The visitor He's not really my Dad but I do not know what else to call him. Although 'Master' would be too strong there is a natural power about him that makes me WANT to do whatever he says. He just takes control of me, naturally. Just looking at him makes me want to obey his every word, so I happily submit to his will. I obey, and he rewards me by hugging me and telling me I am a "good boy". His boy. He calls me 'boy' and I call him 'Dad'. I do not need him - just like I do not need my real father - and I live a normal adult life between his visits. But whenever he comes to see me and gives me a chance to be his boy and please him, I do my very best to obey him so he is proud of his boy. Tonight my Dad is coming to my place. 7.30pm I am already naked, waiting behind the door to answer immediately when he arrives. I hear a special knock on the door. Knock Knock-knock-knock-knock Knock-knock. 1 then 4 then 2: it's him. I welcome him as he taught me. I unlock the door but do not open it. I step back about 2 metres away from the door and drop on my knees, legs open, my arms in my back, looking at the floor. He then pushes the door himself and walks in. He closes the door and comes and stand in front of me. My head is still bent and I can only see his feet and legs. He slides a foot between my legs and plays with my balls. Already I feel under his power. He then ruffles my hair with his hand and kisses the top of my head. "Good evening, boy." "Good evening, Dad." He sits down on the couch and instructs me to come and stand in front of him with my hands on my head. He reaches for my nipples and gently squeezes them. He knows that it really excites me. He then squeezes more firmly and presses harder and harder looking at my face until I wince. He then smiles and I just love this smile. The contrast of my face showing pain and his face showing pleasure is something that really makes me feel proud to be his boy. I know I'll do anything to please him. He then pulls me to him and kisses me on the mouth pushing his tongue deep inside. "Why don't you go get me a beer, boy." "Yes, Dad. May I have one, too?" "No. I'll let you have a little of mine." "Yes, Dad." I fetch the beer. As I return he asks me about my life since we last met. I open and give him the beer and I kneel before him. He drinks a bit and lifts a shoe for me to remove. I pull the shoe and sock off and he lifts his other foot. Then, kneeling naked, I slowly massage and lick his feet. He finally stops me and thanks me for this. I'm a good boy. He offers me a drink of his beer. I sit on the floor beside him and rest my head on his thigh. He slowly runs his fingers through my hair. I feel completely under his power. I'm here for him. I'll do anything to make him happy. "Are you ready, boy?" I know what this means. My submission is going to be physically tested. He never ties me up and I am not even forced to accept anything. It is more like a game, a sort of challenge. How much pain can I take for him? Sometimes it is a lot, sometimes only a little. I do my best to take it for him, so he can be proud of his obedient boy, but some days I am just not so strong. He never complains. He understands and comforts me. He does not want to hurt me, he wants to test me. "Yes, Dad. I am ready." I never know how I am going to be tested. Sometimes he has me kneeling between his legs and he concentrates on my nipples, squeezing and pressing them, making them roll between his fingers and pulling them away from my chest. This can go on for as long as ten or fifteen minutes. It is sometimes hard for me but if I am in a day when I can take it for him then this is what I prefer because his face is right in front of mine and I can see in his eyes that he is proud of his obedient boy. Some other times he spanks me on his lap or bent over the sofa. I love it: it really feels like a Dad/boy relationship. I never try to hide my feelings because I know he likes to see my face react to his stimulation. When he sees me wince and hears me gasp and still not ask him to stop, then he knows my submission is real. It is not always easy for me but he encourages me with his warm voice: "Come on, boy. Hold on a bit more. You can do it. Take it for me. Take it for your Dad. Make your Dad proud of his boy." Sometimes I think that I am in control all the time because he only stops when I ask him to - and as soon as I ask him. Then comes the reward. He helps me up and have me sit on his lap. I cuddle against his shoulder and he wraps his strong arms around me. He kisses me and gently caresses my hyper-sensitive nipples. I then melt into the warmth and strength of his body. We stay like that a long, long time and then he finally allows me to suck