Can a daddy-dom sexual relationship between an older man and a shy femboy lead to real love? This is chapter 1 of an ongoing series.
Chapter 1
Scribbling in his sketchbook, Jay sits slouched against the wall in the corner of the library, his headphones drowning out the usual quiet sounds of the almost empty library. He doesn't notice Tom Smith approaching until their shadow falls across the page, blocking out the light.
“Oh... hey...it's you…” Jay's voice is soft and tentative.
“You're Jay, right? You were in my drawing class last semester.”
Jay’s eyes flicker up, only to dart back down to his sketchbook as if it holds the answers
to his unease. He pulls one headphone off, letting it dangle against his collarbone, and his fingers tighten around the pencil like a lifeline.
“Y-yeah... I was,” he admits, his voice a mere whisper, thick with apprehension. “I... I remember your class. You... you gave me an A.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t an A minus?” Tom teases lightly, a hint of mischief in his tone.
A faint blush creeps up Jay’s neck, warmth spreading through him as he nervously taps the pencil against the paper. His gaze remains glued to the half-finished sketch of a willow tree, its branches drooping like heavy thoughts, while his shoulders tense at the playful jab.
“N-no... it was... an A,” he stammers, swallowing hard as his voice quivers just slightly. “I... I worked really hard on that final piece. The... the charcoal landscape.”
“So what are you drawing now?” Tom leans in, curiosity glinting in his eyes, breaking the fragile bubble of silence that envelops them.
Jay hesitated, fingers tightening around the edge of his sketchbook as if it were a lifeline. Slowly, he turned the book to reveal a meticulously detailed pencil drawing of the library's stained-glass window, the sunlight streaming through it casting delicate patterns across the page. His voice emerged soft and uncertain, like a whisper carried on a breeze. “Just practicing perspective. The window’s arches are tricky.” He bit his lip, glancing up for a fleeting moment before his gaze dropped again. “Do you think it’s okay?”
Tom Smith leaned in closer, studying the sketch with a thoughtful expression. “That’s really good.”
A small, hesitant smile flickered across Jay's face at the praise, warmth blooming in his chest. He instinctively pulled the sketchbook against his chest, fingers tracing the edges of the pages as if seeking comfort. “Th-thank you,” he stammered, fidgeting with his pencil. His eyes darted toward the exit, then back to Tom. “I’ve been trying to get the light right all week.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, laden with frustration. “It’s harder than it looks.”
Tom’s gaze remained fixed on Jay’s face, an intensity in his eyes. “It always is. Nothing worthwhile is really easy, you know?.”
Jay felt his breath hitch under that scrutiny, a wave of vulnerability washing over him. He instinctively tugged at the collar of his oversized hoodie, shrinking back slightly against the wall. His blue eyes widened, flitting everywhere except Tom’s face. “I... I guess so.” He swallowed hard, fingers trembling as they gripped the sketchbook tighter. “It’s just... frustrating sometimes. When it doesn’t come out right.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly lowered his gaze to his worn sneakers.
“Can I ask you something?” Tom said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “And you can tell me to fuck off if you want. But how’d you get those bruises on your neck?”
Jay’s breath catches in his throat at the unexpected question, his hand flying up to cover the faint bruises marring his skin. Shock widens his eyes, and he glances around the library nervously before returning to Tom, his expression wide and fearful. “I... I...” He trailed off, shaking his head violently, his voice barely a whisper. “N-no, it’s... it’s nothing.” His fingers curled tighter around the sketchbook, knuckles turning white. “Please... please don’t...” He swallowed again, looking down, his cheeks flushing darkly.
Tom shifts closer, his voice low and steady. “I only ask because they look a lot like hand prints.”
Jay flinches when Tom moves closer, pressing himself harder against the wall. His breathing quickens, eyes darting to the exit again. He pulls his hood up with trembling hands, trying to hide his face.
“I... I fell.” His voice cracks, unconvincing even to himself. “Down the... the stairs.” He bites his lip hard enough to turn it white, fingers nervously picking at the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve. “Please... please don't tell anyone.”
Tom studies Jay intently, his expression a blend of concern and disbelief. “That isn’t true, is it? It would be very hard to get bruises like that from falling,” he says, “but pretty easy to get them from being…” making a gesture with his hands to mimic choking.
Jay whimpers softly at the motion, tears pooling in his wide blue eyes. He curls inward, clutching his sketchbook tightly against his chest as if it could shield him from the accusation. His voice emerges as a trembling whisper. “P-please...” He shakes his head, a single tear escaping down his cheek. “I... I can't...” He swallowed hard, fingers digging into his own arms, as if trying to anchor himself. “He... he didn't mean it. It was... it was my fault. I... I messed up.”
“Jay,” Tom says, his tone softening, “I’m not sure there is anything in the world you could have done to deserve being choked like that.”
Jay sniffles quietly, wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor, shoulders quaking slightly with suppressed emotion. His voice is small and broken as he speaks again. “I... I forgot to... to clean the kitchen.” Another tear falls, as he nervously picks at a loose thread on his jeans. “And... and I talked back.” He lowers his voice to a near whisper, fear threading through his words. “Daddy gets... gets angry sometimes. But... but he's usually really nice.” His grip on the sketchbook tightened, knuckles turning white. “He... he buys me art supplies.”
“When you say ‘daddy,’ you aren’t talking about your actual father, are you?” Tom asks, his brow furrowing.
Jay’s cheeks flush a deep red at the question, his breath hitching in his throat. He shook his head quickly, his eyes darting up to meet Tom’s for just a fleeting moment before looking away again. “N-no... he's...” His voice drops to a barely audible whisper, fingers twisting nervously at the hem of his hoodie. “My... my boyfriend.” Another tear traced down his cheek as he continued, “He... he likes when I call him that.”
“Is he much older than you?” Tom pressed gently, concern etched across his features.
