Jarod has agreed to participate in Richard's last, and extraordinarily kinky therapy session. But Jarod delivers an unexpected twist that Richard never saw coming.
Thanks for hanging in there with me on this story. It's been a labor of love. I'd welcome any feedback you have at psorenson9@hotmail.com.
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Chapter 11
"There's one more step we need to take together and it will potentially be more difficult than even last night. It could shake you to your core, but I think it would be tremendously healing." Richard paused and then added, "I'm proposing we meet for dinner in a quiet place Tuesday night and I'll explain it to you then."
An array of reactions bounced around my brain: intrigue, fear, exuberance, alarm, curiosity, anxiety, excitement, lust, the list was endless. Who were "the others" he referred to? Even with answers to these questions, there was no way I wouldn't at least hear him out. We had both just professed our commitment to one another, and last night had been...there's no word to describe it. I needed to hear what that one last step would be.
"Of course, Richard. How could I say `no' now, after all we've been together. Just tell me where and when and I'll be there."
"Red Lantern Pub, Tuesday at 7", he responded. And with that, he reached across the table, clutched my hands and leaned over to kiss me.
----/----
Richard couldn't believe how quickly he had fallen for Jarod. Even at his age he still could have just about any guy in Toronto where he lived. He was well known, successful, highly sought after and desired by guys of almost every age. And deservedly. He was drop dead handsome, had a lucrative practice which supported his affluent-without-being-ostentatious lifestyle, and had a body most 20-somethings would aspire to. He repeatedly made the annual Top-10-Gay-Bachelors list in Toronto. These advantages had served him well as he had already fucked nearly every hot guy in this town. And he was perfectly content with this. He didn't long for anything beyond what he already had.
Until he met Jarod.
The night they met him at Jarod's sister's party changed his life. When first saw Jarod he audibly gasped. The shirt Jarod was wearing (unbuttoned provocatively to the 2nd or 3rd button) covered a taut, muscled, hairless torso. And his tight-but-not-too-tight pants displayed a package that longed to be groped and an ass that begged to be abused. This young man clearly worked hard to maintain that body and it showed. Richard was out of his mind. And his schoolboy infatuation drove him to clumsy come-on lines throughout the evening. He practically chased Jarod out the door when he was leaving to take one more shot at him. And it worked. He handed Jarod his business card and suggested he call him for an appointment. Jarod would call later in the week to set up an appointment.
Although Richard grappled with the foolishness of his behavior, he struggled even more reconciling the professional boundaries he had crossed. It was clear Jarod was struggling with father issues, but Richard used that as a ruse to get him into his office. He was violating every professional standard that had guided him throughout his career, and he wasn't proud of that.
But men often don't think with their brain. They think with an organ somewhat lower on their anatomy, and Richard had succumbed to that.
In their first session together, Richard used Jarod's anguish as an excuse to become physically close. Again, he wanted to help Jarod, but he equally wanted to touch his taught skin, to embrace his muscled body. And when he boldly ordered Jarod to remove his clothes saying, "I want my boy nude", Jarod didn't hesitate. Jarod relished the opportunity to become nude in front of Richard as much as Richard desired to see him that way.
In the second session, Richard was even less subtle. Richard provocatively ordered Jarod to undress him, marched him to his bed and proceeded with a full-frontal fuck. Jarod left begging for more.
Richard pushed the limits on Jarod's third session by assuming full BDSM dominance. He had no idea how Jarod would respond, but, once again, he willingly submitted, albeit cautiously. Using restraint, Richard tortured him and Jarod quickly came to appreciate the role of bondage in his quickly expanding sexual landscape. Shockingly, Richard ordered Jarod to brutally fuck him to seek revenge on his father. Jarod reluctantly agreed and it resulted in an epic fuck for both of them.
And above all, as the two of them spent more time together, the more they genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Jarod savored Richard's wisdom and mentorship; Richard enjoyed Jarod's youthfulness and worldview.
But tonight would be the final test. Tonight, Jarod would learn that if they were to commit to each other, Richard would demand Jarod's complete submission: Jarod would agree to sexually submit to Richard's three fuck-buddies, Steve, Little Marco, and Beast, while Richard watched. Put less politely, Richard was whoring Jarod out. Jarod would succumb, and Richard would ardently observe his male friends using his boy.
This would be Jarod's final test.
