A Daddy for Benito by Joe Satoria

1. BENITO

THREE MONTHS LATER

THURSDAY

All aboard the train wreck of my life.

People say, if everyone around you is the problem, maybe you’re the problem.

I refused to believe that. I refused to believe I was the problem with my obnoxious landlord, or the noisy students I shared the flat with, or all my failed relationships—some of them, I was the problem, but not in all of them.

Three months ago, I ruined one of the best friendships I ever had. A friendship where I wasn’t the problem, until I showed up and became the problem. It was typical for me to be called a problem, but only because I had no problem speaking my mind.

It took two months before Alexi responded to any of my messages on the forum, LittlesBoysAndToys. It was a nice surprise, and all it took was two weeks of talking before I decided to uproot my entire life. Uprooting like a small plant pots you keep in your bedroom. I barely had a life here. London was too big, I loved a big city, but sometimes, I had to surrender the inner size queen. Moving to Manchester was that for me.

I had one friend there, but Alexi made it clear I wouldn’t be allowed to stay with him, and I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. He was with Warren, and he was my ex. We didn’t get along, not only did we not mesh, but we both wanted different things. Alexi seemed to fit the bill for everything Warren wanted, and sure, I was jealous of that. Who wouldn’t be jealous; the two of them were perfect.

I had a little money saved in the bank, and I’d exchanged pictures for extra cushion. I needed the money more than they did, they were all older men; they had lived a full life, and they were willing to pay for pictures of me dressed in my Sailor Moon outfits and the French maid, popular again since it was trending on social media.

I did what I had to, and I needed the money. I needed to escape, and I had to do it before the end of the month. I hadn’t told my landlord I was leaving, and I was already late with the rent. That was my savings—it had to come from somewhere. Basically, I was flat broke, and the only work I liked doing was on my back.

I’d posted to the forum about the move, everyone there was supportive and nice, but nobody had anywhere for me to stay. I didn’t mind, I just wanted to know if anyone had a pull-out bed for me to stay on, or something so I could get myself sorted. I wasn’t asking for the world, I was just asking for a couple of nights—I would pay too; not hotel prices, but a little money. It wasn’t like I was asking for a handout. But a handout would help.

Staring at my phone, scrolling through everything. I laid in bed.

I had several men in my messages.

PicklePick: Noticed the post about you relocating. Are you looking for someone to come pick you up? I can drive you if you’re looking to exchange in service.

His account was bare. It was the second message just like it. The account didn’t have any images shared and they rarely interacted on any forum threads; only to ask for direct messages.

BrattyBoy69: Do you have any pics?

PicklePick: <<user has deactivated>>

That was code for blocked.

There was no shame in asking for pictures. Men asked me for them all the time, it didn’t mean I had to give them. I did if they were paying, but that was a different thread.

I wasn’t asking for much in my post, just somewhere to stay for a couple nights while I got on my feet and started my life in a new city. It wasn’t a major issue, in fact, I thought people would jump at the opportunity to help, especially after seeing my pictures. Who wouldn’t want me in their flat wearing my costumes?

DaddyH: Bratty?

BrattyBoy69: Hi, that’s me.

DaddyH: I think we’ve met.

BrattyBoy69: Doubt it.

DaddyH: No, we have met. Your pictures look familiar. Do you have any with your face?

Rolling my eyes at the response. They always wanted something, if it weren’t a hand job in their car, it was a picture they could add to their wank bank, and I never let any pictures of my face be taken. They could have all the pictures in the world of my freshly shaved cock and balls, and the waxed hole, but they weren’t getting my face—not unless I knew them, and definitely not me naked.

In the minute of looking through his account, I knew he was new. The account was created a week ago. I chuckled. This could have been any guy I blocked or been blocked by in the last few weeks—and that didn’t narrow the number at all.

BrattyBoy69: In your dreams, probably. That’s where most men see me.

DaddyH: No, I’m being serious. I’ve been coming to the site for a few weeks hoping I’d see you, and from some of the pictures you have—it looks very familiar.

BrattyBoy69: Please, form a queue. You and everyone else.

DaddyH: Three months ago, Manchester. You said you’d ruin me for everyone else.

Oh. That did sound like me. In fact, I had said that to so many people, it didn’t narrow it at all.

BrattyBoy69: Yeah, like I said, get in line, there’s loads of guys waiting.

DaddyH: Don’t you remember?

BrattyBoy69: Do you have any pictures?

And cue the blocking.

DaddyH: What of?

That was a surprise.

BrattyBoy69: That thing between your legs, if it has a brain.

DaddyH: <<photo attached>>

Sputtering. I shot up in the bed.

His cock. Laid across the back of his hand. Not huge, but thick. His head peeking out of his foreskin. I could remember that anywhere.

My cock twitched inside my shorts. Even my cock remembered him.

DaddyH: Remember?

BrattyBoy69: So, you’re a daddy now?

DaddyH: I don’t really remember you playing little either.

DaddyH: So, why didn’t you call me?

BrattyBoy69: I remember you. You didn’t stay the night.

DaddyH: Well, why don’t I make it up to you.

BrattyBoy69: I’ll send you my bank detail.

DaddyH: Better. You can stay at mine when you come to Manchester.

BrattyBoy69: What’s the catch?

DaddyH: You wear that outfit again.

BrattyBoy69: French maid? You tore that. I don’t have it anymore.

I lied, but I wasn’t going to tell him.

DaddyH: And whatever else you think I’d like. I told you I was looking for fun, and you didn’t call me.

He didn’t sound like a Daddy at all. He came across as a little whiney.

BrattyBoy69: Did you read my entire post?

DaddyH: You’re looking for somewhere to stay while you find somewhere to live. Yeah, I read it. And then I went on your profile and saw all those pictures. I would never forget those legs. You’re what, six-one?

BrattyBoy69: Six-one! How did you know?

Maybe it was a lucky guess.

DaddyH: A Daddy knows.

DaddyH: When are you coming up? I need someone to take care of this load I’ve had busting for nearly a week.

I didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, he was offering me a place to stay, and on the other hand, he was asking me to have sex with him. I didn’t mind, that was the entire reason I posted it on this forum. I wanted to find someone who’d be willing to take me in for a couple days, but Bratty it was in my handle. I wasn’t going down on anyone without a little bit of a fight.

BrattyBoy69: I’ll take care of you when you take care of me.

DaddyH: If you want that, I’m gonna need a name. I can’t be calling you “bratty boy”.

BrattyBoy69: That’s what you’re signing up for.

DaddyH:. Then you’ll address me as Daddy.

BrattyBoy69: We’ll see.

DaddyH: I’ll send you my address. Your post says you’re moving this week.

BrattyBoy69: I’ll need a key, and I’ll need to be picked up from the train station.

I sighed, laying back. Giddy with a smile stretched across my face.

I had a small list of demands, especially if someone was trying to make me call them Daddy. Didn’t they know, a Daddy had to pay for the privilege, and I was expensive as fuck.