My foster son
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Hey guys! This is my second sexual fantasy that I wrote down for you to enjoy. Once again, it is rather long, but I wanted you to get inside the head of our protagonist.
If anyone finds a grammar mistake, or some weird-sounding word that could be replaced with a more appropriate synonym (sorry, but my English is far from perfect), let me please know in the comments. I appreciate any kind of feedback. My previous story is currently the second most viewed thread in this topic, and this attention encouraged me to write down a new story, although it took me a while.
By the way, if you want to talk about me, my fantasies, my writing, or anything else, don't be shy and send me a message. I find it exciting to know that people are masturbating to my fantasies. Enjoy!
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When I was 28, my life has pretty much got to a point, where I could claim to be content with my overall situation. I had a steady job with better-than-average wage, my apartment was big enough for a family of 4 (family I did not have, thank God), and my sexual life, although consisting of occasional one-night-stands, was, in combination with infrequent masturbation, satisfying my needs. The only thing that bothered me was my inability to find a partner for a long-term relationship, with whom I could spend the rest of my life.
And at this point I decided not to wait anymore for the one true love that will never come, and start repaying my debt to the society. You see, I have always been planning to have a child that I could take care of. Mind me, not my own child, of course – orphanages are full of children, and orphanages are generally the worst place possible to spend your childhood. My reasons were purely altruistic – I was lucky enough to be born to a more-or-less functional family, and I wanted to help someone who did not have such luck. I wanted to raise a child young enough for me to be able to form its personality, but old enough to be able to take care of itself. In other words, I am an independent gay man who certainly does not want to change someone’s diapers, but on the other hand, I do not want to risk adopting someone who might already have traits that could lead to a criminal or even violent behavior.
So I started my search. I visited a local orphanage, agreed on a meeting, looked at the possibilities and their “profiles”, and I started deciding whom I will take home. The idea of choosing a child the way we choose a new smartphone every year horrified me, and I felt like a slaver from 19th century. But then I dismissed this comparison by realizing that my actions will probably lead to saving a young man’s future (of course I wanted a boy, I cannot imagine having to explain all that “period thing” to a littler girl), which would otherwise probably end in a cycle of drug abuse and prison. Sorry for me being so frank, but such is the faith of many who grow up in orphanages.
I chose Logan, 12-year old boy who seemed to have a talent for languages and an interest in history – we already had so much in common! If you expect a detailed physical description of Logan, then I will have to disappoint you – I am not a pervert, I did not think of him this way. Though I have to admit that his looks indicated that in several years, he might turn into a very handsome young man.
Enough with foreshadowing! When we met, I told him not to treat me as an adoptive “father”, but more like an older brother. I told him to call me Josh, but at first he had trouble getting used to informal way of speaking with me. He was very shy in the beginning, especially when he saw my apartment for the first time. Afraid of touching or breaking anything, just like me when I was younger.
But it did not take long for him to get used to his new home. After spending his whole life sharing a room with who-knows-how-many boys, he finally had his own room! Of course I respected his room as his sovereign territory, where he could enjoy all the privacy he needed. I never entered without his permission. In general, I tried to imitate my parents’ style of raising children, which could be compared to a right-wing government – no regulations, but no social welfare. In other words, although I had money to spare, Logan did not get that Xbox he wanted, nor did he wear the most expensive clothes. I wanted him to have a regular life, to learn the value of hard work and money.
My decisions turned out to work well. Our brotherly relationship meant there was trust between us, and when he had a problem, he always told me about it. Well, maybe not always, but he certainly told me about some problems he faced at school. He also knew a lot about me, but I did not tell him that I was gay. I just pretended that I cannot find the right woman to spend my life with.
Although he was not an excellent student, his marks were rather good, and probably better than mine in his age. I can say that I made a good decision when I adopted him, and I also chose the right way of parenthood.
But when he was 16, things suddenly changed. One day he went out on a Friday night, like he always does (I do not mind as long as he does not ask me for money - he only spends the money he earns at his part-time job), but by the time I went to bed (oh, the irony of life – I am 32 and I am sitting at home on a Friday night, watching films and playing video games), he was still outside. I tried not to suspect him of some illegal underage drinking.
