Chapter 8 The Curse of Troy Fletcher
Includes leather, domination and humiliation... Average reading time: 15 minutes.
The story of Troy's 9th son (happily) became longer and more involved than planned so I split it into three chapters. The lead-up is definitely worth it but if you're only here for fisting then head on to chapter 10.
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Life continued but more fucked up than ever before. Now 8 sons had been affected by the curse and turned 21. However, Troy knew that it could only get worse from here. The curse was getting stronger and more twisted with age, and now Joel - the boy he had raised since birth - was just 6 months from turning 21.
The thought of Joel coming of age haunted Troy. Before the curse he had never wanted kids but on the fateful day that bitch witch Maggie had made him sterile his priorities shifted. The knowledge he couldn't have children suddenly meant being a father was the most important thing in the world to him. He'd immediately rushed to the sperm bank and begged them for his last fertile load. Joel was the happy result.
But now? His most precious gift in the world was in danger of being affected by the curse. Things were getting very close: there were only two sons left to find out of the ten that Maggie called out. Although no-one knew who the 9th would be, the entire family except Troy was betting good money on Joel being the 10th. After all, he had been the last son born of Troy's spunk.
Joel had grown up to be a slight 20-year old. He was handsome in a wistful way and took more after his birth mother than his Dad. Whilst he shared his father's caring outlook, the constant background of wonton sex that accompanied his teenage years had hardly kept him pure or wholesome. Neither did he believe his father's attitude to life was always right. For too long he had witnessed his Dad being taken advantage of by his half-brothers in the most demeaning and humiliating ways. Surely Troy could have show a bit more backbone at times and not be such a walkover?!
Now he felt more confused than ever though. All the abuse he had seen his father suffer over the years had turned his mind. Troy was no longer just his father, he was also permanently enshrined in Joel's head as a sexual object to lust after. It had been an insidious creep but impossible to avoid. Seeing your hot muscle bear father being gang-banged - a regular occurrence in the Fletcher household - would change your morals soon enough too! Especially when you're a teenager and your balls are on a hair trigger.
It didn't help that Joel seemed to be the only son who hadn't inherited his father's dark looks, muscles and big swinging dick. Why was he the only one left out? He was jealous of his brothers and wanted what he didn't have. Somehow, that made him lust after his father even more.
Joel knew that the curse affecting him was inevitable and did his best to prepare himself. He'd gone over it countless times in his head. If he was going to be inexorably and sexually tied to his father then they should just get it over with and fuck now, right? Surely doing it before the curse fucked them up would make it easier when it finally did hit them? They'd have a strong foundation to build on... and who knows, they might even enjoy themselves.
Troy definitely didn't see it that way. He believed if there was even the slightest chance of the curse passing Joel by then they should cling to hope dearly. Whilst the curse forced his other sons upon him on a daily basis, having sex with Joel would be crossing the rubicon. Joel was the one beacon of innocence he had left! No matter how many times Troy had ended up completely trashed, Joel had always been there to help pick up the pieces. He'd woken up too many times to find his body wrecked but his heart mended by the teenager spooning him, the boy's head cradled on his big, hairy chest. He needed Joel's pure love and tenderness, and by god he was going to hold onto that with all the energy he had!
However, there was another deep reason why Troy didn't want to sleep with Joel. For the last few months a vision of a man had filled Troy's head and his mind simply would not let it go.
When the visions had begun Troy only had the vaguest sense of an individual - simple hints of a face and not much else. But the more Troy obsessed the clearer the image became, almost as if the vision was rewarding him for spending so much time chasing it.
Troy knew it had to be something to do with the curse, after all, he'd never had visions like this before his cursed eldest son had walked into life. Troy also knew that it was wrong to think about the young man in the vision quite so much. Surely the man had to be one of his cursed sons, and surely the more he fixated the more power it gave the curse to corrupt and fuck up their lives? He couldn't help himself though.
Up till now Troy would never have considered himself a leather man. The idea of wearing a second skin and dressing up in gear or getting involved in all those complicated fetishes had never appealed. He'd always just relied on his muscles and pelt of fur to be his costume and his giant dick to be his fetish! However, so many years of being the family's sex bitch had changed him forever. It had hot-wired him in so many different ways. And seeing the man in the vision was like being triggered.
