He Called Me Son, I Called Him Dad

Sometimes, you get to participate in somebody else's fantasy.

Like when I visited a man in the nearby suburban town with the big mall.

I had answered his ad on craigslist, on Tuesday or Wednesday, and he wanted me to call him.  The ad was fairly short, and wasn't exactly what I normally look for (I'm a crossdresser), but it was intriguing because he was the right age, and  mentioned bad behavior, discipline consequences, and shame and remorse.  So when I was alone on Thursday evening, I called him, using the cloaking to keep my cell number anonymous.  He had a very deep voice, and was in his early fifties he said.  Right away, he called me son.  I called him Dad.  This was what he wanted.

He interviewed me.  So, I wanted to be spanked.  Yes, I felt very naughty and needed a spanking.  When was the last time I was spanked?  A year ago, I said.  Who spanked you?  A man I met online.  Where?  His place.  It was clear this guy wasn't into the crossdressing thing at all, so I left that out.  I basically made adjustments to a scenario where I was caught ************, scolded, and spanked, then gave the man a *******, and he then jerked me off to climax while standing in front of him, and he was spanking me while it happened.  I had to cut it short so he asked me to call him again the next night.

 I did, and we made a date for Saturday.  I was to call him at noon for instructions.  Again, he stressed that turn offs for him were openly gay and girly boys.  He asked if I was hairy.  Was there hair on my bottom?  Yes.  Good.  Hairy legs?  Yes.  Good. He asked my height and weight.  Small ****?  Yes. He obviously wanted a regular heterosexual "son" to discipline.

 Saturday morning I tried to get some work done but was nervous.  I spent a fair amount of time playing with myself.  It had been two weeks since my last ***********, so I was pretty ... let's make that very very horny.  I looked at some freetube videos, and read some spanking and crossdressing stories.  I edged, but of course I didn't *********.  I rehearsed, too, because I'm so used to playing as Orlana that I needed to get back to playing straight, so to speak.

 By the time I had a quick lunch of cereal and peaches, and got a shower and dressed in my shorts, socks and sneakers, and plaid button down shortsleeve shirt, tucked in, and got out to the car, it was 12:15.  I knew I was supposed to call him at noon.  Maybe I was late on purpose. I put my earpiece in and called Dad.

 "Hello son,"  he said.  "How long will it take to get to the parking lot on the west end of the mall," he asked.  "15 minutes," I answered.  

 He said he'd take a shower and meet me there at 12:30, which was our agreed time.

 It was summer, so due to thunderstorms there was a tree down on the road, so I had to go around, but I did get to the rendezvous at about 12:30.  His black Buick was already there.  We both got out.

 He was heavyset, an inch or so taller than me, graying, with a close cut beard.  Wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and sandals.  We looked at each other.  He said, "Well what do you think?"  I said, "What do you think?"  He said, "You look like you've been a bad boy."  I blushed and nodded.  He said, "You know what  happens to bad boys who disobey Daddy?"  I said yes.  He looked at me again, and said, "Okay, follow me."  He instructed me to park in front of his house, not in the driveway.  I followed him, it was only about 15 minutes.  It was a small one-story house, typical of the neighborhoods on that side of town.

 He opened the door to let me in.  He pointed toward a hallway.  He led the way, and let me into a bedroom, and closed the door after us.  It was cooler there, a small bedroom with an air conditioner running, a large bed, made with a bedspread, and a low dresser alongside the wall next to the bed, with a large mirror above it.  He didn't waste any time.  He went to the foot of the bed and kicked his sandals off.  He told me to go stand in the corner opposite the foot of the bed.  I did.  I really felt like a bad, ashamed boy.

 "Pull down your shorts," he said.  I pulled them down a little.  "To your ankles."  I pushed my shorts down again, until the elastic waistband was at my knees, then let them fall to my ankles.  "Pull down your underpants too," he said.  I slid them down and let them fall to my ankles.  

 "Now put your nose in that corner."

For a long time he stood at the foot of his bed and looked at me.  I was nervous.  Uneasy.  After all, I was standing with my pants and underpants down, and he was looking at me, standing in the corner, in a humiliating, submissive position.  He was looking at my bare bottom, I figured.  I peeked back at him every now and then.  Finally, he began to talk in his deep voice.

You were supposed to call me at noon, weren't you son?"

"Yes Dad."

"So what happened?"  

 I looked back at him.  Big belly, knit shirt with a collar, untucked, long loose drab green shorts, black leather sandals with socks.  He was unsmiling, still standing by the foot of the bed, about 6 or 7 feet behind me.

"I don't know.  I was getting ready.  I had a few things I had to do."

"So what's your excuse?"

"I figured I could still be here by 12:30."

 "That's not an excuse for not calling."

 "But I called.  I didn't not call."

 "You know what I mean, now this is just disrespectful back talk, son."

 "I'm sorry."

 "So you're 15 minutes late calling your dad, and you have no excuse at all?"

"No sir."

 "No Dad."

 "No Dad."