When I woke up in the morning, I assumed that Logan was sleeping in his room. He woke up just before noon, and straight from bed, he went to throw up in the bathroom. I was angry and disappointed. Well, I cannot say that I never had “morning sickness” from alcohol, but I started drinking when I was 18, not 16! Of course, I hid my anger throughout the day. His frequent visits to the bathroom accompanied by the sound of vomiting were enough of a punishment for breaking our unwritten rules. He spent the whole day in the apartment, and in the evening he seemed to feel better. When I met him in the kitchen, I told him to take his time when eating dinner, and to come to my room at 7 PM, because we need to have a talk.
He was punctual, like he always is.
“What did you do yesterday night, Logan?”
“Well, we went out with classmates, and I had a few drinks.”
“A few alcoholic drinks, is that right? How old are you, Logan?”
“I am 16, you know that.”
“And what is the legal drinking age?”
“The legal drinking age is 18.”
“So you know that you broke the law. You know that I have always restrained myself from giving you orders, and from prohibiting you anything. I have never even thought of giving you any kind of punishment, and I am not planning to punish you now. But I have to tell you that I’m disappointed. I think I made it possible for you to have a much better life than the one you lead in the orphanage, and your behavior has always been adequate for what you received from me. I hope that the situation from yesterday won’t happen again, and that you’ve learned your lesson. Because if it does, we will have to think of some punishment. You know that I can shut off your Internet anytime I want, I can block your phone, and I can even ground you. But I’m sure I won’t have to do that, right?”
“Josh, thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. I’m sorry I got a bit drunk. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Alright, I’m glad. Off you go then.”
In the next days, life went back to normal. Logan went cycling on Sunday afternoon, but apart from that, he spent the rest of the day in the apartment, reading and studying. The school-days followed the good old routine, but then the Friday came, and Logan went out again. And on Saturday morning, he was vomiting again.
And just like the previous week, I did not tell him anything. Just like the previous Saturday, he felt better in the evening, and once again, I told him to get to my room at 7 PM to talk. But this time, his reaction was different.
“What do you want to talk about? It’s my money that I’ve used yesterday! And it’s none of your business what I’m doing with my money!”
“Listen! You’re still living under my roof, I’m paying your cellphone bills, I’m paying bills for the electricity you’re using! Until you move out, you will have to rule according to my rules! Whatever I say, whatever I tell you to do, you will do that! Now I’ll let you finish your dinner, and we see each other in my room at exactly 7 PM! Don’t even try to be late!”
And I left for my room. At 7 PM, I was patiently waiting for Logan to knock on my door. I was not that angry anymore, and I decided that his punishment will be a week without his cellphone Internet (he can still use the Wi-Fi at home) and to ground him on the next Friday night. Not that bad, is it?
But he didn’t come. By 7:10, I was furious and I went to his room. I entered without knocking and I shouted:
“What are you doing? You were supposed to be in my room ten minutes ago!”
“Fuck your discussion, fuck your punishment! I’m old enough to do whatever I want to do!”
“Are you, young man? Let’s see about that!”
I was in rage and I could not control myself. I grabbed Logan by his shoulder, making sure that it hurts, and I dragged him to my room. I had always avoided physical contact with him, so he was pretty scared by my actions.
In my room, I sat down on my bed and ordered Logan to stand in front of me. He was not as courageous as he was a while ago, but that did not prevent him from being arrogant.
“What was that supposed to mean?” I asked him.
“What do you mean? I’ve told you that there’s nothing to discuss.”
“Oh yes there is, young man. And you’re only making things worse now. You will be without your cellphone Internet for a week, you’re grounded for the next two weeks!”
“Am I? Fuck you, and fuck your Internet, and fuck your two weeks! There’s no way you’re making me do what you want! I’m too old for you to control me!”
“Are you? I thought you were rather adult for your age, but now I see that I was wrong. You’re behaving like a little boy, and you will be punished like a little boy!”
I do not know what got into me, but I was really angry. I wanted to punish him in a fair way, but he made me so furious, that the only thing I could think about was to humiliate him.
“Oh that’s right, I will punish you like a little boy you are. Take off your pants!”
“What? Have you gone crazy?”
“Yes, I have. Take off your pants!”
“I will not, you old pervert! I didn’t know you were queer!”
