Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Mwriter65
Title: Derrick Gets a Father
Part: 2
Summary: Derrick, an orphan who is struggling with his sexuality, runs

   away from his foster home looking for a new life.  Unfortunately he runs
into the wrong man.
Keywords: Mm BDSM NC



   Thank you for all who took the time to write and offer encouragement and
ideas.  I try to respond to all the emails, but if I missed anyone, I
apologize and will try to get back to you soon.

   The following story is fiction.  It is totally a product of imagination.
It involves sexually explicit erotic events between adolescents and men. 
It involves bondage, and non consensual sex, as well as sexual
humiliations. I will also contain anything else I can think of as the story
goes on.  It is definitely authoritarian in nature so if that's not your
bag move on.  If you are offended by such material or are too young, live
where it is not allowed to read the story, don't read on.  No one was
harmed in the writing of this story.

   Derrick Gets a Father Ch2

   It's about a seven hour drive from Seattle to my house.  Derrick had
been in his chemical induced slumber for about five hours when I heard him
begin to stir in the back of the van.  My van has a "kid mirror" in it so
you can see what is going on behind the driver.  It gave me a perfect view
of my poor boy starting to wake up and figure out what was going on.  He
groaned, rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but was still too weak.

   I smiled when he rubbed his face and felt my dried cum on it.  He was
clearly puzzled and couldn't figure out what it was.  "Sorry champ," I told
him, "You looked so cute while you were sleeping I had to blow a nut on
you."

   "Gross!" he shouted and then did manage to sit up.  That's when he tried
to move his feet.  He threw the blanket to the side and discovered the leg
irons fasted securely around his bony ankles and anchored securely to the
floor.  That didn't stop him from futilely trying to break free.  It was
fun to watch.  I had him positioned in the back so that he couldn't reach
anything, although I realized one mistake that could have been disastrous
when he threw the blanket at me.  Luckily he was a pretty weak kid with bad
coordination and it landed harmlessly between the front seats.  I put the
blanket safely out of reach, and watched him struggle a bit more, until he
gave up, dejected and laid back down, starting to cry.

   "Derrick, it will go better from you from here on out if you just do
what your told.  You are going to do what I want anyway, but if you
cooperate, you will be much better off.  We have about an hour and a half
to go, so just lay back and enjoy the ride."

   "Martin, please stop and let me go.  I won't say anything to anyone,
just let me go," he was sniffling and fighting the tears that were flowing
as he pleaded with me.

   "Derrick, remember what I told you.  You are to address me as father. 
You are my boy now Derrick, and boys to not address their fathers by their
first name.  I told you I would punish you for disobeying my Derrick, and I
meant it.  It's obvious to me you have led a life with no discipline and
you need to learn your place.  Now be quiet, and lay back down unless you
want me to pull over and show you what punishment can mean!" I started out
talking calmly to him, but by the time my little speech was over I was
shouting at him.

   It had the desired effect as I saw what little fight Derrick had in him
putter out.

   "I have to pee", he protested quietly.

   "You have to pee what?" I said to him sternly.

   He puzzled over this for a second and then replied meekly.  "I have to
pee father."

   "So what!" I laughed.  "You already peed yourself, so do it again." I
was glad I had removed the carpet from the back and he was lying on a
rubber cargo mat.  What was even more priceless is when I saw him feel
himself and realized that he had indeed pissed himself.  I couldn't see his
face, but I guessed he was blushing with shame at the realization.

   He didn't say anything, but laid back on the pillow while the pressure
in his bladder built.  Bouncing around on the floor of the van probably
didn't help either.  I had to give the boy credit though, he made it to
within twenty minutes to the house before I heard him start crying again as
he lost the battle.  I could watch the wet stain growing in my mirror as he
continued to cry as he thoroughly wet himself.

   "That will teach you to drink three large cokes before getting into a
van with a stranger" I scolded him.  "Derrick, you're pissing yourself like
a child, which is exactly what you are.  You may be sixteen years old
physically, but mentally you're still a little boy.  A little boy who wets
his pants.  You're very lucky you found me.  I am going to help you learn
your place in life Derrick.  Do you understand me boy?"

   "Fuck you!  I hate you!" he screeched through tears of humiliation.

   "Ah, Derrick, I warned you what would happen if you used language like
that," I said, "and bad timing on your part, because we are home!"