Jay nodded hesitantly, biting his lower lip until it turned white from the pressure. His fingers trembled as they traced the edge of his sketchbook, his voice barely above a whisper. “H-he's... thirty-two.” He swallows hard, cheeks flushing darker. “I... I met him at the coffee shop where I work.” His breath hitched slightly, eyes flickering nervously around the empty library. “He... he said I was... was special.”
“Does he hurt you in other ways too?” Tom asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
Jay's breath catches in his throat, his face flushing crimson as he nervously twisted the strings of his hoodie. He stares at the floor, shoulders hunched protectively around himself. “I... I...” He swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “Sometimes... when I'm... bad.” His fingers brushed over the bruises on his neck again, a subconscious gesture. “But... but he always says sorry afterwards.” The words fall from his lips in a whisper, heavy with conflict. “And... and he takes care of me.” A small, conflicted smile flickers across his lips, warmth battling against the shame. “He... he buys me nice things.” His voice trailed off, cheeks burning.
“What else does he do to you?” Tom asked, his tone gentle yet probing.
Jay squirms uncomfortably, his cheeks brightening further. He pulls his knees up to his chest, pressing the sketchbook tightly between them. “H-he...” His voice was barely audible, trembling as he spoke. “When... when I'm good... he... he touches me.” His breath hitches, eyes darting up briefly before falling back down. “In... in special ways.” He bit his lip, shifting slightly in his seat. “And... and sometimes his friends...” He shook his head violently, panic rising within him. “N-no, I shouldn't...” A tear escapes, tracing a path down his cheek.
Tom studied him intently. “Let me see if I can fill in the rest. You were always a quiet and shy kid in school. Never really fit in anywhere. A little too feminine for the boys, not feminine enough for the girls.If you had any friends it couldn’t have been more than one or two people. Maybe you’re closeted at home, or when you came out to your parents, it didn’t go well. Coming to school here is your first time being on your own.”
Jay's eyes widen in shock, his face flushing a deep crimson as Tom speaks.
“When you met him, he said you were special. He probably called you cute or maybe pretty. He bought you art supplies, clothes, stuff like that. Told you something like, you should be free to express yourself? The sexual things came later, starting off tender, but he gradually introduced you to more kinks. Maybe even made you think it was your idea. Now he shares you with his friends, and if you try to refuse, he probably says something like ‘if you love me, you’ll do it’.
Pausing briefly, Tom continues “Tell me, has he taken you to work a gloryhole yet?”
Jay trembles violently, tears streaming down his cheeks, breath coming in shallow gasps. “H-how... how do you...” He shook his head, voice breaking into a sob. “Please... please don't tell anyone.” Curling into himself, shoulders shaking, he whispered, “Daddy... daddy says it's our secret. That... that I'm special because I can take it.” His voice dropped to a terrified whisper. “And... and yes, the... the gloryhole… last week...” He covered his face with trembling hands. “I didn't... didn't want to, but... but he said I'd make him so proud...”
“And when he fucks you, it’s from behind and rough isn’t it? If you cry or beg him to stop, he just gets rougher. And when he finishes inside of you, he makes you clean him off with your mouth. Probably ending with a rough throat fuck. But he always apologizes and buys you something nice afterwards?”
Jay nodded Tomkily, tears dripping onto his sketchbook. His entire body trembled as he whispered through choked sobs. “Y-yes...” He wiped his face with a shaky hand, voice barely audible. “He... he says it's how he shows his love. That... that real love hurts sometimes. And he says using my mouth after, feels so good for him.” His breath hitched, fingers nervously twisting the strings of his hoodie. “And... and the gifts after... they make it better.” He sniffled, looking down at his worn sneakers. “He bought me... new pencils last time. Really nice ones.”
Tom looks him straight in the eyes, “Jay, this is the MO of a sexual predator.”
Jay flinches at the words, shaking his head violently. “N-no... No... he loves me... He says he loves me.” He wiped his tears with a shaky hand, fingers nervously picking at his jeans. “He... he takes care of me.” His breath hitches, voice cracking. “Nobody else... nobody else ever wanted me before.” He looked up with pleading blue eyes, tears still streaming. “Please... please don't make me lose him too.”
“Has he used you with other men yet? He would have called them his friends. And I bet they recorded the session. Just for themselves?”
Jay's breath hitches, his face flushing crimson as he nervously twists the strings of his hoodie. He nods slowly, eyes darting around the empty library before whispering.
“Y-yes... three times now.” His voice trembles, fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “They... they said it was just between us.” He swallows hard, cheeks burning. “But... but I saw phones...” His voice drops to a barely audible whisper. “Daddy said... said it's normal. That... that everyone does it.” He sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I... I didn't like it... but he said I looked pretty.”
Jay's cheeks flame a deep crimson at the words, his breath catching in his throat. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fingers twisting anxiously around the strings of his hoodie. “I... I just...” he stammered, swallowing hard as his gaze fell to his lap. “I want to make people happy.” His fingers brushed over the bruises on his neck, a subconscious gesture. “And... and Daddy says I'm good at it.” A small, conflicted smile flickered across his lips, only to fade almost immediately. “Even... even when it hurts.”
Tom’s gaze sharpened, noting the way Jay keeps stealing glances at him. “I notice you keep looking at me,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Do you like what you see?”
Jay's face burns hotter, as he quickly turns his eyes away, biting his lip until he feels a sting. His fingers trembled against the sketchbook, breath quickening as he squirmed in his seat. “I... I'm sorry...” he murmured, swallowing again, his gaze darting back to Tom’s lap before snapping back down to the floor. “I didn't... didn’t mean to...” The heat in his cheeks deepened, a small whimper escaping his lips.
“You didn’t answer my question, little girl,” Tom prodded, his tone playful yet commanding.
