A Bedtime Story
by Touchstone
You probably noticed me as soon as you arrived. How could you not? With the party already in full swing, the first thing you probably picked up was that there was a crowd near the bar- at its center, me, my miniature audience hanging on my every word.
But you weren’t hooked yet. No, you took your time. Your eyes were wandering for that girlfriend of yours, silently hoping that she wouldn’t be mad that you had arrived late. And so you dismissed me, the only time you would be capable of doing so, and started searching. By the time you found her, my audience had already dispersed and she was introducing you to the members of her family who happened to pass by the two of you, holding hands by the piano.
She never got the chance to tell you who I was. You ended up coming towards the bar anyway the moment she let go of you. You’re probably still unsure about why you chose the stool next to me. But people seldom make conscious decisions about these things anyway, unless there’s a specific reason you want to be closer or further from someone. So I’ll give you this one- I wasn’t responsible for you sitting beside me. You were.
Think about that whenever you remember this night.
I said hello first. I’m older after all, and I appreciate how tiresome waiting can be when you can see something on the menu you immediately want.
The way you looked at me could have had a slight element of disdain. It was hard to tell with the dim lighting. Either way there was something about those blue eyes of yours that told me that you probably thought higher of yourself than most of your peers, which is why you might not have been immediately flattered by the attention I was giving you.
But you humoured me anyway. Answered my questions half-heartedly. I counted maybe ten minutes before you started asking your own in return. It took you that long to realise that you were actually curious about who I was.
You sniggered when I told you that I was a hypnotherapist. You politely tried to hide it, but I saw. Don’t worry- I took no offense. Most of my boys tend to meet me with scepticism initially anyway. I almost prefer it that way. Some of the men who come to me willingly in an attempt to stop smoking or lose weight almost make it too easy.
The usual questions ensued- I’m used to it by now. Why did I choose this line of work? How does it work? Can I make someone do something they’re not entirely on board with?
I chose my answers carefully, of course. Didn’t want to scare you off too soon. Thing is, though- I never lied. Not outright anyway. You gobbled up the half-truths I offered, the mild interest you started with slowly growing, whether you liked it or not. Unconsciously, you seemed to be leaning closer and closer, a fly getting more and more trapped in my web. You weren’t even phased when I told you that some of my clients quit smoking once they found other things to put in their mouths. My hand was on your lap at this point, gently stroking your thigh. Would you have flinched if you hadn’t been drinking? I guess neither of us will ever know at this point.
Even the guests adjourning to the living room to hear my brother speak didn’t seem to rouse you. You weren’t even really talking anymore- just listening, a trusting smile on your face as I continued to talk about everything and yet nothing at the same time. Anyone walking in on our conversation might have been confused, but then they wouldn’t understand that at this point, the words wouldn’t have mattered anymore. All that mattered was my voice, and the strange comfort it brought you. I could have been talking about taxes or politics for all you cared. All that mattered was that I kept talking.
I slipped in a brief mention, a hint of what plans I may have had for you that night.
You just smiled and nodded mindlessly. The placid expression on your boyish face never changing as I just as suddenly started talking about the weather again.
You walked into this house that night a likely prospect. My niece’s boyfriend. But by the end of my brother’s speech, even the sound of applause didn’t make you stir. Your eyes half-lidded, you could only sigh contentedly as I gently stroked your chin, your distant mind still trying to pay attention to my thoughts on gun control.
I knew right then that you were mine.
It may have seemed strange for you- that I would suddenly stop talking mid-conversation and start walking away. You didn’t even know my name yet. What exactly had I been talking about? Why did it seem so important?
Slowly, you got up, not knowing why you were walking after me, away from where the guests were. You didn’t feel safe with the others for some reason. Not as safe as you would have felt with me anyway.
You followed me up the stairs quietly. Almost as though you knew that we needed to be discreet. Almost as though you knew what you were walking into, your eyes still focused on the middle-aged man who you almost physically could not let out of your sight.
I waited for you to walk through the door before I closed it, locking the two of us inside the guest bedroom.
Alone at last.
I could see the hint of confusion in your eyes. Why had you followed me up here?
Still you didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Swaying slightly as you tried to remain standing. And so I circled around you, hungrily appraising what was now rightfully mine.
To say that my niece has good taste in men would be an understatement. By the end of tonight you would have been the third boyfriend that I have taken to this very room. But I’ll admit that there was something different about you. You were probably the only one who had worked hard to keep her. Even through the suit you wore so well, you had clearly tried harder than the others to keep in shape- a hypothesis I quickly confirmed as I gently helped you out of the shirt you were wearing. A nice, solid chest, a flat stomach which could be sculpted into abs given a bit more work, the black tie you were still wearing, pointing straight down to the barest hint of the blonde treasure trail peeking through the waistband of your trousers-these were things that pleased me greatly. And I was content to watch for a while. The slow rise and fall of your chest. The way your head was beginning to droop forward ever so slightly. The empty gaze that met mine when I cupped your chin. You were perfect. A vessel waiting to be filled. I would return life to those eyes. Just as I replaced your indifference with trust, I would soon replace that trust with absolute desire.
I loosened my own tie, keeping my shirt on as I wrapped my arms around you from behind. The distance between us finally closed, I could almost hear you gasp- your mouth soundlessly open as your body stiffened momentarily, then slackened back almost gratefully into my embrace.
Such a good boy.
As much of a fan as I am of taking things slow, the urgency of our absence remaining undetected wasn’t lost on me- one of my hands almost instantly trailing down your chest, unbuckling your belt with practised ease.
You were only half-erect through your red briefs. I will admit that I may have been mildly annoyed by this. Still it would not matter in the grand scheme of things- your full six inches did not need much more encouragement to reach full mast, and I would make sure that desire was one of the lessons you would learn tonight.
