6. Trent
Chapter 6
Trent
‘The boy’s got something about him,’ I chuckle, putting my Porsche in gear and pulling away from the Torros Tornados new training complex.
As I drive away, I’m already replaying the sight and sound of Mikey’s strong, round ass taking the full force of my spanks.
What made the whole thing even more appealing was the way Mikey’s cheeks were so perfectly framed by his bright-white jockstrap.
Seriously, there’s something about a fresh jock that makes any boy’s butt look an extra level of delicious – but Mikey’s ass was just insanely appealing.
I drive down the freeway and decide to make a quick pitstop at Dark Bean to have one final coffee for the day.
Unsurprisingly, there’s no sign of the cute barista or Ranger – and it wouldn’t take a genius to work out exactly what they’re up to right now either!
But as I take my seat with an iced, sea-salt infused maple latte, I let out a big sigh of satisfaction – and not just because I’ve managed to order such an elaborate and non-Daddy drink without being caught by my Daddy friends.
No, the truth is I’m still high from dishing out the full-on spanking to Mikey. The way the boy took my best and hardest spanking was like nothing I’d experienced before.
But it wasn’t just a case of me letting rip and hoping for the best.
The whole time, I was making sure that Mikey was able to handle it, and to my very pleasant surprise I could see that he was dealing with everything just fine.
Of course, that isn’t to say that my spanks weren’t pushing him close to the limit by the end, but there was a clear resilience and determination to take his punishment like a big boy that I really enjoyed seeing.
But a morning spanking is one thing, what I need to know now is whether me and Mikey have a possible future together.
The prospect of the spanking being a one and done situation is something that does not appeal to me at all. I know in my heart that there’s something else, something deeper, between me and Mikey but at the same time it’s still way too early to even be thinking along those lines.
I might want a deeper relationship, but that doesn’t just mean I can summon one at the click of my fingers. These things take time and work from both sides, and right now I barely know anything about Mikey let alone whether he’s long term boy material or not.
I’m not going to get hung up on that right now though, as I have a beautifully frivolous coffee to drink away from the judgmental eyes of my espresso-only Daddy friends.
As I’m sipping on my ice-cold coffee, I take my cell phone out of my pocket and see an email that sends me into something of a spin.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me…’ I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth as I see that for the first time in what must be seven or eight years, I’ve received an email from my Uncle Peter.
I lived with Uncle Peter and his girlfriend Clarissa for a couple of years in my teens and it was very much the case that we just butted heads for pretty much every single day over those two years.
It wasn’t that Uncle Peter was cruel or violent or anything like that, but he had such a stick up his ass. In the end, he decided that my rebellious ways were just too much for him and I ended up being passed on to another Uncle and Aunt across on the East Coast.
Since then, our contact has been sporadic emails and the occasional text at Thanksgiving or Christmas – and even those have dried up in recent years.
So to say I’m surprised to see his email is an understatement.
But before I can get too involved in my feelings, I know that I need to read what he has to say…
Dear Trent,
I hope life is treating you well. I’m emailing to say that my wife, Clarissa, died last month. I know that you and I never got on all that well – and we’re probably both responsible for that to some degree, although I take the most responsibility as I was the adult at the time – but I always remember you and Clarissa having a great relationship. Now, as per Clarissa’s instructions, she didn’t want a funeral. But she did request that I arrange a gathering where friends and family could celebrate her life. It would have meant the world to Clarissa for you to be there, so it’s only right that I get in touch and make the invitation to you. Please see the attachment for the logistics. Best regards, Uncle Peter.
I can’t quite believe what I’m reading. Uncle Peter is right, me and Clarissa did always get on pretty well – and it was certainly a welcome break from the endless lectures that Peter would give me.
I suppose it’s good to read that Peter is showing a degree of regret for how mine and his relationship played out too. That takes a lot, and I respect him for it.
But…
The prospect of going to a family event really isn’t something that appeals to me. I spent my life not fitting in with any of them, and some harsh words were exchanged fairly regularly over the years.
I’m so happy in my life now that I don’t know what I would gain by going to an event that might bring back a lot of pain and bad memories from my childhood.
It doesn’t feel like the right thing for me to do.
But on the other hand, it makes no sense to flat out refuse right now in the heat of the moment.
Even though I know that the answer will almost certainly still be no, I think the best move for me is to let the invitation sit there for a moment and then get back to Uncle Peter when I’m ready to make a clear, well-thought out decision.