----//----
Richard kissed me goodbye as I climbed into my Uber after breakfast. His parting words were, "I'll be at Red Lantern Pub Tuesday night at 7. I hope to see you there. But if you choose not to come, I'll understand. I'm going to be asking a lot of you."
What could he be talking about? Why couldn't he tell me now? Why would we need to be at a restaurant? Why so early in the week? What did he mean when he said "so the others can plan their weekend?" But after everything that had happened so far, I have absolutely no regrets' I thought to myself. Meeting Richard was a game-changer. He was making me whole, and the sex was unlike anything I even knew existed. I felt like I had made real progress sorting through the issues with my father, and while the "revenge fuck" was certainly an unconventional therapeutic approach (to say the least), it honestly seemed to help. It was like a huge weight was being lifted off my chest.
I got to my apartment, put my overnight bag down, and relaxed in a chair with a sense of peacefulness that I'd never felt before. Was I just wishing all this to be true, or was my time with Richard really making a difference? I didn't know, but what I did know was that Richard had not once put me in an untenable position. Challenging? Yes. Unexpected? Hell yes. But never threatening or uncomfortable. No matter how painful my memories were, or how raw our sex was, I never felt out of control or frightened. There was no question in my mind that I'd meet him Tuesday night and hear him out.
As expected, the two days until our dinner dragged. I was so mystified about where this was going that I forced myself to put it out of my mind. It seemed ridiculous to waste energy on guessing.
The night arrived, and I dressed in my best sexy clothes to make Richard proud to be seen with me. I knew of the restaurant but had never been there. It had the reputation of being high energy and gay-friendly so I was happy to finally experience it. I walked in and told the host I was there to meet Richard and he promptly escorted me to his table. It was an out of the way banquette so we could easily have a private conversation, but not secluded. Kind of the best table in the house. Privacy, but still part of the energy. Once again, Richard had it figured out.
As I approached, Richard immediately stood to greet me. His enthusiasm made my heart beat faster; he seemed delighted (and relieved) to see me. In front of the host and the other restaurant guests, he gave me a warm hug and romantic, unapologetic kiss on the lips. "Sit down, young man", he said as he gestured for me to climb into the banquette on the inside of the booth. `What a gentleman', I sighed to myself.
My throat was dry; I hadn't prepared an opening statement, but he bailed me out. "I'm so glad you came. Going two days without seeing you has been torture. I don't want to go that long anymore."
It was like he had read my mind, but to hear him say it made my heart beat even faster. That's exactly how I'd felt but I tried not to be so presumptuous to assume he felt that way about me. I was so moved I couldn't speak, all I could do was lower my head and look down. I quickly felt one of his hands lift my chin up and pull me into him for a kiss. "Thank you, Daddy", was all I could say. "I don't know why I'm here, but I couldn't have dreamed for a better welcome." Richard looked me directly in my eyes and responded, "Me too boy. And I hope you still feel that way after we talk."
I had no response. I just wanted to enjoy the moment so I leaned into him and let him put his arm around me. For the umpteenth time since we'd met, I wanted time to stop. This strong, virile man, holding me and signaling to everyone in this trendy restaurant that I'm the one. I'm the one he wants. The one he fucks.
Richard took the lead in suggesting wines, apps, and dinner. It was a feast; not a glutenous feast, but a feast for sophisticated adults. Once again, he was taking me places I'd never experienced.
After being served our entrees, steadfastly avoiding the elephant in the room, he put down his fork, took my hands and said, "I don't think it's possible I could be happier. But, as I shared the other night, there's one more step I want you to take to cement our commitment. And it will be challenging, possibly even disturbing for you. I don't want you to feel like you owe it to me. Only do this for me if you understand why I want it and how it can help you."
I still didn't know where this was going. I only knew he hadn't abused my trust so far, and that's all I had to go on. I closed my eyes, gulped, and replied, "I don't know what you're about to propose, but I owe it to you to listen."
I immediately felt his grip on my hands tighten and he replied, "Thank you, Jarod." He then cleared his throat and began what seemed like a prepared, and possibly even rehearsed speech: "Jarod, you and I have quickly built a relationship from which we both benefit. I am your mentor; you give me life. I am your teacher, you are my student. I lead, you follow." He hesitated before adding, "I dominate, you submit."