And you were such a good student, one worthy of the highest praise- even if I am getting ahead of myself here.
I turned you around- barely meeting any resistance. Your mouth still hanging open, I wasted no time and sealed it with my own, giving you your first taste of the submission I was offering. It was like the flick of a switch- a jolt of electricity causing you to shudder as my tongue probed yours, your hands and your eyes slowly coming to life as though I was breathing it back into you.
There were no questions- your tongue occupied enough as it were. Still I imagined your hands roaming up and down my back as an external manifestation of said questions, a faint glimmer of the curiosity that you were no longer able to verbalize.
The first audible moan I won from you that night came when I kissed your neck, your head graciously tilting back to allow me access. Your hands no longer content with the damp fabric of my shirt, your fingers were soon fumbling with my buttons, my impatience seemingly rubbing off on you.
That’s probably why I so often fall for boys like you. So impressionable. So eager to please. The barest hint of a strong male presence, and you’re almost ready to follow me to the ends of the earth if need be.
I made no such demands that night. And while the decisions you made were by no stretch your own, I remember you falling to your knees before me, requiring no encouragement, no soft pressure on your shoulders, no words spoken since our conversation ended at the bar.
I remember stroking your hair, smiling down on you, feeling like a proud father despite the short period of time that we’d known each other.
You pulled my pants down, your prize already peeking at you through the waistband of my boxers. I helped you along and tugged them down, setting it free. You stared at it with a mixture of confusion and awe. And while my sense of self-preservation would have usually taken advantage of your open mouth, hurrying things along before anyone came looking for us, for the first time, I found myself content to just watch you drink in the sight of another man’s cock so close to your face. Finally finding my words again since we’d left the bar, I remember gently telling you to take your time.
I did say that there was something different about you, after all.
My wait was shorter than I’d anticipated. You looked back up at me for a fleeting moment with a confident smirk that I wasn’t used to seeing in my boys. I remember the briefest touch of fear- perhaps you had woken up somehow, getting ready to get up and leave.
But you didn’t. Your lips slid over the head of my cock, a soft suckling noise escaping your occupied mouth as your eyes closed.
My hand gently eased you forward and your complied, slowly taking more and more of my throbbing cock into your mouth. You gagged. Once. Twice. But your determination didn’t seem to falter.
By the time your nose was buried in my pubic hair, your eyes opened and you slowly withdrew, your nostrils flaring until my saliva-soaked cock slipped out of your mouth.
You looked up at me again. The strange ghost of your former self seemingly banished- that smirk now replaced with a look of worship, desire, lust.
You were finally ready.
As you dove back into your task like a man possessed, seemingly unable to fight your newfound hunger for my cock, I finally rewarded you with some of the answers to the questions you came up here with, even if your attentions were entirely consumed by the object of power in your mouth.
“Power,” I whispered as you quickly found a rhythm that you could be comfortable with. “All men crave it. Lucky are the few who will find comfort in merely being close to it. In worshipping it.”
And worship you did. A devoted subject to your new God, your entranced mind paid no heed to the fact that you had always considered yourself straight. Obedience just made more sense. It didn’t matter that I was a man. It didn’t matter that I was probably twenty years older than you. I could have given you a gun and you would have pointed it at yourself and pulled the trigger if you thought that that would impress me.
It was with this realization that my hips bucked and I came, satisfying at least some of your newer curiosities. I could hear you gulping it down dutifully, could feel your tongue and your lips desperately coaxing my softening cock for all it had to give. I’d like to imagine that the single streak of cum that did escape your lips, you left on purpose to seal the deal on what this encounter meant to me.
You rose to your feet a newly made boy. The taste of cum seared so deeply into your psyche, you knew that there would be no turning back. Unlike your predecessors, who would revert to blank mindlessness at the completion of whatever task I set for them, the look in your eyes before you wrapped your arms around me at your own behest-
It looked like a lot more than quiet acceptance.
I heard the crowd downstairs singing my brother Happy Birthday, and knew that our time was nearly up. Your bulge remained prominently hard even as we dressed ourselves in silence- another thing that distinguished you from the others. I couldn’t decide then- and I still remain unsure- whether you were that way because I had only awakened desires you already had within you, or whether it was because you were just more vulnerable than anyone else I had ever met, beneath even that cocky self-assured exterior.
Either way, my mind was made up.
The kiss we shared was a promise, whether you realized it or not. Where I usually proceed to holding my boys for a brief period of time, whispering them the usual set of commands to forget and return to my beloved niece, for once I was inspired to be selfish- more so than I usually am, anyway.
You nodded as I finished speaking, barely noticing the business card I slipped quietly into your suit pocket, just behind the cigarettes.
By the time you were yourself again- if you can even consider now that that person who rejoined the party and kissed my niece was indeed your true self- I was already gone, knowing that you would come find me of your own accord the next day.
And the rest, I think you remember pretty clearly. My niece will probably never know that the car she got for her birthday the following month was mostly fuelled by guilt at what I had taken from her. Nor will she ever know that the job offer that took you across the country, ending your relationship with her, never existed in the first place. For all intents and purposes, if she ever thinks of you now that she’s married, she probably imagines you holding another woman in bed. Instead of, say, sucking my cock to soothe whatever pangs of guilt I occasionally get, or listening to my voice while you lie contentedly in my arms.
We should visit her someday. We took pains to attend her wedding separately (although we did sneak upstairs for old time’s sake), but I’d like it if she could attend ours without feeling betrayed.
Perhaps I should speak to her privately before the invitations get sent out. Just to soften the blow.
What do you think?
On second thought- don’t answer that yet. Good boy.
Mmm.
I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of tasting myself in your mouth.
Now c’mere. Daddy’s going to reward you for listening so attentively.
END