers I never asked for. Squinting under the midday sun, I looked over my shoulder back into our room. I saw Frank stretching languidly on the sun-kissed bed, unaware of how much this time together meant to me.  

“This place is perfect,” he said, half yawning in the middle of a stretch. Limbs outstretched, he made a snow angel in the center of the bed, prompting a chuckle from me. “Time to unwind and forget about saving the world.”  

I nodded, though a hint of tension lingered behind my eyes. Unbeknownst to Frank, I had smuggled my work laptop and my Lycra DadMan suit into my carry on. “That’s the plan,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing enough. “No work, no superhero stuff. Just us.”  

Frank and I took our time getting sunscreen onto each other’s bodies, making the most of our tactile mutual admiration society. DadMan may look decent enough in Lycra, but my body is average. On the other hand, Frank’s is as if Michaelangelo had sculpted David as a hairy fifty year old. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to reacquaint myself intimately with every inch of his form, all for the noble cause of UV protection.  

An hour later, I was lounging poolside with a good book in one hand and an overpriced tropical drink in the other. As much as I tried to focus on the thriller I was reading, I found myself pleasantly distracted by Frank doing laps in the pool. Every time he swam past me, he surfaced and flashed me one of those smiles that melt the hearts of middle-aged gay superheroes like me. The sun warmed my skin, and, for once, I felt no urgent pull to save the day—just the gentle tug of Frank’s smile, not to mention the way he filled out the pouch of a Speedo. With Frank’s work-related travel and my unpredictable hours protecting the city, our sex life had been lacking in recent weeks. It was something we both intended to rectify while we were away.  

Frank finished his swim, and we both lost ourselves in our novels until our serene bubble was punctured by the arrival of a boisterous group of frat guys. They took residence on the lounge chairs beside us, immediately blasting music through a portable speaker and bringing a tray full of shots over from the bar. Their raucous antics shattered the tranquility of my poolside afternoon with Frank. As much as I tried to ignore them, I could already feel the tendrils of my superpower coursing through my veins.  

Frank sensed my irritation and tried to play it off. “Guess we picked the wrong spot.”  

“Just ignore them.” I gritted my teeth, trying to follow my own advice. Meanwhile, DadMan bubbled under the surface, threatening to take over.  

“Cannonball!” one of the guys shouted, launching himself into the pool with a massive splash that drenched Frank and me, along with our phones, beach towels, and books.  

Surprised, I stood up and shook the water off my book. From the corner of my eye, I saw a flickering electric blue energy arc over my left shoulder. Uh oh, I thought.  

I never wanted to be DadMan, and as much as I tried to resist the urge to use my newly acquired superpowers, sometimes they got the better of me. Over the months, I’d improved at directing my powers and reducing collateral damage. But the shock and surprise of being caught in a frat guy cannonball overrode my control. The power coursed down my arms and concentrated in my hands. I could either release it or blow up the entire resort.  

I closed my eyes and aimed at the frat bros. Twin columns of electric blue light emanated from my outstretched hands, enveloping the offenders on contact. The release of so much pent-up power caused my cock to stir, and within seconds I was already tenting my swim trunks.  

The transformation was swift and seamless. The frat guys’ bright board shorts and tank tops morphed into crisp, white linen shirts tucked into tailored khaki shorts. The cheap rubber flip-flops on their feet became smart loafers. Their obnoxious music fell silent, and their baker’s dozen of vodka shots disappeared into murky oblivion, replaced by mojitos and caipirinhas.  

Sweat trickled down my brow as I focused the rest of my superpower energy on the cannonballer himself. Having just witnessed the transformation of his buds, he bobbed up and down in the water, his scraggly bearded face wearing a look of bewilderment and dread.  

If it’s any consolation, I thought, you won’t remember any of this.  

He attempted to swim away, but the blue light I released from my hands caught up to him. Almost immediately, his unkempt beard vanished, and his shoulder-length chestnut hair morphed into a smart-looking taper cut. He swam toward the pool ladder and climbed out, displaying a tight-fitting Speedo in place of his frayed cargo shorts. I couldn’t help noticing the outline of a chastity cage in the bulge of his swimsuit. I knew the rest of his buddies would be locked, too. DadMan never let an offender off without securing his cock in a cage.  

Cannonball guy grabbed a pool towel and slung it around his neck as he walked toward us. Every few steps, he adjusted himself in his Speedo. When he finally approached, he outstretched his Speedo hand for Frank and me to shake.  

“Terribly sorry about the splashing, gents,” he said, the loutish rasp of his voice replaced by an even baritone and clipped vowels. “Don’t know what got into me. Won’t happen again.”  

Frank and I thanked him for his apology and let him rejoin his friends. I returned to my lounge chair and pretended to read my waterlogged novel, but I looked sideways through my sunglasses at the former frat guys. Now serene and composed, they conversed quietly, and I strained my ears to overhear.  

“You know, fellas, this place is really beautiful,” one of them remarked. “We should respect it more.”  

“Absolutely,” another agreed. “It is essential to maintain order and follow the rules.”  

They seemed puzzled and uncomfortable at first, subtly adjusting themselves and shifting in their seats as they became used to the unfamiliar restraints locked on their manhood. Gradually, they accepted their new state, and their body language became more reserved and composed as they chatted inanely. 

“Wow,” Frank said, grinning and leaning closer. Even though he wore sunglasses, I could tell he was stealing glances at the tent in my trunks.  

“You know I don’t have the best control over my powers,” I grimaced. “At least those guys won’t disturb anyone else’s vacation.”  

“It’s a hell of a trick,” Frank said. “You know, it’s kind of hot seeing you bring order like that.”  

He rested his rugged hand on my thigh and slid it a few inches closer to my crotch.  

“Hey,” I said. “We agreed no superhero stuff on vacation.”  

“Don’t play dumb with me, DadMan,” he said. “I know you brought the suit with you.” 

I set my book down and gave Frank a devilish grin. “Let’s go back to the room,” I said. “I think I still need to blow off some steam.” 

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4 Comments

  1. BKbrawn

    Dadman to the rescue again! Methinks the resort may not be totally free of future disruptions…

    • Jay Hypno

      Haha, you’re thinking very deviously. I like it! Thanks so much for the comment.

  2. Elm

    ‘Dadman’ has to be among my favorite series of yours haha. It’s somehow fun, kinky and wholesome at the same time!

    I would love to see into the life of a transformed subject, or more specifically, how the rest of the world handles the changes. I can’t help myself but overthink it haha.

    Like if a middle-aged man gets zapped by Dadman, how does life for him and his family (Example: strangled son) changes? It doesn’t seem to be retroactive, based on what we saw on this chapter with Dadman and Frank still getting drenched, so my guess is that the past happened in a similar way, but the future is going to be drastically different.

    Still, thanks for writing it!

    • Jay Hypno

      Oh man, thanks so much for the comment! I love the feedback here. It sounds like a full DadMan novel might be in order to fully flesh out this story.

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