   I pulled the van off the highway and onto my quarter mile dirt driveway.
I had a special remote to open the electric gate and continued to the four
car garage.  Once inside the garage I closed the door behind the van, shut
off the motor then opened the side door of the van.

   Derrick was looking at me like the scared puppy that he in fact was. 
Before I went any further, I wanted to start documenting his training.  I
retrieved my trusty Nikon SLR digital camera and snapped a few photos. 
There is nothing quite like a scared boy with a tear and cum stained face
staring back at you to make your dick hard.  I think the camera just adds
to intimidation.  Derrick new that image was being captured forever.  I
made a point to focus on the wet spot around his crotch, which he tried in
vain to cover up.

   "All right boy, time to get to work." I put the camera down and grabbed
a hood and handcuffs from a sports bag I had left in the garage.  I got in
the van through the side door and pushed Derrick up so I was sitting behind
him facing the rear of the van.  He tried to struggle, but to no avail.  I
easily grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms behind him.  Once I snapped
the cuffs on him, he quickly gave up struggling.  He didn't put up a fight
when I pulled the black spandex hood over his head; he seemed resigned to
his fate for the moment.  I didn't really have to put the hood on for a
specific reason; I just wanted to keep him disoriented as I led him through
the house to the basement, which is just what I started to do.  Once I got
him out of the van though I placed him up against the plain white wall to
take a few more photos.

   There he was, five foot six, one hundred twenty pounds( 168 cm, 54.4
kg), leg irons, clasped around his dirty white socks, standing unsteadily,
listening to the camera do it's thing.  His khaki cargo pants had a huge
wet stain, which I am sure he could feel, and he was breathing heavily.  I
could see his hands opening and closing nervously as he uselessly tested
the carbon steel cuff's strength.  I had pulled his hoodie back over his
head, so his face was just a mask of black spandex.

   "OK champ, let's go" I said, putting the camera down and grabbing his
arm.  He jerked back at my touch but I firmly held him and led him into the
house.  He had a hard time walking in the leg irons, and stumbled a few
times, but I easily help him steady until we reached the stairs.

   Not wanting him to fall down the stairs, I picked him up and carried him
down.  This really hurt my bum leg, and I almost fell once, but I got him
and me down in one piece.  Not wanting to stain my leather furniture, I
dumped him on the floor, while I retrieved the remote and opened secret
entrance to the play room.

   My dick was straining my pants when I picked Derrick up off the floor
and marched him into his new home.  Even though he was filthy and stank, he
was my boy, my new son, and I was excited.  I took him over to the corner
where the shower was, but before I did anything else, I hugged him from
behind making sure he could feel my hard cock pressed up against him.  I
could hear him whimper under the hood, and his whole body started shaking.
He felt so small in my arms!

   "Shhh, there there my boy," I whispered into his ear.  "Your safe now,
you have a home and a father who loves you."

   "Please, I don't wan't..."

   "Derrick don't say anything that will make me punish you more than you
already have coming." I kept grinding my cock against the small of his
back, being careful not to blow my nut right then and there.  "What you
want is no longer important.  It's what I want that matters.  You are my
boy and you will obey me.  You should be grateful.  If it wasn't for me,
you'd be sucking some fat guys diseased cock in a back alley right now to
pay for you next meal.  I'm going to dress you nicely, feed you, educate
you and prepare you for your proper place in life.  So go ahead and thank
me now Derrick.  I think I deserve that much from you." I was playing with
his mind now.  I wanted to get his submissive nature to take him over.  My
mouth was right next to his ear, my lips almost touching the hood of his
sweatshirt.  "Come on Derrick, say thank you for saving me father."

   His body was really shaking now.  I reached around and grabbed his
package through his piss soaked pants.  He yelped loudly.  I doubt anyone
had ever touched his privates before.

   "Come on boy!  SAY IT!" I squeezed harder.

   "Th, th, thank you father.  Thank you for saving me." He had the cutest
little boy voice for someone his age!  It was even more surreal as he was
talking through the spandex hood and couldn't see his surroundings.

   "That's much better Derrick.  Now I think it's about time we get you
cleaned up don't you?"

