**DADDY'S VISITATION	RIGHTS** by BILLY WOLFE
 Uploaded by MASTER G. from "SOMETHING ELSE" (617)-288-5616 1200 BAUD
     Leather, S/M, W/S,	Uniforms are all on "SOMETHING ELSE" BBS.
 
"I guess I thought all men slugged while they fucked," Patsy said.
 We  were sitting in her kitchen, our feet propped up on a potbelly stove.
Outside	the window, it was raining down	like hell, as it usually
did in that small, Pacific Northwest town. I had been transferred there	from
San Francisco by the lumber company I worked for. Being	something of a city
clone ,	I had little in	common with the	redneck	factory	workers	who just
liked to brag about fucking pussy and lynching queers. I was pretty lonely.
I was very horney.
 I'd struck up a casual	friendship with	Patsy, my next door neighbor.
small, plump and lily white, she looked	like one of those naked
nymphs you see in religious oil	paintings, luscious grapes usually
dangling from the pelvis. I found nothing luscious about Patsy's pelvis.
At 33, she was nearly ten years	my senior. In fact, I was closer in age	to
her 15-year-old	son, Bobby.
 She looked down pensively at the letter in her	lap, written by	Bobby's
father.	It arrived that	morning
 "Can you believe this asshole?" She asked me. "He hasn't even seen bobby
in almost ten years. Now, out of the blue, he wants his	son to come stay
with him next month when he'll be visiting Seattle. "Send Money!" That's
what I'll have Bobby write back	to him-	forget this visit crap.	Don't
Bogart that joint, Gil." Angrily, she reached out for the joint	I'd almost
forgotten I was	holding. She shook the envelope	in the futile hope of
shaking	out some money but instead a small color Polaroid plunked out
into her lap.
 "Here's the fucker, in	living color," She said, disinterestedly handing
it over	to me. That's when my interest began soaring: What an incredible
hunk!
 Though	I was chummy with Patsy, small town gays keep their personal
lives well tucked under	their hats. So I limited my response to	an invol-
untary gulp and	just took in the sight of the man: brawny, about six-feet
four, with the girth of	a red-wood and a straggly, raven beard.
Dressed	in levis and a flannel shirt, He boasted a pair	of arms	and
hands that looked capable of lifting the Golden	Gate Bridge.
The only part of him that looked vulnerable was	his eyes-looking out
in question, in	hope. I	felt an	immediate, profound attraction.
Reluctantly, I handed the photo	back to	Patsy
 "What's he like?" I asked, casually. "In a word? Sadistic! You	want
another	word? How about	Homosexual?" I stopped swallowing.
"Are those two reasons enough for a mother to want to keep her son
away from his dad?" She	handed me the shrinking	joint. " I was such
a jerk when I married him. I mean, I knew what he was like. Not	the
"gay" thing of course, but hell, I was carrying	his kid-I'd been
slapped	around enough times by him at that point. I should have
known better, but that's what I'm saying-I honestly think I thought
all men	punched	while they screwed. He never did it any	other way. The
only other man I had to	go on was my dad and he	used to	beet up	my mum.
what did I know? Took me three years to	get the	bastard	to seek	therapy
with me. Finally, he agrees- Takes him three weeks of counseling to
find out he's gay.Talk about shock. I mean, I guess I knew he hated
women, but how was I to	know he	wanted men? He didn't even know-not
consciously, at	least."course, I should've suspected it, with his
boot fetish and	all his	muscle magazines. Hell,	he wouldn't even
fuck without those boots on! are you getting off?"
 The question startled me. She was talking about the grass, now. I
blinked	several	times, emerging	from the daze. My eyes kept roaming
back to	the polaroid she'd tossed aside. "What's the matter? You
look shocked," she said, with a	smile. "I thought you city people
were unshakable." I managed a nonchalant smile of my own."I'm sorry
to be going off	on such	a tangent," she	apologized, "but this letter
just pisses me off- brings it all back,	you know? I've got a theory
about it.Sounds	like a bunch of	hippie-shit, but the way I see it,
Duke used to cut down trees eight hours	a day. That's cutting down a
lot of karma, you know what I'm	saying?	Those trees took centuries to
grow and when someone just-" She sliced	her pudgy hand through the air
"whamo!	cuts through it- they're taking	on a lot of-something...I don't
know, I'm stoned. But I	mean, I	could understand a lot of Duke's ten-
sion when he'd come home out of	the forest. In fact, to	be honest with
you, I would've	stuck it out with him if he'd asked. Duke was very
magnetic...masculine, and -well, you and I are close enough-I can tell
you: He	had a cock on him I swear could've made	medical	journals."
She laughed, then rocked, almost off her chair.	I was rocking, too.
"spoiled me for	life!" Then sighting, regained composure, She added,
"course, You wouldn't know about those things."
  My mind was racing. I	spoke carefully, "So- where exactly is he?"
 "Now? Lives in	some town in Oregon, His is Malone. Duke Malone." Speak-
ing his	name made her sigh again. "feel	kinda sorry for	him, actually
Far as I know he's never been in love, never had any long-term relat-
ionship	with anybody. I	was good to him, too.