At the sound of "little girl," Jay let out a soft whimper, breath hitching in his throat. His cheeks flared a deeper shade of red as he nervously bit his lower lip, fingers twisting the hem of his hoodie tighter. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, voice trembling and barely audible. “Y-yes...” He swallowed hard, shifting slightly in his seat. “S-sir...” The word slipped out instinctively, making him flush even darker. His legs pressed together tightly, the sketchbook quaking in his lap.
“Spread your legs for me, and pull your skirt up” Tom instructs, his voice smooth and low. “Let Daddy see what you’re wearing underneath.”
Jay's breath hitches audibly, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. He scans the half-empty library, wide, anxious eyes darting before returning to Tom. Trembling fingers creep toward the hem of his skirt, hesitating just shy of lifting it. A shaky whisper escaped his lips, laced with uncertainty. “B-but... what if someone sees?” He bites down hard on his lip, legs quaking as he begins to part them slowly, revealing pale thighs marked with faint bruises. His breath comes in shallow gasps now, fingers clutching the fabric of his skirt like a lifeline.
“There’s a bathroom downstairs in the basement,” Tom says smoothly. “It’s nice and deserted. You’ll get on your knees and give me a nice sloppy blowjob. Then you’re gong to beg daddy to fuck your boy pussy.”
Jay's throat tightens, heat flooding his face as he glances nervously around the empty library once more. His fingers tremble where they grip his skirt. “I... I shouldn't...” The words tumble out, shaky and fraught with both fear and reluctant arousal. He looks up at Tom, blue eyes wide and conflicted. “Daddy... daddy wouldn’t like it...” The protest feels weak even as it leaves his mouth, his body already trembling with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He bites his lower lip, a soft whimper escaping him as he unconsciously shifts in his seat.
“Did you think you had a choice, little girl?” Tom prods, his voice smooth yet commanding.
A soft whimper escapes Jay at those words, his entire body quaking. His cheeks burn brighter, and he nervously glances around the deserted library, fingers twisting in the hem of his skirt. “N-no, sir...” he stammered, breath hitching as he slowly rises to his feet on unsteady legs. Pressing his sketchbook tightly against his chest like a shield, his eyes flickered toward the basement stairs. “I... I’ll be good for you... I promise” he whispers, biting his lip hard enough to turn it white. A tear slips down his cheek as he takes a hesitant step forward though if from fear or arousal he couldn’t tell you. The worn soles of his sneakers squeak softly against the library floor as he makes his way down the stairs.
In the dim basement bathroom Tom asks, “What are you going to do now little girl?”
Jay stands trembling under the flickering fluorescent lights. His breath comes in shallow gasps, clutching the sketchbook to his chest as if it could protect him. Cheeks still flushed, he nervously shifts his gaze between Tom and the grimy tile beneath his feet.
“I... I’m s-supposed to...” he murmured, voice trembling. Fingers twisted the hem of his skirt, knees visibly shaking. A small whimper escapes as he sinks slowly to his knees on the cold floor, the sketchbook forgotten beside him. Looking up with wide, fearful blue eyes, he whispered, “P-please...” Uncertain whether he is begging for this to stop or continue, his hands tremble, hovering near Tom’s belt, breath hitching with each shaky exhale.
“You know what you need to do, princess?” Tom asks, his tone teasing yet firm.
Jay's breath catches at the word "princess," heat flooding his cheeks. He lowers his gaze, fingers trembling as they fumbled with the belt buckle, the metallic clank echoing in the stillness of the bathroom. His voice emerges as a shaky whisper, barely cutting through the sound of dripping water. “I’ll... I’ll be good, sir... so good for you” he stammers, swallowing hard as he finally manages to undo the belt, hands shaking with anticipation and lust.
As he pulls down the zipper, revealing the large bulge beneath, a soft whimper escaped his lips. Leaning forward, he lets his warm breath ghost over the fabric, uncertainty gnawing at him. “J-just... just like Daddy taught me...” he murmurs, his tongue darting out to nervously wet his lips. With a tentative kiss pressed against the material, his entire body quivers, a mix of fear and anxious arousal coursing through him.
Suddenly, a firm hand on his hair halts him, freezing him in place. From above him he hears, “What do you want to do princess?”
Jay’s cheeks burn a deeper red, his breath quickens into shallow gasps. He keeps his eyes cast downward, lashes fluttering as he whispers, trembling. “I... I want to... to make you feel good, sir...” His voice cracks with lust, fingers trembling against Tom’s thighs. “With... with my mouth...” A small tear slipped down his flushed cheek, and he licked his lips again, body quaking with fear and reluctant desire. “P-please... let me... let me taste you...” The words are barely audible, lost amidst the buzzing fluorescent lights, his breath warm against Tom’s pants.
“Put your hands behind your back, princess,” Tom commands.
Jay whining softly at the order, his breath hitching as he obeys. With trembling hands, he moves them behind his back, fingers intertwining nervously. The motion made his slender shoulders tense beneath his thin hoodie. His cheeks flared crimson, eyes still lowered, lashes flickering with apprehension. As he breathed, the collar of his hoodie slipped, revealing bruises on his neck that told silent stories. A shiver raced through him, completely exposed and vulnerable on his knees, his skirt riding up slightly to expose pale thighs marked with faint bruises.
His lips parted, warm breath brushing against Tom’s crotch as he whispers in a quivering voice, “L-like this, sir...?” The words tremble with both fear and an unmistakable arousal, his entire body vibrating with anticipation, waiting for what comes next.
“Yes. Good girl,” Tom replies. He reaches down to find Jay’s nipples through the fabric of the hoodie. He begins teasing and massaging them, taking one then the other between his fingers and squeezing gently.
Jay gasps sharply as Tom squeezes his nipples, instinctively arching his back into the touch despite himself. A high-pitched whimper escapes his lips, cheeks flushing. He squirms slightly on his knees, fingers twisting nervously behind his back as unexpected sparks coursed through him. Quick, shallow breaths escape him, the thin fabric of his hoodie doing little to dull the overwhelming sensations. His blue eyes darted up nervously, meeting Tom's gaze for a fleeting moment before quickly looking away, lashes fluttering in uncertainty.