The vision was of a handsome yet stern man, sure of himself even though he was young. He looked strong and fit with a defined but not ripped torso. Troy could never see the rest of the man's body as it was always covered in leather. Leather that the man wore it as if he was born to it. It looked so comfortable and natural on his body. The heavy engineering boots, figure hugging jeans, chest harness and bar vest that both revealed and so deliciously hid his body... Even the details - Muir cap, bicep bands and leather gloves - seemed to be a complete part of him.
Troy couldn't help being drawn to him. Often as not he would get lost in his thoughts and then come crashing back to reality as he felt a giant wet patch of precum oozing over his crotch. He hadn't leaked like this in years, what the fuck was wrong with him?! For once he was glad his cock had been locked up by Owen all those years ago... if it wasn't he'd be hard all the time!
But in the last week or so the vision had expanded. The man was the same but a sense of place started to emerge too. Somewhere dark and mysterious. Seedy maybe, full of easy sex and hard fetishes. A neon sign saying `The Anvil'. He couldn't make out any more than that, but somehow the vision felt so real that he could even smell the place if he tried hard enough: tobacco, ass and poppers. The man remained elusive though, just a sense of warm leather and sweat.
He couldn't hold himself back.
The neon sign in the vision he managed to track down via the internet to a famous leather bar that had gone out of business years ago. Closed down after too many police raids after reports of unseemly conduct. Soon he was down a rabbit hole, chasing rumour after rumour. Finally he had it, stumbling across the unlisted website of a new incarnation of the bar. He was shocked to see it was close: the new Anvil was in the grungy downtown of his nearest big city, just 50 miles away.
The bar's website was full of stern warnings about dress codes and strict fetish observance. It also said there were few hard rules except that nothing was off limits. This showed in the photos posted to the site, an intense gallery of men in leather socialising or taking full advantage of the dark rooms. The photos made Troy deeply horny or deeply freaked out but he kept on clicking until-- there! it was true! His vision wasn't a fantasy but a real, live man and there were photos to prove it. God damn!
In retrospect, it was a shame that Troy was too excited to notice the man in the photos didn't look anywhere near as gentle as the vision he carried in his head...
Troy knew he had to find this 9th son before the man found him. In fact, the more he thought about the idea the more he liked it. Too often he'd been on the back foot when meeting his sons for the first time and he believed that contributed to things being more fucked up than they needed to be. Like Owen for example, would he be such a fuck brute now if Troy hadn't rolled over and let his eldest fuck him the first time they met? If only he'd been stronger and better prepared things might have turned out different.
This was a chance for him to be in control. Yes, his 9th son looked serious - and seriously into fetish - but Troy desperately wanted to believe he could handle that if they got started right. First impressions would be vital - if he was stepping into this man's world he wanted to look as if he belonged.
He swung into action and returned to the store where he bought all of his training dildos. A favourite customer by now, the assistant was only too eager to help him look the part.
Everything was discussed. The merits of different leather jeans... tailored, low-rise or breech? The styles of harnesses and their different meanings... shoulder, bulldog or full-body? And then boots... how high and just how many buckles? Troy tried item after item and yet none of it felt quite right, as if it wasn't really him. He was about to give up in despair when he saw a rack of leather trousers he hadn't noticed before.
"Those?" said the assistant in surprise. "I thought with your toy collection they'd be the first thing you went for but all that talk of jeans and boots distracted me. Hun, let me go get you a pair. Your ass is going to look sensational!"
Till then the thought of wearing chaps hadn't even occurred to Troy. The man in his vision wasn't, so why should he? And the thought of having his ass hanging out in a public bar (even if it was a fetish bar) didn't appeal one jot. The assistant threw some good natured shade though. "Oh Troy! Just live a little will you? You've got the assets, show them off for god's sake! Here, team it with this and you'll be the perfect bear..." he said, throwing a leather jock to Troy to add to the outfit. "Now go! Try it before I chuck your ass out the store for good!"
Troy went to the dressing room with low expectations. He didn't know why he was even bothering. He pulled his clothes off for the umpteenth time and slipped the leather jock on his naked body. He was surprised at how the leather grabbed and lifted his butt. It felt good! And then there was the cut of the pouch. It did a great job of hiding his cock cage and making his junk look desirable. That made him feel good, more like a man again...