"You know you're going to be punished?"
 
"Yes Dad."

 When he said "punished" I felt a surge of emotion in my center, nervous energy.  

"You're a bad boy and you're going to get a spanking," he said.

 "Yes Dad," I said.

 The bed creaked slightly as he sat down.

"Come over here," he said.  I turned and went to him, mincing my steps because I still had my underpants and shorts around my ankles.  I was selfconscious about my penis, exposed and bobbing as I walked.  It was swelling a little because he was scolding me and I knew I was getting a spanking.

I stood looking at him, he was looking slightly upward at me because he was sitting.  He looked me up and down.  He remained stern and serious, and so did I.  Well, contrite and serious.

"Come on, then, get over my knees for your punishment," he said.  He put a hand on my hip, guiding me, and then on my back as I bent over his lap and rested my weight on his knees.  My chest and head were on the bed.  When I looked to my right, I could see him reflected in that big mirror on the low dresser next to the bed.  

As soon as I was settled, he touched my bottom, then began spanking me. 

I was right to left over his knees, so he was spanking me with his right hand.  

As he spanked, I moaned into his bedspread, telling him I was sorry.  He scolded me, telling me I was a bad boy and needed to be spanked and humiliated, that I had to listen and behave.  When I looked into the mirror to my right I could see his hand swinging, and my red face, and him, and his face intent on punishing me.  There were also things on the dresser, some of which made me shiver and moan a little more as he continued to spank.

His spanks, so far, were medium although he was a heavy and powerfully built man.  After a while he told me to stand up.  I slid back off his knees and stood in front of him.  My penis, not erect but starting to gorge with blood, stood out a little, plump now, no longer shriveled into my pubic thatch.

"Your punishment isn't over yet," he said, looking me in the eye.  "There on the dresser is some lube, get that and bring it to me."

I stepped out from between his knees and moved, still mincing with my pants and underpants around my ankles, over to the dresser and picked up the little clear plastic squeeze bottle, which was laying on a small white towel.  It had blue writing on it, and was the clear water soluble lubricant, the KY brand.  I brought it to him and he took it and lay it next to him on the bed.

"Son, assume the position.  Get back over my knees," he said.  I started to lay over his lap again, but he stopped me.  "Take your pants the rest of the way off first, son."  I kicked my shorts off.  "Your underpants, too."  I lifted my left leg free, then set it back down and stepped out of my white underpants.  Dad nodded, and pushed my back, and I again went over his lap.

 He started spanking me again.  His spanks on my bare bottom made me feel ashamed, and now with my pants and underpants all the way off, I could move and squirm a little more.  On the bed I turned my head back and forth, muttering "sorry Daddy," now and again as he spanked me.

 "You know when you misbehave you have to be punished like this," Dad said in his deep voice, "and humiliated."

 "Yes Dad," I said.

He stopped spanking me, and I could hear and feel him moving, picking up the little plastic bottle.  

Dad adjusted me on his lap, so that I was laying over just his left leg, and he pushed my legs apart a little with his hands, and with his right leg he held my left leg back, so now I was splayed a little on his right thigh.  He hand-spanked me again, harder now, and repeatedly, and I moaned and moved on his lap, and I let my legs spread a little more.

"I'm sorry Dad," I said.  He stopped spanking me and a moment later I heard the squish noise as he squirted a little lube.  I felt the cold lube on my *** crack, his fingers spreading it up and down, and then directly on my anus.

 "You should he sorry," he said as his fingers slid, slippery with lube, between my cheeks.  I moaned when his fingertips touched the lips of my anus.

 Then, one fingertip poked against my hole, and he slid it inside.

 I breathed out all of my air and then gasped as his finger slided into me, then back out.  He slid his finger up and down my crack again, then slid it into my anus again.  I was squirming and moaning...

"Oh Daddy," I said.  "I'm so ashamed."

"I have to humiliate you, son," he said, sliding in and out of my ***, "When you misbehave."

"Yes, Dad," I said.  "I'm sorry Dad."

 For four or five minutes, while he scolded me and I moaned and squirmed and apologized, he finger ****** me and rubbed my anus.  It felt so good to have his finger sliding into me.  It was really very loose and sliding freely in and out of my ***.  Finally he stopped and told me to get up.  This time he stood up too.  

He was squirting more clear lubricant on his hand as he asked me;

"Did you get an erection while I was spanking you, son?" 

 "Yes sir," I said, my eyes lowered.  My penis was hard, sticking straight out but not up, at it's normally erect length of 4 inches or so.

"That's wrong, too son, you know that?"  

"Yes Dad, I'm so ashamed, Dad."  He reached out and took my penis in his hand, and with his lubed fingers started stroking me, and I moaned and squirmed and felt it getting harder and stiffer in his hand.

 He looked at me and I looked at him, as I was getting harder, my little 4-inch **** sticking out, twitching in his hand as he stroked it, getting a little longer and starting to stand straight up.

 His other hand, his right, reached for my left hand, and moved it.  I was a little surprised.  He put my hand on his crotch, through his shorts.  Now I first noticed that they were soft sweatpants type shorts, and I felt his **** and balls through the soft cloth.  It felt like a large package, and his **** was already swelling.  I felt it and squeezed, and his **** got harder and started poking out against his shorts.  He stopped stroking me for a moment, and pulled his sweats down quickly, and then I was stroking his **** and his big balls in its nest of curly brown pubic hair.  He didn't have underpants on.  His **** was thick and short, maybe a little longer than mine but really fat, and didn't come out much more as I stroked it.

This was all a surprise, because his Craigslist ad had indicated that it was unlikely that I would even see Dad's ****.  He kept stroking me with the lube, and I kept stroking him, standing there in front of each other, kind of at 45 degrees.  

Then, he stopped and said;  "Okay now, I want you to lie on the bed, facing down, with your head on the pillow up there.  Take your shirt off first."

Wondering where this was going, I continued to play the (now) obedient son.

 "Yes, Dad," I said as I unbuttoned and took off my shirt, and hung it on the hook on the back of his bedroom door.  "Should I take my sneakers off?" 

 "No, Son, just get on the bed."  He looked a little irritated at my questions, and I must have hesitated, because he suddenly got angry, his face scary as he looked at me shaking his head.  Quickly and roughly grabbed my hips and turned me to face the bed.  He spanked me, hard, standing there, one, two, three, four times, alternating between my left bottom cheek, and the right, five, six, seven.  Then pointing at the bed, he said, "Just listen and do as you're told."

I whimpered a little at the sudden power of his anger.  As he spanked me, I fell forward so I was leaning on my hands on the foot of the bed.  I climbed onto the bed and lay face down with my head on the pillow, my socks and sneakers still on.

"Put your legs together."  I put my legs together, and he climbed onto the bed next to me.  I heard him squeezing the lube bottle again, and he spread lube between my bottom cheeks and between my thighs.  Then, he climbed on top of me and lay on me.

 I felt his hard **** slide between my thighs, and he began humping me, sliding it between my lubed thighs, sometimes I think between my lubed buttocks too.

He was ******* my legs, and my clenched buttocks.  It was a sort of safe way to do it. I liked it.  He started talking to me, telling me what to say.

 "You're a bad boy.  I have to humiliate you, like this, and by spanking you and fingering your bottom.  You know I have to punish you?"

 "Yes Dad."

"Yes Dad, I'm sorry Dad," he said.

"I'm sorry Dad.  Yes Dad."

I moaned and turned my head back and forth, and moved my bottom and wiggled as he continued to thrust his **** between my lubricated thighs.  And I kept muttering, in my soft, bad-boy whine;

"I'm so ashamed, Daddy," and "I'm sorry Dad."  and "This is so embarrasing, so humiliating, Dad," and "Please, Dad, I'm sorry Dad, Oh Daddy."  I could tell he liked the talk.  I'm not sure how I could tell, maybe his body language as he got more excited, as his humping increased in intensity, as his little moans and grunts grew stronger.

And finally, I felt him spurt.  He moaned a little and spurted his warm ***** all over my thighs and my bottom and the lower part of my back too.  After he was done he lay there very briefly, then climbed off of me and I lay there with my head turned and watched him pick up that white towel off the dresser and wipe off his **** and his big belly which had ***** and lube on it.  He leaned over and gave my buttocks and thighs a quick towelling too.

"Ok, son, now get dressed.  You can go now.  And think about what happens, about how you behave and what happens when you're a bad boy."

"Yes Dad."  He watched as I put my shirt back on, and then my underpants and shorts.  He left the bedroom, and was standing, still naked from the waist down, holding the front door open for me.  He gave me quick directions for getting out of his neighborhood, and I left.

 
Orlana Orlana
56-60, T
2 Responses Jan 13, 2013

WOW!!!! I better not tell my wife about Craigslist. Fantastic experience. I could see it all happening before my very eyes!!!

one fck off powerfull story i can relate to most of your story as a spankee iv just reseaved one last wed an otk then a canning between my cheeks i loved every minuit of it

yes it sure did but i enjoyed every minuit of the canning
the only down side was it wasnt long enough i was upset when it finished
and he didnt do it hard enough it stung all right but he was worried about hurting
me to much with it being our first time to gether as school headmaster and
schl gurl pupil [yes i dressed up for him] that was his requirment

yes it was a full schl girl uniform

yes it was full schl girl uniform
anyway I wore a straw boater hat, royal blue blazer, royal blue cardigan,
white shirt with blue and white striped tie, white knee high sox, a royal blue pleated schl rap round mini skirt, and under it I wore white summer schl knickers to finish.
for the canning he had me over the back of an armchair with my head on the seat pad and my legs spread wide open giving him a clear shot with the cane right between my *** cheeks as my *** was on top of the arm chair back just above his hip level iv just acquired a nice whippy 47 inch long horse training crop for him to use on his next visit hopefully some time near the end of sep 14
david