But how	long can a person go on	being degraded and slapped around
just because they're horny, y'know? For	duke the two went hand in hand
that is	one sick man. Who knows? There's gotta be somebody for everyone
  I was	hard, walking out of Patsy's house. I couldn't stop thinking
about him, couldn't forget the hurt in his tough-guy eyes, and the
thought	that he	was never going	to enjoy a reunion with	his boy.
I stripped before the mirror and studied my reflection.	I was boyish
looking	for 23,	fairly smooth. Of course, I couldn't pass for 15. My
chest was to developed for one thing. My hand went up to my nipple and
I closed my eyes and saw Duke Malone, standing there, in the picture.
 When I	walked into the	Hilton lobby, I	was trembling. My pace quick-
ened toward the	main desk. Room	1919, I	wrote him a small note.
      Dad:
	   I'm in the lounge wearing a black baseball cap.
						    SON
 I think the clerk could hear my heart beating,	as I wrote the note.
 Two hours passed, and I was into my second tall scotch	when I felt a
thump on my shoulder, that could cause a bruise, I was almost drunk.
Well, the picture had come to life. He was so fucking hot, I gasped
Only those hopeful, vulnerable eyes were now intense, smoldering and
intimidating. He placed	my note	on the bar. "is	this yours?" "YES sir",
I said,	truley frightened. What	if he had decked me right here in the
lounge?
 "what's the joke?" he asked, not only angry, but hurting. It was
apparent. So much for even fantasizing I could've passed for his Bobby
Two women looked up at us from the bar.	His chest was heaving. He was
wearing	a short	sleeve sports shirt. His bludgeoning forarms were
carpeted with fur. I could smell him. I	lowered	my voice. "please, Sir
can we talk at a table?"
 Even his chin had muscles. It sort of flexed, bludged,	then relaxed.
He stood back and I descended the bar stool, thankfully	landing	on both
shaky feet. We wandered	into the darkest corner	of the lounge.
 "Do you know my son?" he asked	me,sharply. Everything about him- his
voice, his hands his glare-loomed as weapons. Even his mouth-cruel,
massive, like a	sensuous scar threatening to reopen and	draw blood.
 I spoke quickly."yes, I'm a friend of Bobby's mother...she doesn't
know I'm here, nobody knows. Honest. Sh-She got	your letter when I was
there, and she showed me your picture and told me a little about you,
and-" He was glaring hard. "I knew I belonged here," I said quickly.
The glare was replaced by a look of suspicion and I added," - with You
Sir," and after	a deep breath"-Dad."
 "Bobby's not coming," he said.	"No, Sir, they went to the coast for
Mother's Day, Sir."
 He looked down	and toyed with a matchbox in the ashtray, "And let me
get this straight: Nobody knows	you are	here." "That's correct,	Sir. I
apologize for my audashitty, Shir," I slurred then gulped on my	fear.
 He noticed my anxiety.	"and, so-" he was still	putting	it all together
"You thought you could fill my son's shoes. Is that it?" "If I were
luckily, Sir." The cocktail waitress was approaching for drink orders
but he gave her	such a dismissing scowl	she pivoted and	went scurrying
back to	the bar. There was a silence, and then he said,	eyeing me,
"What exactly did she tell you that made you do	this?" I gulped	again
I'm from California. I used to live in San-"  "Save your autobiography
for the	Dating Game. I asked you a question.".....
 "I desperately	need a dad, Sir. Not just any dad, Sir,	but one	with
your-disposition." His eyebrows	raised,	in questions. "You don't
even know me. She doesn't even know me.	so how can you?" He was
emanating a powerful vibration that was	burning	across the table.
 "Instinct, Sir. A strong instinct, and	a powerful need." "What's
your name?" he then asked. "GIL, Sir." "Twenty-two? Twenty -Three?"
"Yes, Sir, Twenty-three, Sir." His teeth were gritted; he nodded, then
unexpectedly, almost in	a plea,	he asked, "You like baseball Boy?"
"Yes, Sir, Very	Much S-Sir." "I	got a couple of	tickets	for this eve-
ning." My mouth	began watering I could almost taste the	Foot-long ball-
park hot dog. "It will give a chance to	get acquainted,	You and	me,
lets go."
 Inside	the room he made a couple of business phone calls. while
he was talking to his partner I	heard his fingers snap.	He was point-
ing to his Big Logging Boots. I	hurried	to him and began unstring the
laces, but the toe, angrily kicked me in the gut, I feel backwards
He then	held the rough leather up to my	lips. He didn't	have to	verb-
alize. I started licking those size 13 sweatiest lumberman boots all
over. I	made those boot	as clean as my dry mouth could do it..
Next he	rubbed his man cock, half hard in those	faded jeans, again
I jumped to get	what I thought he wanted, again	I was slapped back.
He picked up a half-smoked cigar and put the nasty thing in my mouth
while he finished his business call. After, he was done	he stood up from
the end	of the bed and grasped me by my	hair, dragging me to the bath-
room, I	still had the cigar in my mouth, He bend my neck over the
stool and forced me to drop the	cigar in the pot. "I have better things
for that mouth,	Slave Boy." He said. "Get those	Jeans off. FAST."