Starting to get excited, he pulled the chaps on and closed the big front buckle. Immediately he knew he'd found his missing link. This was him. The leather seemed to both intimately hug him and make him stand taller. Without thinking he ran his hands down his thighs to see how they felt. The leather was warm to touch already, and the tight cut made his muscles feel powerful and strong. This was good!
He admired his reflection. The open front framed his new leather bulge beautifully whilst the rear... Jesus! Troy had long been proud of his gym fit body, but this was something else! The contrast between the tight black leather and his naked ass looked amazing - the eye couldn't help be drawn to his perfectly rounded butt. Hell, even the hairs on his arse were elevated by association!
He left the fitting room to show the assistant. Just moments ago he would have died walking around half naked, but to him the chaps made it feel the most natural thing in the world. The assistant's jaw dropped. He had always known Troy had a good body - those muscle bear chops couldn't be hidden - but to see him in chaps? Woof!
The assistant excitedly handed Troy extra gear to try on there and then, often saying just how horny he thought they would look. And they did. Soon Troy had a leather vest that did for his upper body what the chaps did for his arse. The vest was cut narrowly at the back to emphasise his V-shaped body whilst cut wide at the front to slut frame his pecs and flat torso. (The assistant couldn't help but comment on just how hot Troy's big nipple rings and silver fur looked against the black leather!) Knee high engineering boots with two buckles completed the outfit.
Troy felt better than he'd done in a long, long time. He could hear the assistant saying how amazing he looked and just how horny his bulge and leather butt looked... all of that he tuned out though. As he felt the leather wrapped around his body he focused on two questions. Could he meet his 9th son wearing this? Could he level with him and not be put down by the curse? Hell yes!
Thanking the assistance for his help, he bought everything he was wearing and had them packed so he could hide them when he returned home. He then swung the next part of his plan into action: coming on to his other sons to tire them out so much that they wouldn't notice him slipping out. This was as tough as it sounded as most nights he was at the beck and fuck-call of his sons. However, early one Friday morning he put his ass and mouth on the line and really went for it. His put-upon slut energy soon got every brother going and they eagerly used him hard. Even so it was a close run thing and it took until late before every son was spent and sated. He rushed out the door, leathers in hand, driving off as fast as he could.
By now Troy was panicking, this was not the calm journey he had planned. He was meant to be spending this time grounding himself, not battling the evening traffic! Small doubts started creeping in... he was running so late that he should just abandon this crazy idea and go back home, right?
It was only the feel of his leathers that stopped him. He'd hurriedly changed in a secluded lay-by and as soon as he put them on he'd started feeling less anxious. The gear felt just as good as he remembered, he just hoped he looked as good - they'd been no time for him to shower or even freshen up before setting off. Troy dismissed the thought as he sped along the interstate... those fetish guys are all used to the smell of sex, right?
Troy could feel his nerves rising as he followed the interstate downtown. He reminded himself why he was doing all this: to meet his 9th son on his terms. That's why he had gone to all this trouble, why he wearing these expensive new clothes and why his body was aching from a day spent being used. All of it was going to be worth it. He just had to find his confidence and kick-off his relationship with this son in the right way...
`I can do this' he repeated to himself as he navigated the small downtown streets. The entire area had a real abandoned air to it - pot-holes, broken street lights, shuttered-up buildings. It was as if the city had entirely forgotten about the area - just what an underground leather bar that didn't want to draw attention to itself needed.
Troy found the right street and drove with all eyes till he saw the bar. Twice he had to switch back before seeing the discreet doorway entrance. There was no signage and he wouldn't have spotted it at all if he hadn't of seen a couple of guys in leather knocking on the door and being let in.
He drove on to the end of the street and parked. Not the best place to leave his pick-up, but...
He eagerly opened the car door and then it hit him: he didn't have any clothes to wear over his naked butt! The need to bring some hadn't even occurred to him, why would it? Goddamn! He was sure the jeans he'd worn leaving the house were too small to fit over his chaps, and he knew the chaps were so tight that nothing would fit under them. Fuck! However, nothing was going to stop him now, even if he had to crab walk with his arse hugging the buildings!