"S-sir..." he whined softly, his voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure. His chest heaves as Tom continues to tease his nipples, the sensitive nubs hardening visibly beneath the fabric. A small moan slips from him before he can stop it, his hips giving an involuntary little jerk forward. He bites down hard on his lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to spill out, tears of confused arousal gathering in the corners of his eyes.
"Good girl. You’re so responsive to me.” Tom intones as he releases the nipples of his young plaything. “Now, undress for me slowly, down to just your underwear," Tom instructs, his voice smooth and commanding.
Jay's breath hitches at the praise, his cheeks flushing even darker. With trembling hands, he slowly and nervously fingers the hem of his hoodie. His eyes flitted around the dingy bathroom, anxiety tightening his chest before settling his gaze back on Tom. He bites his lip hard, then hesitantly pulls the hoodie over his head, revealing a slender frame clad in a thin white t-shirt that clung to his slight chest. Each movement is tentative, fingers shaking as he folded the hoodie neatly beside him—a small act of control amid the chaos.
Next, his trembling fingers moved to the buttons of his skirt, fumbling clumsily as he undoes them. The fabric pools around his knees, revealing plain white cotton panties that starkly contrasted with the faint bruises dotting his pale thighs. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the grimy tile floor, shoulders hunched in embarrassment as he completely sheds the garment. A small whimper escapes his lips as he sits back on his heels, clad only in his t-shirt and panties, arms wrapping protectively around his slender frame. His nipples visibly hard through the thin fabric of the shirt. He shivers slightly whether from the cool basement air or his own arousal he couldn’t tell you.
"P-please..." he whispered uncertainly, unsure of what he was asking for anymore. His legs pressed tightly together, but the movement only draws attention to the erection tenting in his panties. He squeezes his eyes shut, another tear escaping down his flushed cheek as he awaits further instructions, completely exposed and trembling with a confusing mix of fear and arousal.
"Please what? What does my sweet little girl want?" Tom prompts, his tone teasing yet firm.
Jay whimpered softly, his entire body trembling as he kneels on the cold bathroom tiles. His fingers nervously plucking at the hem of his thin t-shirt, eyes darting up briefly before dropping back to the floor. A fresh wave of arousal floods his cheeks as he stammers in a voice barely above a whisper, "I... I want..." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. The thin cotton panties offering little concealment for his growing arousal. "T-to be good... f-for you, sir..." His breath hitches as he finally forced the words out, another tear tracking down his flushed cheek. He unconsciously leans forward, parted lips just inches from Tom's crotch, warm breath ghosting over the fabric. His slender frame shivered with anticipation and fear, waiting to see if his hesitant answer would be accepted.
Tom’s voice cuts through the tension. "How are you going to be good for me, bitch?"
Jay flinched slightly at the harsh term, breath catching in his throat. His cheeks burned crimson as he kept his eyes lowered, fingers nervously twisting the fabric of his t-shirt. He swallows hard, voice trembling and barely audible. "I'll... I'll use my mouth, sir..." he whispered, his tongue darting out to nervously wet his lips. Hands shaking, he reached up with trembling fingers, hesitantly pulling down Tom's waistband. A sharp hitch of breath escaped him at the sight revealed, a small whimper slipping past his lips. With hesitant movements, he leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip, his lips soft and trembling. His blue eyes darted up nervously, seeking approval even as tears gathered in their corners. His entire body trembling with a mix of fear, shame, and overwhelming arousal, the cool basement air raising goosebumps on his exposed skin.
Tom's hand tangles in the younger man’s hair, guiding him gently onto the cock. "Suck me, princess, and if you do well, you’ll get a treat."
Jay whimpered softly as Tom's fingers tangle in his hair, the firm grip sending a shiver down his spine. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, eyes fluttering shut as he parted his lips in obedient submission. With trembling hands pressed against Tom's thighs for balance, he tentatively takes the tip into his mouth, his warm tongue swirling hesitantly around the sensitive flesh. A small moan resonated in his throat as the musky taste enveloped him, lashes brushing against his flushed cheeks.
Slowly he sinks deeper, his jaw stretching uncomfortably as tears pooled in the corners of his closed eyes. The warmth of Tom’s skin pressed against his nose, and he breathed in shaky bursts through his nostrils. His free hand drifted unconsciously toward the damp fabric of his own panties, fingers trembling against the material before he catches himself and quickly moves it back to grip Tom's thigh. He bobbed his head cautiously, each movement tentative and unsure, yet gradually growing more confident as he sought that promised "treat." Small whimpers escaped around the intrusion with every thrust, his slender throat working hard to accommodate more, tears now streaming steadily down his flushed face.
“Good girl,” Tom praised, his voice low and encouraging. “Your mouth is so hot. Make the blowjob sloppy, that's how daddy likes it.”
Jay whimpers around the intrusion, cheeks hollowing as he tries to comply. Saliva pools in his mouth, dripping down his chin and onto Tom's shoes. The overwhelming musk makes his nose wrinkle slightly, and tears stream freely as he forces himself to take more, gagging slightly with each deeper thrust. His trembling hands clutch Tom's thighs for balance, knuckles white with tension.
Pulling back with a wet pop, he gasps for air, strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to the glistening shaft. His blue eyes, glassy with unshed tears, look up pleadingly, chest heaving. Without waiting for further instruction, he dives back in with renewed desperation, making loud, obscene slurping sounds as he bobs his head messily. Drool dripped down his chin, soaking his white t-shirt and creating dark patches on the thin fabric. His free hand returned to his own arousal, rubbing frantically through his panties as he services Tom, small choked moans vibrating against the flesh in his mouth. The basement echoed with the wet sounds of his sloppy efforts, his entire body trembling with the effort to please.
“Good girl. Such a good girl. Tell daddy what you need,” Tom urged, his tone both commanding and understanding at the same time.