I must have broke at least two world's records pulling those tight
pants off.  There I stood in just my white cotton boy briefs, and tee
shirt, still tasting that horrible old cigar. when he pushed me	into
the bathtub, Lucky I grabbed for the curtain, and it held me from fall-
ing on my ass. he un-zipped his	pants,and to my	Surprise started piss-
ing all	over my	shorts,	very careful not to hit	my shirt. The Hot piss
ran down my shacking skinny boy	legs, down the drain, and felt warm
on my semi-hard	cock, I	felt silly but owned that moment was great.
He snapped his fingers for me to come nearer. He showed	me the moist
end of his cigar, a globe of spit hugging the tip. "See	that's how I
like it." "Go ahead- put it in your mouth. Taste how I like it."
He put it in my	mouth for me. I	looked up at him, admiringly. He
He snarled, then laughed, and slapped me lightly across	the cheek.
I got down on my knees and struck a match to light his cigar for him.
He did not move	except to inhale. Then he stuck	the toe	of his boot
under my piss wet balls	and began lifting me, by the crotch, on	his
boot. Once I was standing he pushed me back on the bed,	and ripped
the wet	undershorts off	and teased me with them. "I guess you haven't
shaved." he said. I looked down	at myself, shamefully. "No, Sir-not
there, Sir." He	mimicked me, mercilessly. "Duh!	No, Thir, Not Thir...
Not where, Asshole?" "Not around my dick, Sir."	He stood. I held my
breath.	He touched his wide black belt.	His shadow moved over me. He
reached	down and started tugging quite forcefully on my	balls. "Not
around your prick?" "Nouch, Sir, No Sir!" He yanked some hair out of
my nuts. Then he grabbed me by the hair	around my cock.	"Not around
your little boy	slave pisser?" "No, Sir, Please	Sir!" My dick was
rising fast. "Well," he	said, noticing it, "I'd	say you	look old enough
to start shaving, boy. Does Daddy have to show you?" It	was the	first
time he	had used the word, DADDY. I fell to the	floor at his boots and
almost wept over them. He grabbed me by	the cock and lead me to	the
bathroom. He directed me to keep my head down to the tile floor	and my
ass raised in the air. I couldn't see anything,	but it felt luxurious,
first getting my asshole soaked	in warm	water and then lathered	in
shaving	cream. "That ass is raised like	it's had some practice,	boy."
He smacked it. "Huh?" "Some...Sir." "Some," he said, skeptically. later
my face	still against the tile,	my back	tiring,	he added, "I'll	say one
thing: I've got	a nice little ass here." His forefinger	wiggled	in my
into wanting hole. It was tight	for my daddy, He looked	pleased.
with the other hand he slapped my white	boy bun's. "Feel good boy?"
"Yes, Sir thank	you, Sir." He told me to go shower and get dressed for
the baseball game.
 We didn't talk	to much	at the game, or	on the drive. Afterwards we had
a light	dinner,	and a little conversation. Back	at the room he said,
"It's nine-o'clock. Your bedtime boy, "Say your	prayers." I walked to
the bed	as he muttered,	under his breath, "You'll need em." Naked, I
knelt at the foot of the double	bed, and prayed-quickly, that daddy
would like me and keep me around. When I ended he said "Get in bed boy
now." He was still fully dressed. He reached over and stuffed a
handkerchief in	my mouth stretching the	skin around my lips. "That's
to help	you," he said in a low voice. "If you scream you are in	real
trouble	boy." He then took a pair of handcuffs and locked them around
the back of the	bed post. He started to	rub the	area he	had shaved
before we went out earlier. His	breathing was intensifying. A change
was happening, in the dark. I heard his	belt buckle tingle as he
removed	his pants, and take the	belt out. "First thing is to teach
boy, never to try and fool daddy again." He rolled me over, and	with
the very little	light coming from a crack under	the bathroom door,
he first rubbed	my smooth ass, and then	started	whipping me with the
belt. I	bite into the gag, trying not to scream	out as he slapped my
Boy butt, with hard strokes. "Do you understand	why I must punish you
and need to spank your butt, Boy?" I nodded into the pillow with a tear
running	down my	cheek. "Now we will see	how good a boy you are." the
belt whirred in	the air	again. My thoughts flashed back	to when	dad
belted me as a kid. As fast as the belting at come, it stopped,	and
I felt his hand	playing	with the crack of my ass, it was sore with
those belt swats, but he was fingering my hole and it was much better
than the whipping. I felt his cock push	at the hole and	with a very
easy pace he began to make love	to his boy. I was high on the weight
of daddy on my back his	man cock going in and out, of my hungry	butt.
 "Good boy,"  he said "That's all now. He gently removed the cuffs
and pulled out the gag.	than the phone rang. I heard him talking to
his partner, "Oh yea!, the trips going great, Me, and my boy should
be traveling back late tomorrow, yea, he will be living	with his
dad for	awhile"	I was a	very happy...Boy