And so that's what he did. The broken street lights made it easier, and often he found he could walk reasonably normally if he was careful. However, the fully lit stretches and the near miss of almost seeing some passing hobos too late to hide meant his heart was racing when he approached the anonymous door. The sooner his bare ass was off the street and somewhere safe the better!
His arm was raised when the enormity of the moment suddenly hit him. He'd been so obsessed with finding his 9th son (who could be inside this club right now!) that he hadn't stopped to think what the fuck he was doing. He was standing outside a hardcore leather bar... how the fuck had he up ended up here? He was a regular guy, right? Sure, his sons might be fucked up, but it's not like he got dressed up in a gimp suit each weekend. Hang on, was that was he was going to find inside? He had no idea and the realisation worried him.
His anxiety suddenly spiralled as he thought the worse. Visions of everyone laughing at him and seeing right through his new leathers, even vanilla-shaming him! Christ, and he was going to have find his son amongst all that? Amongst the porn and the perverts, the fucking and the fetishes? He must be out of his mind!
Oh god. He had to break this cycle! He couldn't feel this way, not now! Not when he had come so far. He hammered the door with his fist, hoping the noise and blows to his hand would snap him out of it.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Eddie, the Anvil's bouncer, cursed with all his might. The reverberating sound had been a trigger for him all night: more fuckers arriving to piss him off. He'd been in a bad mood before his shift started and it had only got worse. He should be in the bar fucking up some hot leather sub, not standing watch and dealing with entitled club members, fetish tourists and cunts making fun of him! He'd almost lost it when some punk had laughed about body builders only being good for guarding doors and starting fights...
To be honest, Eddie had never been a people person. He'd tried telling the owner this when his friend had connected the two of them, but the guy simply didn't wanted to listen. He'd been let down at the last minute and finding guys that met the Anvil's standard was tough: everyone had to be greeted by full Langlitz, gloves, Muir cap and 18" boots.
Eddie had needed the cash and had the gear already, though he preferred his Vanson's to the Langlitz jacket the owner had thrown in as part payment for the gig... His 6' 5" body builder's frame needed seriously large sizes that could flex. This jacket? It was already feeling too fucking small and that was before he started a bulk cycle next week. The thought pissed him off: he'd been part paid with a uniform he wouldn't even be able to wear once the job was over.
Normally he'd take his anger and his leather horn out on an unsuspecting bottom, but there was no way he was hanging around after being on the door all night. He had some pride--
It was then he heard Troy hammering the door. The night was no longer young - Anvil customers arrived early to maximise their time playing - and Eddie had started checking out already. Who the fuck turned up this late? And tried to bring the entire neighbourhood down at the same fucking time?! He opened the door with undisguised hostility and contempt. Whoever was at the door could go fuck themselves!
Troy's heart immediately shrivelled. Silhouetted in front of him was a tower of leather radiating anger. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and underdressed.
Eddie though? He felt a sudden twitch of excitement at the silver muscle bear wilting in front of his eyes. And so obviously a leather virgin too! Maybe his evening was looking up!
"First time" said Eddie.
Troy nodded, knowing it was a statement and not a question. It wasn't just his first time at the Anvil, it was his first time seeing anyone in full leather. He hadn't been prepared for just how intimidating it could be. The thick layers and bronze heavy-duty fastenings glinted ominously in the dark light, all whilst the man's eyes bored down at him from underneath the peak of his cap. He couldn't help but feel he was being judged.
The silence was painful and Troy broke. "Yes... this is the Anvil, right? Would you believe I forget to bring some clothes to cover my chaps?"
Eddie let it hang before imperceptibly nodding. "I would... it's a classic rookie mistake. Guys only make it once." Eddie was finally enjoying himself.
Troy felt very small, not knowing how he was meant to reply. If the guy knew he had his arse hanging out then why didn't he let him inside?!
"Of course, some sluts do it deliberately. Standing around with their asses on display for the world to see, advertising their goods like the whores they are. Tell me, rookie... you're not a slut, are you?"
Troy spluttered that he was anything but, that he was just here--
"Shut it". He was cut off. "I'll be the judge of that. Now get in before I have you arrested for public indecency. I don't know what your game is, standing around half naked with your pig nipples and hole out, but I'm not liking it one bit!" He stood to one side and gestured for Troy to step inside.