‘Some coffee this turned out to be,’ I sigh, the enjoyment of my sea-salt extravaganza of a coffee disappearing into thin air.
I need something to cheer me up.
And it’s at times like these that there’s only one answer.
It’s time to grab my board, hit my favorite cove, and ride some gnarly waves.
‘You should have seen the waves,’ I say to Ranger as he hands me a cool beer. ‘Honestly, I might even be about to say the unsayable… I think Midnight Cove might be even better than Chase Cove right now.’
Ranger gasps and shakes his head.
‘ Noooooope ,’ Ranger says, holding his ground. ‘Chase Cove is the number one spot in Los Torros, and I won’t hear a single other word on the matter.’
‘We might have to agree to disagree on this one brother,’ I laugh, the pair of us toasting our beers.
We’re at an evening event at Morning Milk , the Little-friendly café that often runs fun party nights.
Reece is over in the corner giving his baby boy Xander some milk from a bottle and there are plenty of cute boys running and crawling around the play area in their onesies.
I haven’t spotted Mikey yet, but Xander mentioned that Mikey had said he was coming down once he was all showered and freshened up after work.
In the meantime, I think it’s way beyond due that I find out exactly what Ranger got up to with the barista from Dark Beans .
‘So… the barista boy,’ I say, a wicked smile on my face. ‘Are you going to spill the coffee beans or…’
‘Okay, first off: that’s a terrible pun,’ Ranger says. ‘And second… yes, I will spill the beans, but you might want to first turn around and check out the big bundle of baby boy that’s right behind you.’
With that, I turn and see a glorious sight.
Wearing a pale blue onesie and carrying his adorable seahorse stuffie, Mikey is looking very much like he needs a Daddy to play with.
‘What can I do for you?’ I say, smiling at Mikey and offering him my hand.
‘I want to play!’ Mikey says, his voice already a little bit regressed in line with his super-cute onesie. ‘There’s a stuffie train in the corner but some other Littles are playing with it thought.’
Mikey stomps his foot on the ground.
I think I need to put a stop to this kind of sass before I have one grumpy baby boy on my hands.
‘That’s quite enough, boy,’ I say, my voice firm. ‘It’s perfectly acceptable that other boys are playing with the train. And I won’t have you stomping your foot like that. But…’
‘Y-y-y-yes, Daddy?’ Mikey says, hope in his voice.
‘That doesn’t mean we can’t have plenty of fun together,’ I say, taking Mikey’s hand and walking over toward the pillow fort that looks like it needs a full-scale demolition and rebuild. ‘Now why don’t you show me how a Blue Collar Boy would build a proper pillow fort?’
‘Yay!’ Mikey replies, a look of glee on his face. ‘Atty can be the site manager, you can be the builder, and I’ll deliver the pillows to the site. Okay?’
I smile and show my approval.
I’ve never played second in command to a seahorse stuffie before, but I’m not about to start complaining. The look of sheer joy on Mikey’s face as he toddles around with pillows in his hand and brings them to me is worth its weight in gold.
‘Delivery finished!’ Mikey exclaims. ‘And Atty is telling me that I have to work with you now to build the new fort. Is that okay?’
‘Of course it is,’ I reply. ‘We’re going to build the best fort that Morning Milk has ever seen.’
As we get to work, I notice how much Mikey is enjoying stacking and arranging the pillows.
At the same time, I can’t help but run my eyes over his body – he might be all snug inside his onesie, but I can’t help imagining what he would look like if I unzipped him at the back and pulled the whole thing off.
‘Does my butt look cute?’ Mikey says, noticing my eyes wandering. ‘Here, watch me shake it!’
I laugh as Mikey does a cute dance. He’s so sweet and wholesome, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a naughty side too.
‘Hey, enough dancing,’ I say, glancing up toward Atty the seahorse. ‘I don’t think our boss approves of us slacking off. Let’s get back to work.’
Mikey smiles and we set about finishing the pillow fort.
I can’t remember a time that I felt so happy, and a big part of that is coming from the fact that Mikey is so clearly having a great time too.
I’m not saying he wouldn’t have had a good time here either way, but part of me feels like me stepping up and acting like a Daddy when Mikey appeared to be inches away from a tantrum has really helped him get the most out of the party.
And with the pillow fort nearly done, I can see that Mikey might be getting a bit tired.
It could be time for some hot milk and a nice snuggle-nap – and that’ll be on Daddy’s Orders…