Jay pulls off with a wet gasp, strings of saliva still connecting his swollen lips to Tom's glistening shaft. His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath, tears and drool mingling on his flushed cheeks. His trembling hand stilled on his own arousal, fingers twitching nervously against the damp cotton. Keeping his gaze lowered, he stammers in a broken whisper, “I... I need...” His voice cracked, a fresh wave of crimson flooding his face. Shifting uncomfortably on his knees, the cool basement air making his damp t-shirt cling to his slight frame. “P-please... let me... let me cum, daddy...” The last word slipped out as a desperate whine, his hips jerking forward involuntarily against his restraining hand. His blue eyes dart up pleadingly for just a moment before dropping back to the floor, his entire body trembling with a mix of desperate need and shame. Nervously, his free hand toys with the hem of his soaked panties, silently begging for permission to touch himself properly.
“Look at me, princess. Into my eyes. Play with your girlcock. I want to see you cum for me,” Tom commands.
Jay's breath hitches sharply at the command, wide blue eyes lifting to meet Tom's gaze. A fresh wave of crimson floods his cheeks as he hesitantly hooks trembling fingers into the waistband of his cotton panties. Biting down hard on his swollen lower lip, he pulls the damp fabric down just enough to free his small, flushed erection. His slender fingers wrap around his small cock with a shaky gasp, thumb brushing over the slick tip.
His hips jerk involuntarily into his own touch, maintaining eye contact through tear-clumped lashes. Soft whimpers escape his parted lips with each tentative stroke, breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The cool basement air feels harsh against his exposed skin, making him shiver even as heat floods his body. Movements grow more urgent, wrist twisting in the way that always works best, tears still streaming down his face from the overwhelming mix of humiliation and arousal. A high-pitched moan escapes him as his back arches slightly, his free hand braced against the dirty tile floor for support. His gaze remaining locked with Tom's, pupils blown wide with desperate need, silently pleading for approval as he teetered on the edge.
“Cum, princess. Cum for your new daddy,” Tom urges, his voice thick with anticipation.
Jay's breath catches in a choked sob as Tom's words wash over him, his hips stuttering forward uncontrollably. Slender fingers work frantically over his flushed length, thumb smearing precum as he whimpers brokenly. With a sharp cry that echoes off the bathroom tiles, his back arches violently, and his entire body tenses. Thick streaks of white paint his trembling stomach and the dirty floor beneath him, legs shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him.
He collapses forward onto his hands, gasping for air as aftershocks ripple through his slight frame. Tears stream freely down his flushed cheeks, mingling with the sweat and drool on his chin. His spent cock twitches pathetically in his still-moving hand, oversensitive but unable to stop until every last drop is milked from him. Through heavy-lidded, tear-filled eyes, he looks up at Tom with a mixture of awe and shame, his chest heaving as he whispers hoarsely, "Th-thank you... daddy..." His voice is wrecked, raw from crying and exertion. He remains kneeling in the mess he's made, trembling and exposed, waiting for further instructions or the promised "treat," a confusing mix of dread and desperate hope shining in his watery blue eyes.
From above him Tom asks, “Now what do you think you can do to really thank me princess?”
Jay whimpers softly, still trembling from his orgasm as he gazes up through tear-clumped lashes. His cheeks flush an even deeper crimson as he glances down at the mess on his stomach, then back up at Tom with a mix of fear and eager anticipation. He licks his swollen lips nervously, voice trembling and barely audible. "I... I could..." His breath hitches as he shuffles forward on his knees, the cold tiles biting into his skin. With trembling hands, he reaches for Tom's waistband again, his touch hesitant but determined. "L-let you... use my... my other hole, daddy..." he whispers, the words sending a fresh wave of shame through his slight frame. His fingers pause just before making contact, waiting for permission, his entire body thrumming with nervous anticipation. A small, involuntary shiver runs through him as he imagines what's to come, his spent cock giving a weak twitch against his sticky thigh.
“Let me?”
Jay flinches at Tom's correction, panic widening his eyes. He quickly lowers his gaze to the floor, hands trembling where they hover near Tom's waist. His breath comes in shallow, shaky bursts as he scrambles to correct himself, voice trembling with fear. "N-no! I-I mean... please... please use my other hole, daddy..." he whimpers, cheeks burning with humiliation. Slender fingers nervously twist together in his lap, knuckles white with tension. A fresh tear tracks down his flushed cheek as he adds in a broken whisper, "I... I need it... please..." His hips shift unconsciously, pressing his sore backside upward in offering, the damp fabric of his panties still bunched around his thighs. Every muscle in his slight frame trembles with a confusing mix of terror and desperate arousal, his mind screaming at him to run even as his body begs to submit.
“Good girl. Get in position princess, doggy style. Give me your boy-pussy”, the commanding tone is unmistakable.
Jay whimpers softly at Tom's words, his entire body trembling as he slowly turns around on shaky limbs. He lowers his upper body until his forehead presses against the cool tile floor, his slender back arched to present his rounded backside. With trembling fingers, he reaches back to pull aside the damp fabric of his panties, exposing his small, pink hole already glistening with arousal. A fresh wave of crimson floods his cheeks as he feels the cool basement air against his most intimate place. "P-please be gentle, daddy..." he whispers brokenly into the tiles, his voice muffled by shame. His fingers dig into the grout lines as he braces himself, every muscle tensed in fearful anticipation. Tears drip steadily onto the floor beneath his face, his slight frame shaking uncontrollably. Despite his fear, his hole clenches and flutters involuntarily, betraying his body's desperate need. He presses his face harder against the dirty floor, trying to hide his expression as he waits, completely vulnerable and exposed.
“Gentle?”
