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

Tag: service

The handshake

Harry tapped his fingertips against his desk, growing more impatient with each passing minute. He’d never had to wait ten minutes for an employee to respond to his emails, and the lack of response had gone from inconvenient to irritating. He scrolled through the list of his direct reports on the company’s instant messenger client, and his brow furrowed when he saw a small, yellow circle denoting inactive next to each of their names and portraits. 

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning,” Harry said to himself. “Where the hell is everybody?” 

Close up of two men shaking hands
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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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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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