A Daddy for Benito by Joe Satoria

2. HARRY

I hadn’t been laid in three months. Not because I didn’t want to, but because nobody was around that piqued my interests. I’d always been fascinated with men who liked to pretend, it got me off more times than I cared to count. And that night I spent with him, Benito Harlow, although I didn’t know his name at the time.

He said he was looking for someone to call Daddy.

I thought it was purely sexual, but he did things, made me feel things. Giving me those hickeys and asking if they would show for work. I told him they wouldn’t, and he went harder, all the way up my neck. It looked like I’d been in a fight.

He tried to get a rise out of me. It made sense, I found him a brat.

I only found out who he was after I left. I needed to shower, and I couldn’t put on dirty clothes after a shower. I had no choice but to leave. His face was familiar. He was my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, and they ended on horrible terms.

Sitting at my desk, looking over the spreadsheet on the monitor, I wondered why I was crazy about something that happened three months ago. And now, I was inviting him to live with me. His profile claimed it was only going to be for a week maximum.

I was on the verge of cumming any minute, from a tickle on the back of my neck. I didn’t really want to cum over anything. I’d been searching for him for weeks; I couldn’t get him out of my head. And then I saw the pictures, I saw him, and his post about Manchester. It was a sign. And as a data analyst, looking for signs was literally my job.

BrattyBoy69: I’m arriving on Saturday. Pick me up. We can discuss terms.

DaddyH: Terms?

BrattyBoy69: You’re inviting me to stay with you. We should have ground rules, at least.

DaddyH: So you can break them?

I was onto the game surrounding his name. Bratty.

DaddyH: I’ll think of some anyway.

He wasn’t going to be following any rules, but it would be nice to put them in place so he could break them. I’d been searching for something I could finally spend the pent-up energy on.

BrattyBoy69: And I’ll be honest with you, I don’t remember what you look like. But I do remember that cock. So, I’ll see you Saturday.

Perhaps he didn’t know I was Warren’s best friend. It had been three months ago, and I don’t believe we spoke all that much. I do remember him dressed in the maid outfit and he tried to play the role of housekeeping.

He had volunteered the information about having the costume.

Naturally, I needed to see him in it.

But he did an awful job at making the bed.

My cock grew thick in my trousers with excitement.

I shouldn’t be getting aroused in the office. I shouldn’t have even been talking to him, but there was only so much I could do when my day was spent staring at spreadsheets. I looked around at my colleagues, they were all busy. They only had one data analyst in the company, and that was me. I reported to the manager of the office, but other than that, I was just in charge of putting together the information from all the data—from the length of time people spent on projects, to how long it took them to handle queries. My job was all about finding what was effective, and what was ineffective.

In this moment, I was ineffective.

I had to save myself another two days until he arrived. I never even thought twice about him all those years ago when he was with Warren, but him now, I’d seen him on social media—not stalking—well, fine, a little. There was a level of addiction to the way he acted and the way I craved him to continue.

Benito Harlow, twenty-five years old. All his profiles said he was unemployed. His terms would probably have something about me paying him. I was willing to do that, but then again, there would have to be other terms in place.

He was a self-proclaimed brat, and I couldn’t say I’d had my share of them. But I knew what they were like, and I knew what he was going to be like, specifically with the way he was going to act.

I was almost thirty-three, and I’d been with all types of submissive men. They were my favourite. Submissive and breedable. Brats, on the other hand liked to be a challenge, there was foreplay in that.

At work, I lived a life of monotony. I went through collated data, sheet after sheet. I liked the idea of having Benito live with me, he’d break the cycle. I’d never done anything like it, but I desperately needed it.

BrattyBoy69: One more thing. I expect dick whenever I want.

He really was a brat. And I knew the picture I had sent to him was the tip of the iceberg as much as it was the tip of my cock. He was going to be the one begging. I would be his brat tamer, turning him into a doe-eyed sub.

DaddyH: You’ll get what I give you, and don’t forget to address me as Daddy—or Sir, if you want to play that.

BrattyBoy69: Ohh is that part of the terms, Daddy?

It was. And the wait until Saturday was going to be painful. I’d been thinking about Benito since that night three months ago. He probably hadn’t even thought twice about me until I sent him that picture of my cock.

Closing my eyes for a moment to reminisce.

Benito was tall, but I remember him dressed in the silky fabric of the maid’s outfit, and the way I asked him to make the bed. He didn’t look like he’d ever made a bed in his life—or he was really into being a brat. Refusing, and saying those two words I knew was a beg.

‘Make me.’

At my office desk, I let out a gentle moan.

Knocked back to reality as I played the moan off as a cough, stuck in the back of my throat. I patted a fist against my chest. Nobody was watching, but I had to play the moment up for anyone who was passing by.

On my phone, the screen up. He’d sent another message—a picture.

BrattyBoy69: I don’t mean to tease, but what do you think of this?

BrattyBoy69: <<image attached>>

A photo, taken in the mirror. It was the back of him. His long legs and pert ass cheeks, poking out beneath an oversized sweater.

His face wasn’t in the picture, but he didn’t have any of his pictures with his face in them. I knew what he looked like, and this was definitely him.

DaddyH: I’m adding to the terms. I choose what you wear.

If I did that, I knew he’d break it. I felt alive, for the first time in months. I’d bulked up some, but that only made my frame more muscular. I rolled my shoulders, stretching out against the light blue shirt, wondering if I might need to go up a size.

BrattyBoy69: You can choose, but it doesn’t mean I will.

And that was the bait. This was mutually beneficial. He’d get a place to stay, and I’d get someone to fuck around with for a little bit. I knew Benito wasn’t the type to settle, so I wasn’t even thinking about that.