Jay flinches violently at Tom's sharp tone, pressing his forehead harder against the cold tiles as fresh tears well in his eyes. His breath hitches in panicked gasps, fingers scrambling against the grimy floor for purchase. "N-no! I-I mean... however d-daddy wants me!" he stammers desperately, his voice cracking with fear. His back arches deeper in submission, presenting himself more fully despite the tremors wracking his slight frame. "Use me rough, daddy! Break me… P-please!" he whimpers, the words tumbling out in a rush of terrified obedience. His hole clenches involuntarily at the thought, a traitorous spark of arousal cutting through his panic. He bites his swollen lip hard enough to draw blood, bracing his entire body for the inevitable pain-pleasure. Drool drips from his parted lips onto the floor beneath him, mixing with his tears in a small puddle. Every muscle tenses as he waits, torn between praying for mercy and craving the brutal validation of being used.
"Beg daddy to take your boy-pussy," Tom commands.
Jay's breath catches in a choked sob, his trembling fingers curling into fists against the dirty tiles. He presses his flushed cheek against the cold floor, tears streaming freely as he forces the words past his swollen lips:"P-please daddy..." His voice cracks, high and desperate. "Please take my... my boy-pussy..." He shudders violently at the crude word, humiliation burning through him even as his hole clenches needily. "I need it... need you to fuck me rough... make me your good girl..." His back arches deeper, presenting himself shamelessly now, panties still tangled around his thighs. A broken whine escapes him as he adds: "Wanna feel you stretch me open... ruin me, daddy... please!"
His entire body trembles with the confession, torn between shame and desperate arousal. Precum drips from his half-hard cock onto the floor beneath him, betraying his body's traitorous excitement. He presses his face harder against the tiles, trying to hide his burning cheeks as he waits, completely exposed and vulnerable to whatever Tom decides to do next.
Tom enters Jay, filling him up slowly and tenderly, the way a man would take his virginal bride. "Good girl. Give that pussy to daddy. Do you like that, princess? How does it feel?"
Jay gasps sharply as he is penetrated, his slender body instinctively arching at the unexpected gentleness. A confused whimper escapes his swollen lips, tears continuing to stream down his flushed cheeks. His fingers scramble against the cool tiles, caught between bracing for the sensation or surrendering to the gentle thrusts.
"Y-yes, daddy..." he breathes shakily, his voice quivering with a mix of relief and confusion. His tight hole flutters around the big cock, unaccustomed to such careful treatment. "Feels... feels so good..." he admits in a broken whisper, his slight frame trembling not from fear, but from an overwhelming tide of emotion. He bites his lower lip hard, trying to stifle the soft, needy sounds that escape him with each slow stroke.
His spent cock twitches back to life against his thigh, dripping precum onto the dirty floor. The unfamiliar tenderness makes his chest ache strangely, tears flowing freely as he tentatively pushes back against my hips. "Th-thank you for... for being gentle..." he murmurs hoarsely, the words laced with both gratitude and shame, as if he knows he doesn’t deserve this kindness. His breath hitches with suppressed sobs, overwhelmed by the confusing mix of physical pleasure and emotional vulnerability.
"Fuck back onto me, princess. Show daddy you want this cock."
Jay whimpers softly at the command, his tear-streaked face still pressed against the cold tiles. With trembling effort, he pushes his hips back cautiously, meeting each thrust with small, hesitant movements of his own. His slender back arches deeper, presenting himself more fully as a fresh blush spreads across his neck and shoulders.
"Y-yes, daddy..." he breathes shakily, his voice thick with tears and arousal. His movements grow slightly more confident, rocking back in time with the gentle thrusts. A soft, involuntary moan escapes his swollen lips as he feels himself stretching around the big cock, his tight hole fluttering with each withdrawal.
"I... I want it..." he confesses in a broken whisper, fingers scrambling against the grimy floor for purchase. "Want your cock so bad, daddy..." His slight body trembles not from fear now, but from overwhelming sensation, his neglected erection leaking steadily onto the tiles beneath him. He turns his face to the side, panting heavily as tears continue to track through the dirt on his cheeks, lost in the confusing mix of tenderness and submission.
Tom grips his shoulders and pulls him upright, his slender back pressing flush against Tom’s chest. Kissing the side of his face and neck, The older man reach around to stroke his cock while continuing to fuck into him. Jay gasps sharply at the sudden intimacy, trembling violently as the lips brush against his neck. A broken sob escapes him when Tom’s hand wraps around his leaking cock, his hips jerking instinctively into the touch. "Give me your pussy, you sweet little girl. Give me everything. Be as loud as you want, touch yourself, just cum on my cock."
"O-oh god..." he whimpers, his head lolling back against the older man’s shoulder. Tears stream freely down his flushed cheeks as he’s fucked and stroked simultaneously, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. His small hands clutch desperately at the arm wrapped around his waist, nails digging into fabric as pleasure builds despite his shame.
"D-daddy... I'm... I'm gonna..." His warning comes in a high, trembling whine, his entire body tensing like a bowstring. With a sharp cry that echoes off the bathroom tiles, he spills over Tom’s fist, his tight hole clenching rhythmically around the bigger man as the cock continues to move inside him. His slight frame convulses with the force of his orgasm, tears mingling with drool as he babbles incoherent pleas and thanks between gasping breaths.
Even as he trembles through the aftershocks, he keeps rocking his hips weakly, desperate to please despite his oversensitivity. "Y-yours... all yours..." he slurs through swollen lips, completely pliant in the embrace, his tear-filled eyes glazed with overwhelmed submission.
"I can’t hold back. You’re making me cum in your pussy. Take it, princess."
Jay's eyes fly wide as he feels the hot rush filling him, a choked gasp tearing from his throat. His slender body arches violently in his lover’s arms, his oversensitive hole clenching rhythmically around the pulsing cock. Fresh tears spill down his flushed cheeks as he trembles through the overwhelming sensation, his spent cock giving a weak twitch against the still-stroking hand.
"O-oh god... daddy..." he whimpers brokenly, his voice raw and trembling. His fingers scramble to clutch at the forearm around his waist, nails digging in as he takes every last drop. A shudder runs through his slight frame as he feels the warmth spreading inside him, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps.
