Reporting as ordered (My perfect dad 9)

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 am smiling, but I am not happy. 

I am exhausted. And hungry. And sore. And yet, as I look at my reflection in the locker room mirror, I can’t help but be turned on by what I see. A thick beard, meaty pecs, even the beginnings of some abs showing under my pelt of belly fur. 

Damn, I’m a hot dad. Can’t wait to show my Son this pic. He’s going to be so proud of His old man. Maybe, if my measurements look good this week, He’ll take me to Buddies for bear night and let me buy drinks for all His friends. God, I love serving my hot Son. 

No. Stop it. Don’t lose your mind again so soon, man. You’re smarter than this. Stop staring at your body and focus. He’s not your Son. He’s some random guy you met on a business trip. God, why didn’t I put a stop to it when I had a chance? 

I know why. I’d always been a little curious about, well, being with a man. He flirted with me, told me I was pretty hot for an older guy. I told him I was flattered, but I had a wife and four kids back home. 

“That’s okay, daddy,” He said as He massaged my shoulder. “No one needs to know.” And then He said a whole bunch of things I can’t clearly recall. 

I never returned from my business trip. Who knows how long my family kept looking for me?  However long it was, it wouldn’t have mattered. I didn’t leave my Son’s—no, dammit, call Him by His name. Do you even remember His name?  Did you ever know His real name in the first place? 

I didn’t leave my Son’s house for months. He made me work out for hours every day, listening to the same music on a loop. Only after I’d bulked up enough was I allowed to go outside again, and even then only to the gym, the grocery store, and Buddies, where I barback a couple nights a week. 

The chastity cage I wear under my shorts is a constant reminder of how aroused I am by what my hot Son has done to me and how helpless I am to do anything about it. 

I am smiling, and I am happy.