That was it. I grabbed his body and bended him on my lap. When he found out that I was serious, he started shouting and defending himself, but there was no use – after all, I am an adult 32-year old man, and he is just a 16-year old boy. I pulled down his sweatpants (I wear jeans even at home, but Logan prefers more comfortable clothes), and his underwear. I concentrated to slap his ass as strongly as I could, and I hit it twice. He was still shouting and swearing, so I had to teach him some discipline.
“If you shut up now, I will stop at 10. If you don’t, the number will be much higher!”
He was suddenly quiet. I got what I wanted.
“And you will count out loud. The next slap is number 3.”
After the slap, he sighed and pronounced the number “three” with a quiet voice.
“I didn’t hear you. Speak out, if you don’t want to count up to 20!”
He pronounced the remaining numbers much more clearly and loudly. When we got to 10, I told him:
“And now you will go to the corner, kneel on your knees, and hold in that position for 10 minutes. I will tell you when 10 minutes have passed. If you behave like a child in a kindergarten, you have to expect appropriate punishment.”
He stood up, still with his bare ass, and started to put on the sweatpants and underwear.
“Stop! I didn’t tell you to dress up! If I’m as queer as you said I was, I want to see you bare-assed! Go to the corner like this, with your pants and underwear down!”
So he walked slowly and carefully, with the pants and underwear down at his feet, to the corner. He kneeled down facing a wall.
“No! Turn around! Queer wants to see your dick facing him!”
He acquiesced and turned around, kneeled down again and looked to the ground. I could not humiliate him more. I turned on stopwatch for 10 minutes and told him:
“During the punishment, you will not say a word.”
So my young Logan was there, kneeling on his knees, with his dick partially covered by his T-shirt, yet partially visible. As I mentioned you before, I am not a pervert, and I have never seen (nor wanted to see) Logan naked. I have never fantasized about him, but now that I saw him, I must say that he became quite a cute and handsome boy. Although I tried not to look at him, I could not avoid catching a few glimpses of his cock. After all, in spite of knowing him since he was 12, he is a young man and what he has down there is a penis, object of utmost importance and interest in my life.
When 10 minutes passed, I told him to get up, get dressed and leave. When he shut the door behind himself, I found myself aroused, and I had to masturbate. It is not difficult to guess that as much as I tried not to, I had to think about the previous half an hour while jerking off.
On the next day, Logan did not talk to me, except for the obligatory phrases like “good morning”. I do not think that he was angry, but I know that from now on, he will respect me more.
A week has passed and I completely forgot that Logan was supposed to be grounded on Friday afternoon and night. After he got back from school on Friday afternoon, he went out for a bike ride. He did not come back until 7 PM, which was time when I was leaving the apartment to meet with one cute younger guy I knew from Tinder. Date went as I planned, we drank three beers, and then he said: “It’s time for bed.”
“Your place?” I asked.
“No, sorry, I’ve got roommates.”
“If you want, we can go to my place. I have a foster son in the apartment, but he’s probably sleeping by now.”
“No, sorry, I’m not up for anything tonight.”
“Not even a blowjob?”
“Sorry, I’m really tired and I have to wake up early tomorrow.”
I did not try to convince him anymore. However, I was very horny and this guy’s attitude enraged me. What’s wrong with him? We’re both guys, we like each other, we’re both hot! What’s the problem?
Well, what could I do? So I headed home. When I got to the apartment, still a bit tipsy and angry, I needed to blow off steam, and the only available person was Logan. He was at home, and he was not sleeping yet. I knocked on his door.
“Yes?”
“Hey, how was your day? Have you got the result of your mathematics exam?”
“Well, yes I did.”
“And?”
“I got an E. Sorry, next time I will study harder.”
That was exactly what my angry, horny and drunk brain needed to hear.
“An E? So you’re getting drunk every week, and then you almost fail all your exams? You know what that means, Logan, right?”
“I did not fail anything, and no, I do not know what that means”, he snapped.
“You have 10 minutes to think about what you’ve done, and then we see each other in my room.”
I shut the door and went to my room. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I knew it wasn’t right, and I also knew that Logan didn’t deserve it. But I didn’t care.
In 10 minutes, he knocked on my door.
“Come in!”
He entered and stood in front of my bed, just like last Sunday before the punishment.
“I see you haven’t learned your lesson, and this time I have to be harsher with you.”
I stood up, facing Logan, close enough to feel his dick on my dick through my jeans and his sweatpants. When I started to take off my belt, I saw the fear on his face.