   I wasn't expecting an answer and didn't wait for one.  With his hood
still on, I bent down and undid one of his leg irons and hooked it to a
ring in the wall near the floor.  "Now I am going to undo your handcuffs
son, but your still chained by one leg so don't get any foolish ideas.  You
still have punishment coming, but if you behave, I might, and I repeat
might, take it easier on.  Do I make myself clear?"

   "Yes Father," he replied barely audible.

   "You are learning son.  Maybe you're not as dumb as I thought." I undid
the handcuffs, putting them into pocket just in case.  Next I pulled untied
the sweatshirt hood and pulled it back, then finally pulled off the spandex
hood.

   Derrick blinked and rubbed his eyes until he could adjust to the
lighting of the room.  His dirty blond curls were dripping with sweat and
when he could start to see his surroundings, I was ready again with my
camera.  The look on his face was so precious as he took in the sinister
appearance of the dungeon and all the equipment, devices and medieval
looking furniture in the room.

   One of the pieces of furniture I had built was kind of a rolling "throne
platform" it was a sturdy leather chair with wooden arms that looked like,
well, a throne.  It was on a raised wooden platform about 4 feet by 8 feet
(1.2 X 2.4 meters) that I could roll around the dungeon than lock the
wheels in place.  It also had a small table next to the throne on it, which
held my remote control for almost every function in the room.  I figured it
would be convenient, and it was at that moment.  I had moved it in front of
the shower so I had a nice view point and could rest my aching leg.  Once
settled I also started the video camera that was aimed at this corner of
the room.

   "Don't look so scared son.  If you follow my instructions and do what
you're told, you won't even find out what some of these things do." Of
course I knew damn well that he would find out, I just didn't want outright
panic to set in at the moment.  "Now since there is not a nice way to put
this, you stink and need a shower.  I am a stickler for personal hygiene."
That and I wanted to see what my boy's body looked like!  "So take your
sweatshirt off and toss it to me."

   By this point I sitting on my throne and holding a stun baton in my
hand. "Derrick this little device is called a stub baton.  It may not look
like much but it will hit you with 800,000 volts.  I don't think you would
like it.  TAKE OFF your sweatshirt.  NOW!"

   Chained to the wall by his ankle, and facing me with a weapon, he had no
choice.  He unzipped his dingy gray hoodie pulled it off his arms and
tossed it to me.  He was wearing a very worn and tattered black t shirt
with some the logo of some stupid band I had never heard of on it.

   "The shirt next boy, toss it over." I could see him shaking now, and
even better I could see the goose bumps forming on his naked torso as he
tossed the rag to me.  This was the first good look I had at his body.  He
was quite pale, as most people that live in that part of the country are,
and very skinny.  Almost too skinny, but I would take care of that.  He was
pretty hairless, with only small wispy patches visible under his arms.  As
I said earlier he had dirty blond hair, but how much was actual dirt was
yet to be seen.  He had small pink nipples that were protruding nicely at
that moment.  Once he had tossed the shirt my way, he crossed his small
arms in front of his body, almost trying to hug himself.

   I picked up my still camera again and stood up, "Put your hands behind
your head boy, interlock your fingers and kept them there." I instructed.
He complied without complaint.  By this point I think Derrick was resigned
to the idea that what was going to happen was going to happen.  After all,
nothing in his life had gone his way, so why should this new episode be any
different?

   I walked around him and got pictures from all different angles.  I put
the camera down, picked up the baton and walked up to him.  He was biting
his lower lip as I poked his ribs with the baton.  I didn't press the
trigger of course; I would only do that if he got any stupid ideas about
putting up a fight.  His breathing was getting more ragged as I walked
around him, touching him here, and squeezing him there.  I pinched his left
nipple and he squealed like a little girl, momentarily taking his hands
from behind his head, but one gaze from me was enough for him to regain
what composure he could.

   I guess I should take a moment to describe myself.  At the time I
"adopted" Derrick, I was forty four years old.  With the exception of my
bad left leg, I was in excellent condition (still am actually).  I'm five
foot ten and weigh one hundred seventy pounds.  I work out regularly and my
upper body strength is quite good.  I have brown hair cut in a military
style high and tight.  My eyes are green and can be very intense.  I will
get to the other good bits later in the story.

   I grabbed a few strands of his underarm hair between my fingers and
started pulling.  "Now Derrick, I am going to unchain your ankle in a
second here, and you are going to be a good boy and do what I say right?" I
pulled harder.