"S-so full..." he slurs, his head lolling back weakly. His thighs tremble violently where they’re spread wide, the sticky mess of his own release cooling on his stomach. Despite the oversensitivity, he grinds back weakly, milking every last throb with his fluttering hole. "Th-thank you... thank you for using me..." he whispers hoarsely, tears still streaming as he goes completely limp in, utterly spent and filled.
"Good girl. Good girl.That was amazing."
Jay shivers violently at the praise, fresh tears cascading down his swollen cheeks. A quiet sob catches in his throat as he nuzzles weakly against Tom Smith's shoulder, his slender frame still trembling with aftershocks. The warmth pooling within him sends fluttering sensations through his stomach, a confusing blend of shame and contentment intertwining. “Th-thank you, daddy…” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely rising above a murmur.
His fingers release their tight grip on Tom's arm, falling limply to his sides. He makes no attempt to pull away, remaining pliant and boneless in the embrace, even as the uncomfortable stickiness begins to cool on his skin. His body instinctively clenched around the softening cock still nestled inside him, as if desperately trying to maintain their connection. A soft, broken whimper escapes his lips when he feels the first trickle of cum sliding down his inner thigh. His cheeks burn, yet he lacks the strength to cover himself, feeling completely spent and exposed.
After a long moment of shaky breaths, he murmurs against Tom’s shoulder, “D-did I… did I please you… Daddy?” The question emerges small and fragile, steeped in a desperate need for validation. His tear-damp lashes flutter as he awaits an answer, his bruised thighs quivering where they remained spread wide, the older man still buried to the hilt inside of him.
Tom holds him tightly, kissing his neck and face, running his hands over Jay's body to maintain their connection. “Yes, princess. What a silly question to ask. Don’t you feel my cum deep inside your pussy? You were better than any other girl ever. You are so perfect.”
Jay trembles at the kisses and praise, fresh tears welling in his eyes. He presses his face into Tom’s neck with a choked sob, his slender fingers tentatively gripping the fabric of the older man’s shirt. The memory of past encounters makes him whimper softly, his body tensing as memories flood his brain. “N-no one… no one ever held me after…” he admits in a broken whisper, his voice cracking. His body clenched feebly around the softening cock still inside him, as if trying to keep the connection alive. “They… they just pushed me away or… or made me lick… clean them up with my mouth” A full-body shudder coursed through him at the recollection, his breath hitching.
He nuzzles closer, desperate for the unfamiliar comfort. “You’re… you’re different,” he murmured against Tom’s skin, his words slurred with exhaustion and emotion. “S-so warm… so kind” Gradually, his slight frame relaxes, though tears continue to track through the drying mess on his cheeks. One hand drifted down to tentatively touch his swollen lower belly, feeling the fullness inside.
After a moment, he whispered hesitantly, “D-does… does this mean I’m your good girl now…?” The question was barely audible, tinged with fearful hope. His bruised thighs pressed together slightly, trapping the trickle of cum between them as he anxiously awaited the answer.
“If you want to be, yes. But…”
Jay’s breath caught audibly at the conditional response, his body tensing in Tom’s arms. He pulled back just enough to look up with wide, anxious eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. His lower lip trembled as he processed the “but,” his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “B-but…?” he echoed in a small, fearful voice, fingers tightening on the bigger man’s shirt, knuckles whitening. The movement causes another trickle of cum to escape his used hole, making him blush crimson. He instinctively tried to press his thighs together, but stopped himself, keeping them obediently spread.
His mind raced with possibilities—maybe his new daddy would share him too, or record him, or decide he wasn’t good enough after all. A soft whimper escaped him as he searched Tom’s face, his expression a mixture of desperate hope and fearful anticipation. His neglected cock gave a weak twitch against his sticky stomach, still oversensitive from his earlier release. “I… I’ll do anything,” he blurted out suddenly, his voice cracking. “Please don’t… don’t make me go back to…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought about his previous “daddy.” Fresh tears spilled over as he pressed his face against Tom Smith’s chest, trembling violently. “Wanna be yours… only yours…” he mumbled into the fabric, the admission coming out muffled and broken.
“That’s what the ‘but’ was about, princess. I won’t share you with another daddy. If you want to be mine, you have to really be mine.”
Jay's breath hitches sharply, his tear-filled eyes widening with a mix of hope and disbelief. He pulls back slightly to search the man's face, trembling fingers still clutching the damp fabric of his shirt. A fresh wave of tears spills down his flushed cheeks as the words sink in - the promise of belonging to someone without being shared.
"R-really...?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice trembling with emotion. His slight frame shudders as he processes the offer, his abused hole giving an involuntary clench around nothing. The sensation makes him whimper softly, his thighs pressing together instinctively before forcing them apart again in submission.
He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing visibly in his slender neck. "I... I want that," he admits in a small, broken voice. "Want to be yours... only yours..." His gaze drops to his lap where cum is slowly leaking down his inner thighs, his cheeks flushing darker. "But... but what if... if I'm not good enough?" The question comes out barely audible, laced with deep-seated insecurity.
His hands drift nervously to cover his small, soft cock and the mess between his legs, though he stops himself halfway, leaving himself exposed. "I... I'll try harder," he adds quickly, voice trembling. "Promise I'll be better... learn what you like..." He looks up through wet lashes, biting his swollen lower lip anxiously as he awaits judgment.
I like this for one. It’s called aftercare. It’s very important for bottoms like you. It’s how a real daddy shows you that you aren’t just a couple of holes to be used and abused.
Jay's breath catches at the unfamiliar term, his tear-swollen eyes widening slightly. He listens intently, a flicker of something like wonder breaking through his usual anxiety. His fingers tentatively reach up to touch Tom's chest, then withdraw as if burned, unsure if he's allowed. "A-aftercare...?" he repeats softly, testing the word on his tongue. His gaze drops to where their bodies are still pressed together, noticing for the first time how Tom's hands haven't stopped gently stroking his back. A small, involuntary sob escapes him as he realizes the significance.