Richard may have found the last point awkward to say; I found it exhilarating. I was only just learning how submission turned me on. It was like I was born to it. I leaned over to him, kissed him, looked straight into his eyes and said, "You dominate, I submit." Hearing myself say it was thrilling.
I could feel his sense of relief when I affirmed his words which made it easier for him to go on. "We have one more step to cement this relationship. It will be difficult, but necessary", he finished.
I still couldn't imagine where this was going, so I naively responded, "Yes Richard, just tell me".
Now he clutched my hands even tighter, paused, and said, "Remember my friends I introduced you to last week...Steve, Little Marco, and Beast?" he asked.
"Yes..."
"They're my best friends in the world. And", pausing a bit to pick his words, "we're also regular fuck-buddies". Now there was a long pause before he continued, "I want that to continue, but I want you to be a part of it. A key part of it. I'm asking you to join us Saturday night. And I want you to...", again, a long pause, "submit to them. While I watch."
Stunned. Confused. Speechless. And surprisingly, a little turned on.
"I know you didn't see this coming. And I know it sounds selfish and kinky", Richard quickly added. "But based on what we've been through together, I believe you'd benefit from it. And allowing me to witness your submission to them would cement your full commitment to me."
Trying to get my footing, I stuttered, "What would this entail, Richard?"
He clearly had this thought through....."On the first Saturday night of the month, I host a boys' dinner at my place for the four of us. We drink a lot of scotch, smoke cigars, watch raunchy porn, often just in our jocks. Sometimes it's a sweaty orgy in bed, other times we go hard in the darkroom. You saw those guys. They're the sexiest three men on the planet. Steve's got a dick that, I swear, is over 10" long. If Marco had his way, he'd spend every day of his life on his back getting fucked. And Beast...what a fucking daddy. I could sit on his cock all day long and have him purr in my ear." The last comment surprised me as Richard, with the notable exception of last weekend, seemed a total top. But at this point, I didn't think there was anything that would surprise me anymore.
Before I could respond, he added, "This Saturday night is the next one. I'd like you there. I want you to be part of this group. And I'd like you to not only join, but to submit to them with me watching them while they do. You're the most important person in my life. Watching you please my friends would be the sexiest, most important thing you could do for me."
To say I was conflicted would be the understatement of the century. On one hand, this man I had learned to trust is now telling me he wants to whore me out to his friends. But on the other hand (and I was ashamed to acknowledge it), almost immediately after hearing his proposal I could feel my cock twitch. Hard. I totally remembered meeting each of them at The Ramrod that night. Steve's muscled body, Marco's hungry ass, and Beast....the next best thing to my own Daddy. The image of their three hard cocks slapping my face flashed through my mind.
I hadn't stood up and left the table so Richard continued..."but there's more". `WTF more could there be?' I thought...'isn't this enough'?
"What I just shared is the sexual, kinky part. The next part is the therapeutic part".
Now totally confused, I said, "OK....?"
He reached down next to him on the banquette seat, pulled out a package and handed it to me. It was a gift box, the size you'd use to package a shirt.
"Open this," he ordered. "This is for you to wear Saturday night."
Now completely puzzled, I placed it on the table and opened it. There was tissue paper obscuring what was inside, but there was a card on top that with my name on it. I picked it up, looked at him and he said, "Please read it."
I opened the card and, in his handwriting:
"Jarod, I believe Saturday night will be difficult, but it's necessary to help you overcome your past. If you agree to join us, I'd like you to wear this. It won't be easy, but it will help you put the painful memories of your father out of your mind forever."
`What the fuck could be in this box?', I thought. After reading the card, I peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a silky, red garment of some sort. I pulled it out and held it up to see what it was. And gasped.
It was a wrestling singlet.
Richard was asking me to wear a wrestling singlet for a night of sexual submission to his friends. A night where they'd use me however they wanted. The wrestling singlet symbolized the most traumatic moment of my life. The night I won the provincial wrestling championship, but showcased my erection as I received the award. My father tormented me by calling me "Boner Boy" ever since that day. And now I was being asked to wear this singlet to what was essentially a gang bang, where I was the main event.
All I could do was look in my lap and take deep breaths. One part of my brain was reliving the nightmare of that evening and my relationship with my father. Having just won the championship and being exposed with an obscene erection in front of an auditorium full of spectators. The other part of my brain flash-forwarded to Saturday night when I'd be wearing a wrestling singlet just like the one I wore that night, but to a gangbang where I'd be the guest of honor. Richard's three friends were so insanely hot, there was no question I'd be as hard Saturday night as I was the night I won the trophy. But, unlike that night long ago, my exposed erection wouldn't be a source of humiliation. Richard was asking me to do this because he knew my erection would be a source of pride.
