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From: Marty Markum <itsmarty2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: ST "Derrick Gets A Father" CH 1 (M/m, bdsm, nc, mast)
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Derrick Gets A Father

 Chapter 1

By Marty

After a year of construction, my custom built home was complete. Just shy of my fortieth 
birthday, I was hit by a drunk driver while on my motorcycle. Unfortunately I would 
walk with a slight limp the rest of my life. Fortunately, the drunk who hit me was driving 
a company truck for a large national delivery firm, and the out of court settlement was 
enough for me to retire early and pursue my real interests without worry of income for 
the rest of my life. 

My new house was in western Montana. I was lucky enough to find a piece of land close 
by to other like minded friends of mine, close enough to Missoula,  but still nicely out in 
the country. My friends helped me with the design,  one of whom was a professional 
architect, the others pointing out what they would have done differently on their own 
homes when they built them.  

To the casual visitor, this the basement would appear normal, if not very well thought 
out. . When you entered the basement, it appeared to be just a cozy game room, with a 
big screen, pool table and nice comfy couches, with a wet bar in the corner.  Right out of 
the movies, though,  I had a secret door hidden in a book shelve. Instead of pulling the 
right book or whatever, mine is controlled by punching in the correct PIN code on the TV 
remote. 

Once the bookshelf rotated, you could enter the real reason I had built the house. The 
finishing touches on this part of the  basement were completed by my friends, as I didn't 
want the workers to be going home and talking about what they saw. The custom 
furnishings were completed on site, and at the housewarming, I was able to test some of 
the more "custom" bits of furniture on my friend's boys. 

You see the basement, normal from first glance, contained a very well equipped dungeon. 
It had computer controlled lighting throughout so I could create any mood I chose, as 
well as being photographer friendly. It was complete with everything one would expect. 
In the center of the main room, was a large low wooden table, equipped with a motorized 
winch to pull the restraint chains to the desired length. Several trapeze were suspended 
my motorized cables over drains installed in the concrete floor. There was a pillory, made 
from sturdy oak bolted to the floor, as well as several sets of different stocks that could be 
hung from chains, or just placed over the boys' bodies as the master would have. There 
was a shower in the corner, equipped with  eyebolts to restrain, if required. There were 
also three cells, equipped with sturdy iron bars, small cots and a "bomb site" toilets that 
would require squatting over. Along the far wall was storage for every imaginable bit of 
fetish gear a perv like me could dream of.

Off the main dungeon room, another part of the basement contained a fully equipped 
photography studio.  I planned to supplement my income with photography that would 
sell well to those who had a taste for a different type of porn that what was so readily 
available, so I made it state of the art. In the photo studio was a large walk in closet to 
contain the wardrobe for my subjects, once I could get their measurements. I had a tailor 
friend in New York who specialized in what I had in mind.  

Because while it is obvious I am into bondage,  I also have many other fetishes. Besides 
restraining boys in leather and chains, I like boys in uniforms, I liked forcing boys to 
wear girls clothes, I liked to age regress boys, I liked doggie train boys; in fact, as long as 
it both mortified the boy and turned me on, I was into it!  I was sure I would find other 
things I liked to do with my boys as well. With the contacts I had, I was planning to sell 
plenty of pictures and movies of my boys in every imaginable painful, embarrassing, 
humiliating, erotic situation I could think of, as I knew there were others just like me out 
there. I just needed to get one! For years I could only act out my fantasies through the 
internet or a few very expensive nights with rent boys willing to submit to my whims for 
huge amounts of cash. It was time for me to train a boy of my own.

Now when I say boy, I should explain. I am not into little boys, but rather barely legal 
young men in their late teens. I wanted my boy to be a raging pile of hormones. What I 
wanted was virginal  insecure eighteen or nineteen year old gay boy, who I could turn 
into my submissive surrogate son. If they were willing, fine, if not, well so much the 
better. 