"N-no one ever..." His voice cracks, fresh tears spilling over. He presses his face against Tom's shoulder, trembling violently. "They... they just pushed me away or... or made me clean them up...
" His slender fingers curl into loose fists against Tom's shirt, not daring to hold on too tight.
After a moment, urgency floods through him, and he lifts his head. "I... I want to learn," he whispers earnestly, his wide blue eyes pleading. "How to be... to be good for you. Properly." His cheeks flush as he adds shyly, "And... and this aftercare... it feels... nice." The admission slips from his lips, barely audible, as if confessing something forbidden.
He shifts slightly, wincing as more cum leaks from his used hole. His neglected cock gives a weak twitch, still oversensitive. "D-does... does this mean you'll keep me?" he asks hesitantly, his voice small and fragile. "Even when I'm... messy like this?" He gestures vaguely at the sticky mess between his thighs, looking up with fearful hope.
Tom holds him tighter, turning him around to kiss his lips like a lover.
Jay gasps softly at the sudden kiss, his entire body freezing for a moment before melting into the unexpected tenderness. His lips tremble against Tom's, inexperienced but eager. When they part, he's left breathless and blushing furiously, his fingers instinctively rising to touch his own lips in wonder.
Tom questions, “Princess you started to touch my chest then stopped suddenly. Why?”
At the question, he immediately looks down, shoulders hunching defensively. "I-I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Didn't... didn't know if I was allowed to..." His hands flutter nervously in his lap, unsure where to put them. "My... my other daddy... he said... said my hands were only for..." He trails off, cheeks burning crimson as he glances meaningfully at Tom's crotch.
He swallows hard, tears welling up again. "I... I want to touch," he admits in a small, vulnerable voice. "But I don't... don't know how to... to do it right." His slender fingers twitch with restrained longing, hovering inches from Tom's chest. "Can... can you show me?" he asks hesitantly, looking up through wet lashes, a mixture of hope and fear swirling in his gaze.
His body trembles slightly as he waits, the drying cum on his thighs making him feel exposed and messy. Yet there's a new spark of curiosity in his eyes, a tentative desire to understand this unfamiliar intimacy beyond just being used.
"You’re always free to touch your lover. Both during and after. Just do what feels natural, princess," Tom reassures him.
Jay's breath hitches at the word "lover," his blue eyes widening with a mixture of awe and disbelief. A soft whimper escapes his throat as he processes the permission, his trembling hands hovering uncertainly over Tom's chest. His cheeks flush a deep pink, the color spreading down his slender neck.
Slowly, tentatively, he places his palm flat against Tom's chest, feeling the warmth and steady heartbeat beneath. His touch is feather-light at first, as if afraid he might break something. When no reprimand comes, he grows bolder, fingers splaying to feel more of the firm muscle beneath the fabric. "S-so warm..." he murmurs, almost to himself. His other hand joins the first, exploring shyly. His movements are clumsy but earnest, fingertips tracing the contours of Tom's shoulders before sliding down to tentatively grip the sides of his waist. A small, involuntary sigh escapes him as he leans closer, pressing his cheek against Tom's chest.
His slight frame relaxes incrementally, though he still trembles with residual nerves. "Is... is this okay?" he whispers, tilting his head up to search Tom's face. The motion causes his messy bangs to fall into his eyes, and he makes no move to brush them away, too focused on seeking approval.
Beneath the tentative exploration, his neglected cock gives another weak twitch against his stomach, still glistening with his earlier release. He seems momentarily unaware of his own arousal now, completely absorbed in this new experience of permitted touch.
"It's wonderful baby, You’re wonderful" Tom says softly.
Jay starts to feel a sense of dread as Tom begins to stand, fearing he’s about to discard him like the others did. But instead, Tom lifts him to his feet and walks him to the sink. Jay flinched violently when Tom first stood, a panicked gasp escaping his lips. His hands shot up instinctively, eyes wide with terror as he braced for the sting of abandonment. Yet, instead of being cast aside, he felt himself lifted gently, relief flooding through him as he leaned heavily against Tom's warm body, finding solace in the solid support. He turns on the warm water and gently washes him down with paper towels, removing the dried cum and evidence of their love-making. He cleans the ruined makeup from Jay's face tenderly.
"I'm sorry this will have to do for now. We’ll get you a proper shower later," Tom promises, his voice soothing as he continues to care for Jay.
As the warm water cascaded over his skin, a soft, shuddering sigh slipped from him. His eyes fluttered closed, tears still clinging to his lashes, while Tom cleaned him with unexpected tenderness. Each gentle swipe of the paper towel sent tremors through him—not from fear, but from the overwhelming novelty of being cared for in such an intimate way.
"Th-thank you," he whispers hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion when Tom apologizes for the makeshift cleaning. He curled his fingers hesitantly into Tom's sleeves, holding on as if they were a lifeline. "N-no one's ever... ever cleaned me after..." His words trailed off, fresh tears mingling with the water on his cheeks, revealing the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show.
When Tom wipes away the remnants of his ruined makeup, Jay instinctively tilts his face upward, like a flower reaching for sunlight. His breath catches as the towel brushes over his swollen lips, still sensitive from their earlier kiss. The care lavished on his face—typically just a canvas for others' pleasure—touches him deeply, igniting something fragile within.
His small cock twitches weakly as Tom continues to clean between his thighs, yet he makes no attempt to cover himself, trusting Tom completely. "A proper shower... with you?" he asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper, searching Tom's face for any sign that this request might be too much. His hands remained lightly gripping Tom's arms, as if afraid that letting go would cause this moment of tenderness to slip away.
Tom's voice breaks through his self-doubts, reassuring and calm. "That should do for now. We should get dressed before someone walks in on us. My car is parked out back. I mean that’s assuming you still want to go home with me?"