   "Yes sir," he said through clenched teeth.

   I gave him a fairly hard slap across the face.  "Sir is what you call
other adults.  How have I told you to address me boy?"

   Holding back tears, he said, "Father.  I'm sorry father!  I won't do
anything father.  Please don't hit me father..."

   "Stop your blubbering I will hit you if you deserve it.  Attention to
detail is important for a man Derrick, please try to remember that." I bent
down and released the shackle from his ankle, then stood back and retrieved
my camera.  "Details boy, now listen carefully.  I want you to unbuckle
your belt, and then undo your fly.  Without taking your shoes or socks off,
I want you to take your pants off and toss them over with the rest of the
rags you call clothes.  Then you are to immediately put your hands back
behind your head.  Is that clear enough for you boy?"

   "Yes father,"

   I continued to snap away with my camera as the poor boy struggled first
with his fly, then to pull his pants off over his shoes without falling
over, but he managed.

   Derrick was now standing in front of me in just dirty gray piss soaked
Hanes boxer briefs, which just kind of hung on his lanky frame, dirty white
socks (almost gray by then actually) and black and white checkerboard vans,
which were also well past the point of useful service.  The best thing
though, was that his piss soaked undies were sporting a huge tent.  Yes,
much to his shame, Derrick had a huge hard on.  This is why I loved boys of
his age.  With all that testosterone pumping through him, he couldn't help
himself, but it plaid right into my plan.

   "Nice one boy," I said, bringing the camera right up to his cotton
covered crotch.  "For a boy who doesn't like old men, you sure seem to be
excited.  You couldn't wait to get naked in front of me could you?  You've
been lying to me all along haven't you?"

   His cheeks flushed the most beautiful shade of red!  "No I haven't!" he
protested.  "I'm not like that, I , I..."

   "Shut up Derrick.  Your dick is telling the truth your lying little
mouth won't accept." I grabbed one of his arms, pulled the cuffs out of my
pocket and re attached them to his wrist, then did the same to the other so
his hands were now cuffed in front of him.  I quickly pulled his arms over
his and attached the cuffs to a snap wring, so he was now facing me, with
his back against the corner and his arms secured above him.

   "If your little boy panties weren't so soaked with piss I bet I could
see all the cum stains from were you jacked off thinking about giving to
guys like me eh Derrick?" I said.

   "NO!" he protested.  I didn't let him get any further, I walked up to
him and clamped my mouth over his, forcing my tongue inside his mouth.  He
struggled as best he could, but being much bigger than him and stronger it
was no problem for me to win.  I had one hand on the back of his head
holding him pressed against my mouth, while I started feeling him up
through his underwear.

   I could feel more than hear the whimpers of protest coming from deep in
his throat, but I could also feel his youthful cock respond to my hand.  He
was trying get away from me, but backed into the corner there was nothing
he could do.  I could feel him getting more and more frantic as I continued
my assault with tongue and hand.  Sure enough, I soon felt his cock start
to spasm in my hand and his whole body started shaking with orgasm.  I kept
my hand pressed against his cock as it pumped load after load into his
already funky underwear.  Only when he was done did I break the lip lock
and let go of his cock.

   Completely drained, he hung by his wrists, covered in sweat, and racked
with guilt.  He could feel his spunk in his underwear, and his mouth tasted
of mine.  "See Derrick, I knew you were hot for a real man.  A hard cock
doesn't lie.  Unfortunately though, you broke the rules.  I didn't give you
permission to cum.  That's going to add to your punishment I'm afraid."

   He had a totally confused look on his face.  It was too much for him to
process at once.  He started to sob loudly just as my cell rang.  I looked
at it and it was one of my good friends.  A physician friend of mine who
also happened to have a boy of his own.

   "Hi Don," I said, "Perfect timing actually.  It was a successful trip.
Can you give the other guys a call, I'm going to need a full physical
done..."

   Derrick barely heard the conversation.  He had stood back up to take the
pressure of his wrists, but just stood there, shifting weight from one
tired foot to the other, trying to stop crying as streams of his own cum
ran out of his underwear down his leg, dripping on his sneaker.

   End of Chapter 2 Next chapter , Derrick meats some of his fathers
friends.

   Comments, suggestions, ideas?  Mwriter65@live.com