So now that I  had the home of my perverted dreams, It was time to go on the hunt. Now 
before you think I am a totally horrible person, I had no intention of keeping anyone long 
term against there will. Oh sure, I might have to convince them that they wanted to stay, 
but it would definitely be in their best interest. I wanted a street kid, who had no prospect 
of a better life. That way at least, I wouldn't feel so bad about what I was about to do. So 
I got in my van and headed west.

It is roughly a seven hour drive from my house to Seattle. I wanted to cast my net a good 
distance from where I lived, and lets be honest, Montana is not a hot bead of homeless or 
street boys. Yes Seattle would fit the bill perfectly. 

I booked a cheap motel and paid with cash. I planned on scouting for a couple of days 
and then making the drive back home non stop. It was actually a nice little vacation, 
wandering the streets of neighborhoods I knew would attract what I was looking for. The 
second morning there I settled into a chair in a coffee shop across from a bookstore. 
While it wasn't a "gay" bookstore, they knew who they catered too, that's for sure.  I 
noticed a kid leaning against the wall next to the door of the bookstore. He was glancing 
all around him, like he didn't want someone to see him there. He looked like he might be 
too young, but he definitely had my interest. He had dark blond curls showing out the 
front of the gray hoodie he had pulled over his head. He was also wearing  ragged cargo 
pants and well worn Van's slip on skater shoes. I couldn't tell much more from the 
distance I was at, so when he went into the bookstore, I picked up my coffee and headed 
across the street. 

I walked into the cozy bookshop, said hello to the guy at the register and walked over to 
near where my kid was browsing the aisles. I didn't want to get too close to him a spook 
him. He looked incredibly nervous just being in the store.  I did get a closer look at him 
though. He had very blue eyes and a slight case of acne. Nothing too bad, just normal 
teenage boy acne. I noticed his nails were dirty and his clothes obviously hadn't been 
washed in a while. He looked unwashed and underweight. Obviously a street kid or at the 
very least his home life was a shambles. 

I had to hide a chuckle as he pretended not to look at the straight porn but kept eyeing the 
much larger gay section of skin mags along the wall. Not for long though as the clerk 
walk up to him and preened, "Honey, you cant hang out around the adult section. Sorry 
sweetie." 

Ugh, I thought to myself. Did everyone who worked in this neighborhood  have to pass a 
queen test before getting hired?

The boy looked mortified he had been busted, but he squeaked out that he was in fact 
eighteen. When the clerk asked for his ID, he pulled out what looked like his social 
security card and showed it to him. The clerk told him that wasn't good enough, he 
needed a drivers license or state ID card.

 "Never mind then," the kid sighed, and with shoulders slumped, looking down at his 
dirty sneakers started heading for the door. Perfect I thought. He didn't try to stick up for 
himself or fight back in anyway, he just gave up and left. Nice and submissive. I bet we 
was hungry too. I waited just long enough not be obvious I was following the kid and 
walked out of the shop after him hoping he hadn't gone far. He hadn't.

He was sitting around the corner against the wall looking very depressed. I walked up to 
him, and stood over him, until he noticed me, looking up at me startled.

"Hey kid," I said. "You look like you could use a meal. Can I buy you lunch?"

He continued staring at me, obviously hungry but wary at what my motive was. If he only 
knew. "What do I have to do for it?" he asked. His voice was kind of high and soft. 

"For lunch? Nothing. I saw you in the bookstore, and felt bad for you. It sucks to look 
younger than you are sometimes", I chuckled. 

His face flushed a deep red. Even better I thought, he blushes! Perfect! "Come on kid, 
you should eat. It's cold out here anyways." I put out my hand, he hesitated slightly 
before grabbing it and pulling himself to his feet. He was about 5'6" and maybe 120 
pounds. "I'm Martin," I said introducing myself.

"Oh, uh, I'm Derrick" he said as he started walking with me. 

"Nice to meet you Derrick", I said. "So you live around here?" 

"Uh, well sort of," , he started. "I guess I do now." 

"Fair enough, none of my business," I said, trying to put him at ease.