him. He knows that this is what I like best. The only condition - but I love it - is that his sperm must end up either on my face or in my mouth. I do not know why but at that particular moment I like to feel like a dog. I know it probably sounds strange but I love it when I am on my hands and knees between his legs with my mouth wide open and my tongue sticking out and he comes all over my face. I love it when he comes in his hand and gives it to me to lick up like he would give a lump of sugar to a dog. One day I suggested he came in a saucer which I then placed on the floor between his feet and from which I slowly licked his semen while he ran his fingers through my hair. He was saying: "There's a good boy. Come on. Lick it all up. Slowly. All of it. That's it. Good boy." I have never felt so submissive than that day. One day I really felt strong and I decided I would take a lot of pain for him. When it started to really hurt tears began to roll from my eyes. I was crying but I did not ask him to stop. I wanted to take it all for him like a good boy and give him my tears so he could be real proud of me. When I finally asked him to stop I was sobbing. He pulled me in his arms and I cried and cried and cried while he was softly whispering in my ear. This was an extraordinary experience for me and I will no doubt make it happen again soon. A few weeks ago something happened that really tested my will to obey him. I was handing him a cup of coffee when I sneezed and spilled it on his lap. Not only did this stained his trousers but it also burnt him. He did not get angry but said that this could happen to anybody. That was the worst thing he could have said. I felt so bad that I dropped on my knees and kissed his feet, begging him to "please, punish me." He repeated that it was an accident and hat he was not angry. But this was not enough for me. I wanted to be punished. I wanted to do something that - at least in my eyes - would somehow erase what I had done to him. I felt I was not worthy of him any more. I went to my room and took out of a drawer the collar and the leash that I stored there when my dog died last year. I closed the collar around my neck and attached the leash to it. I went back to the main room, knelt in front of him and, as I presented him with the end of the leash, I said: "I am sorry, Dad. Please be angry with me. Please show me you care. Please punish me like I deserve. I need it." "You really want me to be angry with you, boy?" "Yes, Dad." I was feeling really low but I felt that feeling had to come from him, not from me. I needed him to humiliate me so he could forgive me afterwards. I told him. "Please, punish me. Please, humiliate me." He went to the bathroom and came back with two clothepins that he attached to my nipples. The pain was very strong and it made me gasp but I was so happy I could take it for him. He then instructed me to prostrate myself on the floor with my buttocks up in the air and my legs spread apart. He took his belt out of his trousers and gave me ten strong lashes. He stopped and I was stunned to hear my own voice say: "Please, more." He instructed me to use my hands to hold my ass cheeks opened. I opened them for him so he could access all parts of my body to punish me like I deserved. I was helping him hurt me and I was loving it. He gave me ten more lashes. My arse and legs were on fire and I was crying but these were tears of gratefulness. When he stopped I dutifully thanked him for his punishment but he said: "You're not finished, boy. Go to the bathroom." Once there he told me to lie on the floor. He took his dick out and started to piss on me. I looked at him towering over me and I felt proud that he cared about me. He directed the stream to my face, on my hair and in my mouth which I eagerly opened. When he was done pissing he started to masturbate and was soon coming all over my face. He then knelt by my side and took me in his arms. As I buried my head in his shoulder he quickly took the clothepins off my nipples. The blood rushing back caused a great pain and I started to cry again. My face was covered with his piss, his sperm and my tears but now I felt that I deserved to be back in his strong arms again. "Good boy." I was so happy it made me cry even more. I think I will ask him to do it again some time. * * * When he leaves I close the door behind him and resume my normal life. I know he'll be back. Maybe in two days, maybe in a month. I do not know when but I know he will. Whenever it is, I will be here for him. My life will not stop until that day, but I will definitely enjoy it when it comes. Whenever he wants it I will be his obedient boy.
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