Troy was in half a mind to make a run for it - what the fuck was this guy saying? - but he was transfixed by the stern leather giant. He walked into the darkness and the door swung closed behind him.
The entrance hall was quiet and dimly lit by the neon of the bar's logo, giving everything an ethereal glow. The walls were haphazardly covered with torn out cartoons - Tom of Finland, Etienne and the Hun. Jesus, was that a cartoon of a guy taking a-- he turned back at he sound of the door locking fast.
"Now let me take a proper look at you. And you better not be lying about being a slut!" demanded Eddie, starting to pat Troy's body down.
Troy did his best to stand impassively but he was finding it tough. His face reddened each time the 's' word was mentioned, but he wasn't here for sex, he was just here to find his son. There was no way he was a slut... was he? And surely there was no way he could be getting off on this, even though up close the man's power was palpable and the touch of his gloves and the smell of warm leather was making his dick swell--
"What the fuck is this?" demanded the bouncer. Oh fuck, thought Troy. Eddie had just found the hard metal cage that had kept Troy's dick locked up for so long. "Answer me, boy!"
Eddie was loving his job for the first time that night. This guy was hot and he was loving making him squirm! He listened to Troy desperately trying to explain away the chastity cage and laughed on the inside. This fresh meat would go down at the club very well.
"I don't know, boy... real men never let someone take control of their dick. The only guys I've meet who do have been sluts, and yet you keep on denying-- Jesus! Have you been fucked today?!" Eddie's heart soared as his thick fingers felt between Troy's muscular arse cheeks. Even through his leathered gloves he could feel just how slippery and juicy Troy's ass was. It could only be cum, and not just one load but many! His eagerly pushed upwards, feeling the edges of the muscle bear's messed up puss. "Christ, your hole has seen some work! You really are a slut!"
Troy's entire body flushed red as he felt the bouncer's fingers push against his hole-- oh god, this couldn't be happening to him. The pressure against his cunt lips was simply too great and his clutch too weak... If only he'd had time to shower and clean up but there hadn't. The bouncer had inadvertently opened him up and all the cum his sons had spent the day depositing inside him gushed out.
Eddie was a sick fuck. Others would have pulled their hand back in shock and revolt, but not Eddie. He just let it flow! Soon he could feel it overflowing his gloves and cascading down the bear's leather chaps. He sighed in disgusted admiration. "Man, you're fucked up!"
By now Troy's entire body was on fire. This was not meant to be how this evening went. He had to leave this place. He had to go... this had been a crazy idea. Why on earth did he think he could pull it off?! His 9th son would just have to wait. He tried to gabble an apology and desperately asked to leave, saying he needed to go home...
"With a hole as hungry as this?! No way! First you lie about being a slut and now you're lying about needing to be used... Why else would you be here? You just need to keep the fuck train going 24/7, right? Though god knows who would want to fuck a hole as wrecked as yours..."
Troy flustered and tried to get away from the bouncer. Eddie was having none of it, holding Troy back against a wall with his free hand.
"Ssh boy, you don't have to be upset, you can be your true yourself here. If you need more dick then you've found the right place... but I still need to punish you for lying to me. You should always tell the truth to your betters..."
The bouncer towered over Troy. What the fuck had Troy got himself into? He saw an evil smile before the world went dark and he felt wet leather on his face. Jesus! He nostrils were full of the rich smell of spunk. The bastard bouncer was slathering his face with cum from his own arse!
Eddie dismissively released the slut, wiping the last of the spunk across his chest. That should teach him! "There you go, bitch! Wear it well!" Eddie cackled as he pushed the fuckslop splattered newbie towards the bar. Maybe being a bouncer wasn't so bad after all?!
Troy stumbled down the corridor as if on autopilot. His face was drenched in second-hand cum and he could tell still more was oozing down his muscular legs. How could he find his son looking like this?
Next: Troy finally meets his 9th son and is opened up to a hole new world.
Comments and suggestions welcome at stuhadley77@gmail.com
My other stories:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-first-hand-school/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-reintegration-centre/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/urination/the-fist-academy https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-wish