There was a Burger King up the street. Not my normal taste, but I couldn't really take 
him anywhere else, looking the way he was. After I bought us a couple of value meals 
and sat down inside with him, I noticed he didn't smell so good either.

I let him eat in silence, actually enjoying the show as he laid waste to a double whopper 
in record time. Not until he was on this third coke did I ask him, "So how long you been 
out on the streets Derrick?" 

His eyes started to water. "When I turned eighteen and the checks stopped coming, the 
ass hole foster parent's I lived with kicked me out of the home I was living at in Portland 
a week ago. They were drunks anyway. The social services lady said she wanted to help, 
but fuck all of them, no one cares anyway. No one has ever cared about me. So I got on 
the train up here thinking I could get a new life. So far, it sucks. No one wants to hire me. 
I've had a couple of dudes proposition me, but I aint into that. So thanks for the meal, but 
I aint into old guys."

I smiled to myself at the "old guys" comment. Still, this kid seemed to be  perfect!  Sassy, 
but still unsure of himself, with little or no self esteem. He was of legal age, but had no 
family, no hope, and most importantly, no one would miss him. 

"I have a proposition for you Derrick." 

"Sorry Martin, I already told you I don't do that kind of thing."

"You don't even know what I am going to propose."

"I may have only been on the street for a couple of weeks, but I know what old guys like 
you want from guys like me."

Again, if he only knew. "Nothing like that I assure you Derrick. I was just going to let 
you come back to my place and take a shower, then let you wash your clothes. No funny 
business, and if you want to earn some money, I have some painting that needs to be 
done." Which was only partly a lie, I had plenty of funny business in mind, but I also did 
have some painting that needed doing. 

"Well," I could tell he was thinking. He had to be broke, and if he didn't want to be 
sucking cock in dark alleys for his next meal, he needed to do something quick. 

"I guess I could use some money. How much are you talking about?" 

"We can discuss that when you see the job. What do you say. I have a nice place out in 
the country. You will love it. No strings attached. Make up your mind though, I have to 
get home now, and I am not coming back here to look for you."

I could almost see the little devil on one side and the little angel on the other arguing in 
his head. Every bit of common sense told him not to trust me. But he was hungry and 
cold, and it was starting to rain again in Seattle. The devil won. "Okay Martin," he said. 
"You got a deal."

"Great!" I said, and to put him at ease I pulled five twenties out of my wallet. "Here's an 
advance, just so you know I'm serious." 

His eyes grew wide and he gently took the money and stuff it in his front pocket. "Follow 
me, my van is right around the corner." He followed me out into the rain, and I he was 
relived to see I drove a rather ordinary looking Honda minivan. Well ordinary to the 
casual observer. I had made some modifications that would be apparent to Derrick at the 
appropriate time.
I made a casual glance around to see the alley was deserted where my van was parked. 
Good, no witnesses. I hit the button and unlocked the doors. I got in at the same time as 
Derrick. "Fasten your seatbelt. I don't want to get a ticket" 

Little did he know that once he locked his seatbelt, only I could unlock it. I fired up the 
van, put some classic rock on the stereo and headed out into traffic. Derrick was quiet, 
looking out the window and not at me as I headed toward I-90. Once I got on the freeway 
and settled down for the long drive I looked over and noticed the boy's knees were 
knocking. He was very nervous. 

"Uh, how far away do you live anyways?" He asked.

"Montana,"  I answered casually.

"Montana! I can't go there! I don't want to go there. Pull over and let me out Martin, 
right now." he said.

"I'm afraid I can't Derrick. You gave me your word and took my money. Your days of 
running from your problems are over. I'm going to teach you how to be a man Derrick, 
but before that, you need to learn to be a proper boy first."

I was going 70 on the freeway, and I could tell he was trying to figure out his options. He 
couldn't bail out of the van, and as he soon found out, he couldn't event get his seat belt 
off or open his door. I had control of all that. He started fighting furiously with the 
seatbelt.


"Let me the fuck out Martin! This isn't funny. You can't do this to me!"

"Let's get a few things straight. From now on you will address me as father. I'm your 
new father Derrick, and I am going to raise you right. You've obviously been missing a 
strong male influence in your life. Second watch your mouth. You're too young to use 
that kind of language and if you curse again, I will punish you severely. Do we 
understand each other?"

He tried to use his left hand to grab at the wheel, but I was ready for just such an attack 
and grabbed his wrist. I may have a bum leg, but I upper arm strength is excellent, and it 
was no problem holding back a malnourished teenaged boy. My hand encircled his wrist 
entirely and I was able to bring it down to the waiting handcuff. With one end already 
attached to the ring in the vans floor, I steered with my knees as I snapped the cuff onto 
his wrist effectively pinning his hand down by his side. 

"I was hoping we could do this the easy way Derrick, but like all little boys you don't 
want to listen to your elders." I could tell this kind of talk was pissing him off, but he 
couldn't figure out what to do next. This was all happening too fast for him. I reached 
into my door pocket and pulled out a syringe. "Time for you to take a nap Derrick."

I jammed the hypo through his pants into his thigh.

"OWWW! Fuck! What the hell did you do?" He screeched in his cute little voice. "That 
fucking hurt!"

"That my friend, was a sedative. Since you are moving around so much I had to put it in 
you intramuscularly, so it will take a bit to take effect, but a your weight, you should be 
out in about 10 minutes."

He was crying now. "You bastard! You said no funny business. You lied to me!"

"Yes, afraid so champ, but I didn't have time to explain the niceties to you. Now you are 
going to start getting sleepy soon, so listen up. I am not going to kill you, or permanently 
harm you in any way. I meant what I said. You need some male guidance in your life, 
and me, with the help of some of my friends, are going to give you the attention you have 
never had in your life. You're gay obviously, or you wouldn't be hanging out in the gay 
part of town and scamming gay porn in the bookstore. I will teach you how to be the 
submissive little slut that your were born to be!"

"I'm…not … gay. I was just…"

"Whatever Derrick. Now you are lying to me. You will be punished for that once we get 
settled in. For now son, just go to sleep. I remotely reclined his seat a bit as the sedative 
took effect and soft snores started to come out of him. 

Phew, he stank. Also as the sedative took effect I noticed a wet spot in front of his cargos. 
He had pissed himself while he struggled. Ah well, I had to put up stench, as well as 
painfully hard dick, as I sped through the afternoon and into the evening on the way back 
to Montana. 

At a rest area, I pulled into a very secluded spot and pulled out my laptop. Once I got my 
wireless connection going, I started up PGP and sent an encrypted email to one of my 
friends. I had rifled through Derricks pockets, retrieved my hundred bucks,  and found his 
wallet. It had the mangled social security card, plus an old student ID from an Oregon 
high school in it. He had in fact just turned eighteen last month.  I sent his stats to my 
buddy to do a search to see if anyone was really looking for him. After that I made sure 
he was still out, unhooked the cuff from his hand, released the seatbelt and pulled him 
into the cargo area of the van (I had all the seats removed behind the fronts) and laid him 
out on his back with a pillow under his head. I cuffed ankles together and then to ring in 
the floor and was about to throw the blanket over him and get started again, but I couldn't 
help myself.

I started rubbing my cock as I looked down at my new boy. It only took a second. Before 
I even touched him I knew I couldn't last, so I yanked my fly open, gave three quick jerks 
and the cum started flying out of my cock all over the sleeping kid's face. I leaned down, 
wiped my cock on his hoodie and licked a bit of cum off of him, before putting my cock 
away and throwing the blanket over him. 

The fun was just starting, and Derrick's new life was about to begin. I headed back onto 
the interstate toward my new house.


Authors note: This is the first story I have written in over 6 years. I myself was almost 
killed in an accident involving a drunk driver and after a long rehab while enjoying 
other's work, I thought I would try to contribute again. 

Comments are always welcome as long as they are not nasty.

Itsmarty2000@yahoo.com


      

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