I can't explain why, but the trauma of the past surrendered to the promise of hedonistic group sex....me wearing only a sexy singlet and being forced to submit to Richard's fuck-buddies while he watched. But more than the decadent pleasure of begin the near-naked center of attention, I wanted to please him. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to show him I could take more abuse than he could ever imagine. I was in.
"I'm in", I blurted. I responded more quickly than he expected because I was afraid if I thought about it too long I'd change my mind. Everything he had done to me or asked of me was far outside my comfort zone, yet it all had been both erotic and healing. I convinced myself this was the same thing, just on steroids.
I was surprised how easily I got my head around the gang bang thing, in fact it made me hard just thinking about being objectified by Richard's three studly friends. Steve's long cock, Marco's sweet hole, and Beast's furry body. But, damn, the singlet, that one was tough. I hadn't worn a wrestling singlet since that humiliating night when my boner and balls were ceremonially displayed to a people-packed auditorium. The thought of group sex with these guys made me hard, but the recollection of that night deflated me just as quickly. But I forced myself to believe Richard was right. This was what I needed to get past this once and for all. Dammit, I'm doing it.
"Where and when?" I defiantly asked Richard.
"Saturday night, 7:30, my place", he answered without a trace of emotion.
We had finished dinner by this time, so it was natural for me to start to leave. Sensing my discomfort, Richard grabbed my arm and said, "Jarod, you don't have to do this. You will remain special to me no matter what. But I honestly believe that, like everything that's come before this, what I'm asking you to do will help you heal." Realizing I was looking in my lap and starting to tear up, he cupped my chin and pulled my head up so we were looking into each other's eyes. "I promise you", he finished.
"I'll get there Richard, I promise. I just need to digest this."
I made the move to leave but he had to step out of the banquette to let me out. When he did, I noticed a significant bulge in his pants. Looking around the restaurant to see if we were being watched, I pulled him to me, cupped that lovely bulge, and whispered in his ear, "I know you're whoring me out to your friends", and the squeezing added, "but I this is what I really want."
"You got it, boy."
Surprisingly, the days sped by and Saturday was finally here. Richard hadn't explicitly instructed me, but I knew down deep he wanted my balls packed with cum tonight so I didn't touch myself all week. When my mind wandered to those three studs using me with Richard watching, my cock would harden up, but I was loyal to my unspoken promise to Richard. The other significant topic that distracted me was something I had tucked away in the back of my closet, buried back there for as long as I'd had this apartment. I almost threw it out several times, but for some reason I didn't. Maybe tonight was that reason.
Fortunately, work that week was quiet so Saturday was all mine. I had an intense workout, steam, sauna and extra-long shower. I took a short nap in the afternoon as I knew I'd need the energy later on, and douched myself to the point where I was as clean inside as I was out. I didn't know what would find its way up there tonight and I didn't want to take any chances. It was time to get dressed and I had Richard's singlet laid out on the bed, ready for me. I don't know where he got it, probably Amazon, but it wasn't entirely authentic. Too-bright red, crappy elastic in the legs, and some kind of modesty panel to make the front less "explicit". I tried it on and I think Richard would've been disappointed. I studied myself in the mirror and quickly called an audible. I stripped out of Richard's faux singlet, rummaged to the back of my closet, found what I hadn't looked at in 10 years and put it on. Unlike Richard's gift, now I wore the real thing. It had my name and number across the back and no modesty panel whatsoever. I studied myself in the mirror and gasped at what I saw. I looked insanely hot. I had gained around 20 pounds of muscle since I last wore it so the singlet was tighter than ever. And because it was white, my parts were more exposed than they'd ever have been in the red singlet with the modesty panel. I wasn't even hard yet, but I looked more explicitly obscene than I did a decade ago when I had a raging hardon. In a way I was flooded with pain from that night, but that feeling quickly gave way to the image in the mirror of a smoking hot young athlete. Without giving it a second thought, I quickly put my street clothes over my "uniform" and left. I had to move fast or I'd change my mind.