“Please, don’t do that. I will study much harder. Josh, I will study every day, and I will do everything you tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Logan. You had enough time to show your remorse. Take off your pants and underwear, fold them, and put them on that chair.”
He did exactly what I told him. I sat back on the bed, with the belt in my right hand, and told him:
“Bend on my lap, just like last Sunday. 10 hits with a belt will teach you. You will count out loud after every smash, alright?”
He swallowed quietly, and he bended on my lap. I could feel that he was shaking from fear, but I was too horny and drunk to care.
After the first hit, he cried from pain. I waited until he said the number, and I hit him again. Then I massaged his butt with my hand. Oh, what a lovely smooth butt he has! Two more hits, every time he screamed louder than before. I could not resist touching his balls and dick with my cold hands. I pulled his foreskin a few times before continuing with his punishment. He did not say a word of protest, probably because he was afraid of getting 10 extra smashes. After three more, I massaged his ass again, this time touching his butthole with my fingers.
It did not take long to reach the number 10, but I was already pretty horny, and I wanted to keep playing with him. Unfortunately, he was, for a change, behaving like a good boy. No crying, no shouting, not a single word of protest. In spite of that, after the punishment was over, I did not immediately send him to the corner. I touched his dick, balls and butthole a few times, this time pushing my finger a bit into his anus.
It only took a few seconds, and I told him: “I want to see you kneeling in the corner, just like last week. But this time you will have to stay there for 20 minutes, because 10 minutes obviously didn’t teach you to behave right.”
He did what I told him. Once I saw Logan kneeling, and his cute teenage dick hanging down, I got even more aroused. I just had to jerk off after what happened, but I did not want to cut short his punishment. Ah, what the hell! I have seen him naked, he can see me naked too, right? So I unzipped my jeans, took out my cock, and started stroking it while looking at Logan’s young body. Oh, boy, if you could only see the look on his face! Surprised and a bit scared, but relieved that the most painful part of punishment was over. After a minute or two, I was close to climax, so I stopped. Horniness made me blind and I told him:
“Logan, that’s enough. Come here and sit on my laps.”
Once again, he fulfilled the order.
“No, not like that. From the back.”
This probably still seemed better to him than a painful punishment. My dick was touching his back, and I started stroking his dick instead. He got hard. I was very close to coming, so I avoided touching myself. After a few minutes, I took out lube that I had hidden in a drawer next to my bed, put a bit on my fingers, and started massaging his ass crack.
“Please, don’t do this. I will be a good boy from now.”
“Of course you will. You can start being a good boy right now.”
I lifted his body a few centimeters up, so that I could put my dick to the entry to his ass. Then I forced him to slowly sit back on my laps. I could feel his irregular breath while my penis was entering the insides of his probably virgin body.
“Nice and slowly, be a good boy.”
Of course, in this position I could not push my dick into him up to my balls, but whatever, I could not enjoy more the feeling of being inside him. He did not protest or resist anymore. When he was sitting comfortably again, this time with my dick up his ass, I began to masturbate him again. After two or three minutes, I forced him to lift and to sit back again. I could see how uncomfortable that was for his ass, but I did not care. I kept on stroking his dick. How ironic that some guys who are actually looking forward to get fucked cannot keep their cocks hard with another hard cock in their ass, and my Logan, who found himself in this situation involuntarily, did not have a slightest problem with this. I continued to masturbate him, while running my other hand up his T-shirt. My cold fingers on his belly startled him, but I did not mind, I just stroked him harder to compensate for the unpleasant feeling.
After a while, I saw that he was getting closer to orgasm. That is when I started with the actual fucking. When he came, I could feel the contractions of his asshole on my dick. I fucked him a few seconds more and I came too, into his ass.
We sat like this for a few seconds more. Then I lifted him and pulled my cock out of his ass.
“Take these tissues and clean yourself. Did you like it?”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t care. Now go to have a shower.”
Before he took a step to collect his underwear and pants, I slapped his ass for the last time. I do not think he enjoyed it, but whatever. I honestly hope that after this evening, he will respect my authority, and our relationship will revert back to its previous brotherly form. If he does not, I might start thinking of more original ways to punish him.
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Next punishment idea (just saying): make Logan his slave rubber boy with a heavy predicament in total bondage. :cheers: :cheers: :cheers: