Chronicle of My Sessions With Dad: Session One, Chapter One
Session Date: Wednesday, April 21st, 1999
Dear Dad,
To go back to the very beginning..., I responded to your Internet ad for several reasons.
1. You said you were in my town for a few days.
2. You said you were a dad looking for an obedient, submissive son whom you could control.
3. You wanted to administer corporal punishment in a variety of ways.
4. You said you were the "executive type".
With all of those details staring me in the face, I had to email you immediately. We were talking on the phone less than an hour later and in that conversation, you said something which put everything in place for me. You told me that you and I would "bond through pain". As my dad, you were going to inflict needed pain and humiliation on me because that was the best way to break me down so that you could rebuild my character. This agonizing process would be carried out with loving guidance and encouragement so I would always know that what you did to me was in my best interest. This made perfect sense to me. You seemed to have a method which would yield results and so we made a commitment to meet at my apartment the following evening.
We talked about various kinks we had and you encouraged me to speak candidly and not be shy. It was important for me to confess all the _s_e_x_ual secrets I had and, in time, you would know all about my _s_e_x_ life and what I liked to do. Did I have things to share with you now?
Yes. I mentioned that I had a fetish for nylon dress socks. Even though that is fairly odd or unusual, you understood and didn't embarrass me for it. You even gave me permission to buy you a pair of socks that you would wear while working me over.
I was to put on display any implements I had available which you would use on me. And before we ended the conversation, you told me I needed to write out a list of things I needed to confess to you-bad habits, character shortcomings, whatever I felt would help you in learning more about me and give a sense to both of us of just how much work you needed to do with me while you were in town. And I would give you this letter tomorrow night.
Before I went to sleep, I set out the few things I owned which would be useful for you in torturing me. I didn't have anything but household items; a belt, a wooden spoon, clothes pins, some ropes, a butt plug, a _d_i_l_d_o_. I put everything on the table and got started writing my essay.
The next night you came over and we chatted for a few minutes but really, for me, my new life as your son officially began when you said, "Come over here, Don." You patted the footstool in front of the chair you were in and said, "I want you to tell me that list of confessions I asked you to write."
And I began telling you about my secrets, how I need to be more organized, how I need to take my exercise/eating habits more seriously, how I masturbate too much. I went on and on and you listened, nodded, encouraged me to elaborate. You were never judgmental or mocking; you just noted that I had a lot of problems that you were going to help me correct. I felt like we had begun to bond already. I was thinking of you as my new authority figure, someone I could not keep secrets from or would want to try. And you were thinking of me as a basically good but wayward son who needed a large amount of correction in his life.
When I was all done, you looked me in the eyes and told me that we had a lot of work to do. It would take a long time, probably years. And as you traveled to my city a few times a year, you would be able to carry out long term discipline and be able to see the effects of it over time. You would devote this needed attention to me because you loved me and wanted only what was good for me. This was a theme which you would stress over and over again that night. That whatever you did to me was with the understanding that it was for my highest interest. It was good for me. You were not blindly torturing me because you were a sadistic meany. You were inflicting pain and humiliation so that I could learn and grow. To be the best that I could be. My red and sore body at the end of the night would be a statement of how far I had come. The redder my butt is, the sorer my nipples and balls are, the better it is for me. An ass with stripes and welts is better than a plain red one. An asshole that is sore from taking direct hits is better than one that isn't. A _c_o_c_k_ that has been smacked around is better than one that hasn't. You would be using _d_i_l_d_o_es, bondage, and a wide variety of humiliating practices on me. All of it meant that, in the end, I will have suffered and learned lessons from you which will benefit me for the rest of my life.
During the evening, you grew more and more sure that this was going to take longer than expected. Even though I was always a good boy about taking this sort of a "medicine", it became apparent to you that so many more sessions would be needed to fix my lifetime of bad habits.
Did I understand all of this? Yes, I did. You made a very clear argument for this "therapy" that I would undergo.
Your plan was to beat me, spank me, torture me, degrade me because it was what I needed to be a better person. It would be a long, slow process that would be beneficial to both of us. We needed to get started right away and you asked me point blank if I was ready to commit to this course of therapy.
When I said yes, it was an unstated permission for you to do to me whatever you needed to achieve results.
First thing you made me do was undress. You didn't say to remove my socks so I left them on which I found to be a turn on. I had on brown long socks that went almost to my knees. I will always remember them as the socks I wore during the five hours you punished me that night.
You made me remove your shoes and socks and then lick your sweaty feet clean.
That was so freaky for me because I had known you for maybe half an hour and here I was licking your feet. You had worked with clients all day in these socks and shoes building up sweat and now your feet were receiving a tongue massage from your son. I felt so many different things. Yes, there was humiliation (just as you had forewarned) but there was also a profound sense of wanting you to be pleased. I wanted you to be relaxed and happy. My tongue on your feet was our first real contact after our initial handshaking. That seemed like quite a leap to me. How many people welcome a man into his home on the night that they first meet and then suck the sweat from his toes within an hour of meeting him?
Did this make me a freak because I didn't tell you no? Nobody had ever put me in a position like this before. I looked up at you for reassurance that this was going to be all right, that it was what needed to be done and you looked down at me on the floor flat on my belly and smiled slightly. You nodded a little and said, "That's a good boy. Make sure you get between every toe."
That casual encouragement sent a wave of love and pleasure all through me. You were showing me the way.
"That's right. Lick it all off."
I wanted to look at your feet and I wanted to look up at your face. Your face told me that I was doing well; I was pleasing you. Your face told me that you thought that we were going to work out well together.
Soon you put me in a position where you could spank my ass while I worked on your feet. You used my belt and the spoon that I set out and hit me as I did my best to clean your feet. You hit me lightly and also heavily. Slowly and quickly. Sometimes I was flat on the floor, sometimes I was kneeling with my ass up and head down on your feet. You said, "Son, you have to learn that all the things we're going to do together, we do because you need it."
You hit my ass, my balls, my asshole, whatever happened to meet the blows of the belt. I groaned and moaned into your feet. "Yes, you need a lot of pain, son. You require a lot of humiliation. I can see that very plainly. Daddy's here now. He's going to give you what you need." As you beat me, you talked to me. You had a prescription for me that we needed to follow. "I'm going to see to it that your ass is very sore tomorrow. You need to be beaten down, don't you?"
"Yes, Daddy. Yes, sir."
"That's right. And why do I need to beat you?"
"So that I can be a better person."
"Very good, Donny. And because I care for you. I wouldn't do this if I didn't care about you, son."
All the while you're hitting me. As I make eye contact with you I see that you take this work very seriously. It is important for me and my growth. You tell me that the work we do together here will build a strong foundation for my future life. Our relationship is fundamental to my well being and long hours of punishment is what I can expect from my Daddy. The beatings you give me now and in the future are my fault because I had gotten myself so messed up. It would take this sort of extreme measures to correct my behavior.
After a while you stopped hitting me and put clothes pins on my balls and on my tits and then put me back to work on your feet. You beat me with my thin belt and the spoon. You hit the backs of my thighs, my balls, my ass, my back - anywhere you wanted. All I could do was grovel at your feet as I lay flat on the floor pressing into the clothes pins which made them pinch even more.
You had convinced me that my pain was our goal. So because the idea was for me to feel pain, I gave in to my situation. I didn't try to lift up my nipples from the floor but just lay there and let my weight press the clothes pins harder.
And the spanking went on. There were whacks everywhere you could reach.
When the time came, you let me up and took the clothes pins off. You kind of twisted them off causing a whole new level of hurt in doing so. And finally, you brought me to you for a big hug as I had taken our first beating very well. Your comforting words made me glow on the inside the way my ass glowed on the outside.
Now that your feet were clean, I was to put your new socks on your feet and we would work the rest of the night to get them sweaty so that after we were done for the night, I could keep them and smell them and remember our first session. They would be a comfort to me at night as I snuggled next to them on my pillow. They would be a connection between the two of us.
But before that time, we had a lot of work to do to get them warm and damp. You would need to exert yourself punishing me. So I put the long black socks on your feet adjusting them properly around the heel and at the top so they were straight.
It was now time to remove your pants and shirt which I did after you stood up and put me on my knees. I hung them up and then you had me pull down your boxers using just my teeth. All around you I went, pulling on them, bringing them down over your hard _c_o_c_k_ until they dropped on the floor.
My next job was to lick the sweat from your crotch and get you all cleaned up. You told me to get your balls clean, your belly, your _c_o_c_k_, all the cracks and crevices. For a while, I licked you as you stood in front of me but soon you lay back on the sofa and spread your legs for me.
I will always remember that as you put me to work licking the sweat from your crotch, you did not rush me. You did not direct me toward your ass. You just said, "That's right. That's good. Clean me up. Everywhere." You let me discover all on my own that putting my tongue on your asshole would bond us together to help me through the upcoming punishment. And this is coming from someone who isn't at all interested in scat. But I eventually learned that licking your ass and putting my tongue into your asshole helped me to connect with you. I wasn't very good at getting in deep but you said we would work on that periodically during the evening. There were different positions to use and different methods of motivation you would administer and I shouldn't worry now about not getting too deeply inside.
It was something we would work at.
End of Session One, Chapter One
Don's email: donald_1961@yahoo. com
Dad's email: dadjack41@yahoo. com