Uber, 15 minute drive, buzzer, elevator, elevator doors open, just like the last three weekends. But this time when the doors slid open, Richard, and Richard alone, was waiting for me. He greeted me with a warm hug and kiss, and quietly asked, "You ok with this? You don't have to do it if you don't want to." While I genuinely appreciated his concern, I was in. There was no turning back. "Fuck you Richard," I boldy said. "You want to whore me out to your friends, that's what I signed up for. That's what you're getting." So as not to totally freak him out, I leaned into him and gave him a warm, kiss. "Let's do this, I'll be ok", I said, as I nuzzled him.
Stunned, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me into his bedroom. I could hear Steve, Marco, and Beast in the other room, having a good time, and what sounded like a porn soundtrack below the din. Grunting, moaning, and the word "fuck" used repeatedly. It sounded like they'd been there awhile, which was fine with me. But then again, if they'd been watching porn for the last hour, I may be in serious trouble. When we got to Richard's room, we sat on the bed and he said, "Here's how this will go down. You'll take everything off here in my room but your singlet. I'll bring you out because I want them to see you wearing just that. They don't know the story behind it and they never will, that's just for you and me. All they know is you were the Ontario provincial wrestling champion and we all agree wrestling singlets are incredibly hot. They may or may not have speculated how hot you'd look in yours", he said with a wink.
I felt incredibly relieved they didn't know my story. It was ok, more than ok actually, for Richard to know the ugly truth behind that singlet, but for them to know would've made tonight almost impossible.
So now it was showtime. I stood up, removed my shoes, shirt, and pants until I was finally down to my singlet. But the singlet I wore wasn't red, it was white. And it had my last name, number, and 2013, the year I graduated, on it. Richard looked stunned. "Is that what I think it is?" Richard croaked.
"Yes sir", I replied. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going all in. This is the singlet I wore that night. Given the nightmare it created for me, I don't know why I kept it all these years. Maybe on some level, I knew tonight would come." But in a way I was secretly happy that I had kept it and was wearing it tonight. Richard was truly stunned and he kept scanning me head-to-toe, up and down, over and over. He'd gaze at my groin a little bit longer than the rest of my body and could easily make out my cock, pushed flat against my torso pointing directly at my left shoulder with my two cum-filled balls stretching out underneath it. He lovingly leered at me with equal parts admiration and lust. He made me proud of my body and my sexuality, and I wasn't going to disappoint him.
"Oh, my boy, my boy," Richard wept. He was actually tearful as he pulled me into him and hugged me harder than ever before. "You are fucking brave. And so fucking hot. You go out there and show those men who you are."
Just about then, we heard Beast yell out, "What the fuck is taking so long? You two better not have started without us."
"Let's go, Daddy", I said as I grabbed Richard's hand and pulled him into the living room.
There sat Steve, Little Marco, and Beast with their backs to us, watching gay gangbang porn on the big screen. Each of them wore nothing but a jockstrap, was holding a drink, with a cloud of cigar smoke hanging over Beast. It smelled like booze, smoke, sweat, and trouble. And I fucking loved it.
We stayed silent as they intently watched the porn. It should have come as no surprise that the scene was 4 hot daddy's gangbanging a muscled, twenty-something guy. They were probably using the video to plan the events of the evening. After a few moments, Richard cleared his throat and they all turned to us. When they registered what they were looking at, they had a drop-dead, amazed look on their face. Richard immediately pulled my hand into the air, just as the referee had 10 years prior and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce the 2013 Ontario Province champion, Jarod Emerson."
But the cheers I heard from this cast of characters were quite different from the gasps a decade ago. Tonight it was leering catcalls followed with"Fuck yeah, stud", "What a fucking body on that kid!", "Hey kid, what you packin' under that singlet?", "I want a taste of that", "I'll wrestle you anytime kid"....
"All right you morons", Richard interrupted. "Can we have some respect for this young man? He literally was the champion of the entire province in 2013. Do you know how much skill and dedication that takes?"
Playfully, Beast stood up and said while toasting me with the scotch in his hand, "Congratulations young man. That is an amazing accomplishment. Richard, and the rest of us couldn't be more proud". Setting his drink down, he began to rub his jock covered crotch, "But I have something that needs some immediate skill and dedication. Get over here boy."
Not knowing if this was "it", I looked over to Richard and he gave me a nod that suggested `yes, I think we're starting.'
End of Chapter 11