Beware of Your Father!
The pub was full to the brim. I spotted him engaged in a conversation with a group of other older, stocky men near the other end of the room, from where I stood at the bar. The other men were of average height, while he was probably no more than 5'2" tall and weighed close to 300 pounds - a true 5x5 bear! And he was puffing on a massive cigar that would have made Winston Churchill proud. He seemed to be the center of attention for all the men surrounding him. Pretty much bald save for a trim of white hair and a Van Dyke beard, he was both handsome and adorable. His arms and chest were large and muscular, and his butt was impressively sizable; his gray shorts seemed to be hugging two basketballs. He was awe-inspiring. I already knew this before I'd even made my way to this dimly-lit, crowded bar.
We had been chatting online for a few months... I'd spotted a profile picture of him on Facebook and sent him a friend request. He accepted. I slowly uncovered that he was a well-respected international leather daddybear who resided in Chicago. More of a leather grandpa bear, really. He was the patriarch of a big family - his name was Sal. I wasn't sure what he saw in me at first, but we continued exchanging messages. Eventually, I realized Sal was into exceptionally tall and very well-endowed men.
And I most certainly fit the criteria at 6'4" and with a 9-inch, thick cock. And Sal had a penchant for sissies, but I wasn't one of those (yet) - as events would prove. However, I myself was captivated by the petite man and did want to be his sub. At the very least, I wanted to have a brief moment with the stout man.
Even though I stood 14 inches taller, I knew I was the sub.
We discussed a variety of topics - my job as a high school physical education teacher at one of the city's schools, his retirement after running his construction company and passing it on to his family. He told me he was delving into hypnosis, and I told him I was attempting to learn to play the mandolin. He said he might like to help me with that.
So, we ended each chat with him putting me under hypnosis. He was always smoking a big cigar when we video chatted and used it like a watch on a chain to get me into a deep, deep state. Sal would utter subliminal commands he claimed would make my workouts more fruitful and my recovery more swift. It all worked! My chest had become thicker and more muscular.
There I was, unsure if he even noticed me in the pub - quite a feat. The place was packed, and I'd lost sight of the stocky grandfather. I was about to make my way through the crowd to locate him when he pushed his way through the crowd, coming face-to-face with me. His big belly was leading the way. He deftly maneuvered his plump figure between me and two twinks, who were publicly displaying their passion nearby. Sal then proceeded to take a massive draw on his cigar and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. It was intoxicating to me, but the two boys wrinkled their noses in disgust. They quickly left their stools and dashed off to make out somewhere else. Sal let out a deep chuckle and blew another cloud of smoke after them. I was entranced.
"Jim Beam!" He ordered the bartender. Then, in a gradual motion, he turned his voluminous frame towards me, his formidable belly resting on my crotch. My cock was beginning to stiffen. Sal rubbed it with his giant, beach ball-like stomach, grinning up at me mischievously.
I gazed down at this short grandfather, who was looking up at me with a glint in his eye, and that big cigar in the corner of his mouth! After taking a big draw of the thick brown Cuban cigar, Sal exhaled his smoke directly into my face. I didn't cough - I wanted it! Sal took another draw of the stogie and did it again. And then one more time for good measure.
Then, with smoke billowing out of my body, Sal looked up at me and started questioning me in his deep, masculine voice.
"What's a little boy like you doing in a man's pub, Tiny?"
When he said the word, "tiny," the entire room spun. I found myself speaking in a submissive tone that did not sound like me.
"I... I came to learn..."
"Learn what, my kid?" Sal inquired, holding his stubby, rotund fingers in circles on my pecs while still puffing on his cigar.
I looked down at his cute, round, manly face, illuminated by the glowing red ember of his cigar. I was sweating profusely now, more excited than I'd ever been.
"To be your sissyboy...," I uneasily whispered out.
"Sal tilted his head as he chatted with a cigar in his mouth."
"You're already it, but I'm going to polish you up to be the ultimate obedient Sissy!"
Conclusion of section one
Read also:
- My Close Friend, a Female, Fondled Me
- A Stepmother's Varied Testimony: Volume 3
- Listening to Their Groans: The Complete Narrative
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
Source: www.nice-escort.de
