*** Now talking in #gaysons&dads
*** Topic is ‘younger and older find each other on this channel’
[donnie] !son
*** FunTime has quit IRC (read error: 54 (Connection reset by peer))
*** furryone sets mode: +v donnie
[freewilly] any sons in the northern virginia area/dc area
*** tirsini has quit IRC (leaving)
*** Kid4U has joined #gaysons&dads
*** jay2 has joined #gaysons&dads
[^luis^] NOTE: If you are a son looking for a dad, type !son in the message window and get a +next to your nick
[useme] !son
^luis^ sets mode: +v useme
***NYdad has left #gaysons&dads

[TopDad] Hi son, how are you today?
[donnie] hi dad k thx :)
[TopDad] How old are you son
[donnie] 16
[TopDad] What are you looking for on this channel?
[donnie] a dad
[TopDad] Where are you from, Donnie?
[donnie] ma
[TopDad] Where?
[donnie] orleans mass
[TopDad] I’m in Tennessee. Too far away.
[donnie] i may split from here
[TopDad] How come?
[donnie] my mom is a pain
[TopDad] How so?
[donnie] she accused a guy of messing with me and made a big stink she watches me like a hawk i cant do anything
[TopDad] What about your real dad?
[donnie] hes in la
[TopDad] Where?
[donnie] los angeles
[TopDad] Oh. Well, can’t you go there?
[donnie] i was there last summer for a visit he has a new wife with kids of her own she didn’t like my being there
[TopDad] ic
[TopDad] Do you have a picture?
[donne] y
[TopDad] Can I see?
[donnie] y
[TopDad] Thanks
[donnie] np :)
[TopDad] I’m sending you some pics of me and my new house here in Knoxville. I’m a contractor.
DCC file transfer complete
[TopDad] Do you run track?
[donnie] cross country
[TopDad] In the picture it looks like you are at a stadium
[donnie] that was taken when i was in la i was just getting in a workout
[donnie] nice house , brick, you look nice too
[TopDad] Thanks. You look terrific. Do you have any more?
[donnie] n
[TopDad] Do you think you might want me to be your dad?
[donnie] maybe
[TopDad] Do you want to be owned?
[donnie] whats owned?
[TopDad] Belonging to only one person

Not for a minute, did Donnie think that “being owned” was a synonym for monogamy and meant belonging to only one person. He figured that the man would expect to have the use of his body, however and whenever he wanted. And if the man was giving him a place to live and paying for his food and clothing, this seemed reasonable to the youth.

But did he want that sort of arrangement? Donnie didn’t know. So he continued to chat with TopDad and with other men on IRC.

Two other guys offered Donnie a place to live. One was located in the Northwest, where he owned a large scale nursery business. The fellow had a lot of land, there was a house and some cabins for employees. Donnie could have a job with him, learn the nursery business, and they would have whatever sort of personal relationship that suited them once they got to know each other.

Clearly the man hoped that they would become lovers, but it was not a requirement. Would casual sex be required? The picture showed a young, nice looking guy. Having sex with him would hardly be an imposition, Donnie decided. Things would develop or not, but he would have a job and a place to live anyway. He wondered, though, if he would like the hard, hot work of planting and tending trees and shrubs.

The fellow from the Southwest seemed to expect nothing in return for supporting him. He sympathized with Donnie’s situation, having had similar experiences when he was the youngster’s age. He offered to send Donnie money for the trip, if he asked for it. He would expect the lad to help out around the house and to finish high school or get a job. Donnie wondered if all this would make him feel even more obligated. He knew that the man wanted a young lover.

Would any of these situations last? There could be a disagreement and a break up. Then Donnie would find himself far from home, probably without any funds. If he ran away from his mother’s house, he would rather die than go back, he told himself. He had some awareness of the problems of street kids. That sort of life did not appeal to him. His father would help him out, but would end up by sending him back to his mother.

If he could be sure that one of the three opportunities would be right for him he would go. So he continued to chat with these men and waited for a choice to become clear. At least he would finish the current school term, leaving only his senior year to complete. He did not want to have to repeat a grade.

At the start of the February vacation, things at home took a bad turn. Donnie had been looking forward to the freedom to see some of his older friends, to have a little fun and be able to relax. Instead, his mother insisted that he spend every minute with her. She also informed her son that he would not be getting a driver’s license until after he finished high school.

By way of ambition and hard work, Roberta had established her own real estate business. It was time for her son to get a taste of the sacrifices she had made to provide for him. Donnie was to accompany her each day to her office, to appointments at the homes of prospective sellers and on extended trips with buyers to look at listed houses. She also made it clear that there would be a lot more of this after school and on weekends from now on. He hated it.

The lad retaliated by getting himself a part-time job as a bag boy at one of the local supermarkets. He was right in thinking that his mother couldn’t object to his working. This plan had dual objectives. One was to save money in case he decided to take off or, if he stayed, to speed the day when he could afford a place of his own. The other involved lying about his hours in order to be with the men, whose company he enjoyed.

Near the end of March, Roberta got suspicious and called the manager of the supermarket. He was glad to help a good customer; single parent and fellow business person keep tabs on her difficult adolescent. She found out what his actual hours had been for the last couple of weeks.

Mother and son had a blowout of a fight. She hit him with all of it the minute he walked in the door for dinner. The job was finished; it was back to the real estate office. Expecting pleading, even tears, she got yelled at instead. This was how she had driven his father out, he hollered. Then he went to his room and barricaded the door.

Roberta decided to let him stay there and cool off. Donnie counted his money. He didn’t have enough to get to the west coast. Also, he appreciated that the deal in Tennessee was up front, fair and carried no hidden obligations. Whatever he received he would have earned. Not being in the man’s debt, he could leave without feeling that he was letting someone down who had done him a great favor. And it was possible that, in some ways, he did want to be owned.

He left the house at dawn with his tooth brush in his shirt pocket. His mother assumed that he had left early for school so he would not have to confront her. Instead he went to the drug store and waited for the early P&B bus to Hyannis that would pause just outside the door. From there, Bonanza would deliver him to New York City and, perhaps, beyond.

As the hours of travel slowly passed, thoughts flowed though his mind, competing with the buzz of the motor. One recurred in the form of a question; at what point did he become owned? Donnie considered the possibilities and decided that it was when he first accepted something of value.

The previous evening he had fired off an email to say he was coming. The answer, hours later, told him to call when he arrived at the bus station in Knoxville. TopDad, Bud, would come for him there. So when he entered the car, accepting a ride, he would become the man’s property, Donnie decided. The idea of it gave him a vague sort of thrill.

He was in New York at noon and in Kentucky some ten hours later. As soon as he got off the bus, Donnie went straight to a telephone and placed his call. Bud answered, said he was leaving right away and would be there in thirty minutes. It was a short conversation. The kid strode purposefully to a seat, picked up a discarded newspaper and began to read, as though he did this every day of the week. He had been warned about bus stations and he didn’t want anyone hitting on him. No one did.

From the newspaper he went to a magazine, and actually got interested in a story. He became so engrossed that he forgot the time and wasn’t looking when Bud entered the station. The man recognized Donnie immediately from the picture he had sent. The thick mop of soft blond hair, rather long for an athlete, was the giveaway.

But then, during their chats, the youth had indicated that he usually came in forth or fifth for his team, and that his interest in running was casual. Bud was surprised that the youngster was as beautiful as the photograph had indicated. He hadn’t been able to really believe that such a gorgeous creature could just drop into his life.

He went over and said the boy’s name. “Donnie?” The kid looked up and Bud held out his hand. They shook. “Hi,” the youngster said, smiling with what appeared to be relief. He was glad that the trip was over now.

“Where’s your stuff?” Bud asked.

Donnie moved aside the flap of his open windbreaker, lifted out the toothbrush from his shirt pocket and put it back in, brush end up. The man laughed. “Traveled light I see,” he commented, visions of the necessary clothes shopping popped into his mind. But that was all right, buying clothing would cement his hold.

Had Donnie been a different sort of kid, he might have been embarrassed by arriving with nothing and obligating the man to immediate trouble and expense. But such thoughts never occurred to him. He would be just as happy to wear and wash the same clothes for as long as necessary. It simply didn’t matter to him.

“Let’s go then,” Bud said. He made a motion with his arm in the general direction of the parking lot.

Together, they went out into the night. Given the darkness, the man’s Mercedes could have been black, but it was actually a deep blue. The lad waited for the man to unlock the doors, then opened the one on the passenger side. He hesitated as Bud got into position behind the steering wheel. The man wondered if the kid was having second thoughts, but Donnie’s pause was only to experience the moment more fully. He took his place and pulled the door toward him, the “thunk” marking the instant of his possession.

Sitting there in the closed car, he felt how his body now belonged to the man in the driver’s seat. It was almost like being naked, even though he was fully dressed. The feeling awed him, momentarily, but faded as the vehicle was expertly backed out of its parking space and began the trip though the city to the outskirts, where Bud had his big, luxurious house.

The conversation was spotty and mundane. “You must be tired.”

“Yes,”

“Hungry?”

“A bit.”

Near to home, Bud pulled into the car service lane of a Berger King. He ordered for both of them, paid and then handed the two bags of food over to Donnie to hold. Five minutes later, the youth followed the man into the large, ten room house. Bud led him to the kitchen where they proceeded to drink colas and eat their burgers and fries.

“When we’re done, I’ll show you around,” the man said.

Donnie had already seen the entrance hall, had a glance at the living room and could hardly avoid taking in the brightly lit kitchen. It, like the rest of what he had glimpsed, was large, grandly if sparsely furnished and had an antiseptic look about it. There was nothing homey about it, but then, his real home had looked but didn’t feel that way. Perhaps, in time, he would be at home here. He hoped so.

When they finished their meal, Bud showed him where to put the trash. The downstairs tour consisted of the kitchen, huge living room, dining room with chandelier, sun room, and home office. They went up the wide, imposing staircase to the second floor.

The man showed Donnie the master bedroom. It had a separate dressing room and an oversized bathroom featuring a hot tub. “A wonderful way to relax after a hard day’s work,” Bud commented. Another room was being used as an entertainment center with a large screen TV and a bank of audio equipment.

The youngster followed Bud into one of the guest bedrooms. “This one will be yours,” he was told. So they wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed, unless he was called for, Donnie realized with mixed feelings. It meant some time by himself, it meant that a certain distance was to be maintained between them.

“It has its own bathroom,” the man continued. Bud pointed to an open door. “Do you want to put your toothbrush in there?” he inquired.

The youth stepped in for a look. Like the bedroom, itself, it was small but brand new and adequate. He took the toothbrush out of his pocket and hung it inside the mirrored cabinet over the tan colored sink. He barely glanced at himself before returning to the bedroom, his bedroom now.

The man was sitting at the foot of the bed. “All moved in?” he asked with an ironic smile.

“Yeah.” The boy smiled more broadly at Bud’s little joke. “Thanks,” he said, gratefully.

“I’d like you to show me your body now,” the man declared.

“Oh, sure,” Donnie assented.

He was glad that Bud hadn’t done this the moment they got in the house, as he had half expected. The delay had given the youth the feeling that the man had some respect for him. He hadn’t been pounced on after all. So, now it was time. And the guy did own him.

The kid disrobed efficiently, laying his clothes neatly on and over the side chair that was placed next to the bureau. Bud watched, appraising but not leering. The youngster was everything that he had hoped, given the picture. His body was well developed, not overly lean and stringy, as was the case with many runners. For this purpose, the boy’s lack of commitment to the sport was a blessing. Except for a blonde tuft above the genital area and a few wisps peaking out from armpits, the only hair was peach fuzz. The skin, itself, looked soft and smooth. Bud didn’t notice any blemishes, but would find them eventually, if there were any.

Donnie finished and heard the man say, “Come here boy.” It was said more gently than the words themselves might indicate. Still, it was a command. And he was addressed as “boy,” all part of being property, he guessed.

He went over to Bud, in that spirit, neither reluctantly nor eagerly, but dutifully. The man took up the youth’s balls in his right hand, separated them and rolled each one with his fingers. It occurred to the boy that this was the man’s way of taking possession of him, demonstrating to Donnie and to himself that this was among his rights. It was sort of like the consummation of a marriage. Perhaps in the man’s mind it wasn’t official until these things had been done.

The man handled the youngster’s penis in a similar fashion; then said, “Kneel down here between my legs.” Bud opened his pants and brought out his penis. Putting his hands on either side of the kid’s face he guided the lad’s mouth to the erect member. Donnie parted his lips to receive it. Since his head was being held steady and the man was not thrusting, Donnie figured that the fellow only wanted to keep his dick there for a while.

A minute later, Bud pushed the kid’s head back. “OK,” he said, “Up on the bed, hands and knees.”

While the boy got into position, Bud disrobed and, from the bottom drawer of the bureau, retrieved a hand towel some lubricant and a condom. He put the condom on before climbing onto the bed and positioning himself behind the lad. After squeezing some lubricant out of the tube and into his right hand, he applied it vigorously between the youth’s cheeks. He worked in first one and then two fingers to begin the process of stretching and relaxing the sphincter.

Bud wiped his hands on the towel before placing them on the lad’s hips, preparatory for the initial push. Donnie felt the tip of the man’s dick on his anus, then increasing pressure. Gradually, he was opened by the insistent instrument. The man slid into him.

Once he was all the way inside the youth, Bud stopped to give the anus time to adjust and to take the time to run his hands over the exquisite body that was now his to use. Donnie shivered slightly, pleased with these caresses. There had been the chance, after all, that the man would take what he wanted and give nothing. That the delicious touching could be for Bud’s benefit alone did not occur to him.

Then Bud fucked in his usual rather rough way. The boy was pushed flat to the bed. No neophyte, Donnie was familiar with this way of doing things and found it exhilarating. He had been lucky in never having found himself involved with someone who was really brutal. Whenever he had sensed that possibility, he had extracted himself prior to getting into difficulty.

When the man was done he lay on top of the boy, waiting for his breathing to return to normal and enjoying the moment. Donnie felt Bud’s erection subside and then slowly, as if by itself, the penis slid slowly from inside him. It was the natural working action of his rectum.

A while later and before going to his own room, the fellow gave Donnie a hand job. It was the courteous thing to do. And so it was each time that Bud used the boy’s body. Usually, the youth would be called into the master bedroom. The phone on the night stand served as an intercom.