Daddy Owns Us All
By SleepyShamrock
I inherited my place when an uncle whom I’ve never heard of passed away a few months ago. I’d been renting all my life, (I’m 32 years-old), and thought it would be nice to be free of that massive monthly bill. My ol’ uncle bought and paid for a roomy 2-bedroom apartment some time in the 50s, and had lived there ever since. When he died, most likely of old age, but to be perfectly honest, I have no idea, I was the only living heir. Besides a couple of thousand dollars in a saving account, the apartment was all he had.
The place is nice; spacious and more modern than I would have expected, with new appliances and some pretty nice furniture, and for the most part, I truly enjoy living in my new, fully-paid for apartment. The neighbors seem nice, although they keep to themselves mostly, and weirdly, they always seem as if they are in some sort of daze. I know it sounds weird, but they’re always smiling kind of lazily, and their eyes don’t seem to be focused on anything. They just wander through the halls, slowly smiling without a care in the world. Actually, the single drawback to the whole situation is Mr. Masters, my down-the-hall neighbor.
Masters, Danny, I think his name is…at least that’s what I thought I heard some of his many visitors call him…owns the entire building except for my uncle’s apartment…my apartment. The lawyer at the will-reading told me he might try and approach me to buy, so I’ve been avoiding him ever since moving in. I don’t want to sell! This is the first time I’ve ever owned a place of my own.
In my avoidance of Masters, I’ve had the occasion to watch, even study him a bit. He’s a bit older than me; probably in his fifties. He’s still fit, however, and not a bad looking man. He has blue eyes, wide shoulders, and a generally friendly way about him. He always had one of those vape pens with him, too, and there was always at least a little smoke drifting around him. I’m not a health nut or anything, but I do take care of myself. I have six-pack abs and go to the gym at least 4 times a week. I’ve never smoked, and can’t believe he does so indoors so frequently. It seemed a bit thoughtless, honestly.
I think he might be gay, or at least bisexual, because he has a new man over nearly every night. At first it didn’t seem odd, but I noticed all of his visitors were a bit younger than him—about my age—and all of them had that same look as the people who live in my building. They’re all ridiculously attractive, but their eyes all seem vacant…as if there isn’t a thought in their heads. I put it out of my head, though, because I figured I’d never have the chance to ask him about it if I was spending all my time avoiding the ol’ horn-dog.
I had fallen asleep on the couch watching an old movie when there was a persistent knock at my door. I looked at the time and it was past midnight. Who could be calling at this hour? I had been to the gym earlier, and after my shower only put on a sheer pair of running shorts. In my just-woken haze, I didn’t even think about it when I opened the door. Standing there in his bathroom, smiling a disarming smile was Masters…vape pen in his hand and all. I was about to raise my voice, asking what the hell he was doing rapping on my door at such a ridiculous hour when he handed me a neatly wrapped gift box.
“I never get the chance to see you during the day,” he said, thrusting the box into my hands. “One might think you’re avoiding me! Anyway, this is just a small ‘welcome to the building present.’” A bit confused at all that was happening so quickly, I fumbled to open it, and he put his hands on mine and said, “No, no…not yet. There’ll be time for that.” The vape pen in his hand puffed out a small cloud of smoke, followed by a long ribbon as he placed his hand on mine, and I thought this might be the perfect time to complain to him about his smoking indoors…but I didn’t. I didn’t have the chance, because he just kept talking. He kept droning on and on, and I figured I’d wait for him to stop before I spoke, as I didn’t want to be rude. As I waited, I just watched the ribbons of smoke from the end of his vape circling upwards…spiraling around and around…around and around. It was actually kind of relaxing to watch, and without realizing it, I stopped paying attention to what he was saying.
I knew he was talking, but all I could really hear were muffled words and the mellow, deep tone of his voice. I knew I should wait before mentioning the smoke; the swirling smoke going around and around. Pretty smoke. I wanted to tell him about the pretty smoke. How much I loved watching his smoke as he spoke to me. I’ve always admired his smoke as he would walk up and down the halls…and I loved to watch it…I loved to watch him. I watched him all the time, so I must love it. Wait, did I think that or did he just say it? It didn’t matter, I suppose. I shouldn’t think too hard about it. It would be rude not to listen deeply to Master as he spoke to me. I should listen deeply. I don’t want to be rude. Deeply. Even deeper.
Suddenly a large, fluffy cloud of smoke slowly flowed from the tip of his vape and covered my entire head. It surprised me a little, so I breathed deeply. So important to breathe deeply. The smoke smelled heavenly. It was heavy and sweet; it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. Did he say that? Did I think…? I think too much. It doesn’t matter. I’ve always thought too much, and that’s probably why I am always stressed. It’s so late, and I feel so relaxed with Master, I should just stop thinking so much…stop…thinking…so much…I should just…stop…thinking. It suddenly felt so good when I stopped thinking. I should have realized long ago, I don’t need to think. Master is here with me. I trust him. I trust Danny Masters…Dan…ny….Da..ddy…I…I trust Daddy.
Of course I trust Daddy. Daddy thinks for me. God I loved Daddy’s smoke. Daddy’s smoke is sleepy smoke. Sleepy smoke is sexy. It was as if it was all over my body now, like fingers rubbing up and down my chest…like soft lips on my neck…like a soft, welcome bulge in the back of my sheer shorts.
I don’t know when we moved to my couch, but I didn’t care. The entire apartment was filled with Daddy’s sleepy smoke and his voice was still dripping in my ear…his words covering my brain like warm honey making me so relaxed. Daddy is so relaxing. I love when Daddy thinks for me. I should always thank Daddy for thinking for me by doing whatever he says. It only makes sense. I realized this in the middle of a deep, deep, smoky kiss while Daddy’s big, strong hand stroked the rock-hard bulge in my sheer shorts. Daddy always makes me feel good…it was as if those words were spoken to me, but that couldn’t be it…it was just a fact…Daddy always makes me feel good, so I should always be a good boy for Daddy.
“I’m a good boy,” I said as our kiss broke, and he clouded my face in his sexy, sleepy smoke once more.
I don’t know when we moved to the bedroom. I also couldn’t remember opening the wonderful gift Daddy bought me—but I was wearing them, and they felt so good…so sexy…so right. The sheer black nylons stretched to their limit as my ridiculously hard cock throbbed inside them. Every time I’d take Daddy’s perfect cock into my throat, my own cock would throb again and again…harder…thicker…longer…the precum from the tip was leaking through the pores of the elastic fabric, and I felt as if I would burst at any second; but I am a good boy. I only cum when Daddy allows. Daddy always makes me feel good.
Suddenly I felt Daddy’s back arch and his body seize. His cock swelled up even larger and longer, sliding down my throat at least another inch before it pulsed massively and an ocean of Daddy’s sweet, perfect, milky hot cum emptied into my waiting mouth. He grabbed the back of my head because he is a loving Daddy and fucked my face for several moments before I was suddenly covered in his sexy, sleepy smoke once more and I heard his deep, deep voice echo in my empty mind: “Cum for me, Slave.” I remember cumming harder than I’d ever done before. I remember screaming “Daddy,” as my throat gargled his hypnotic cum…and then all went black.
The next day I was back in the office of the lawyer who signed over my uncle’s apartment to me. I told him to draw up the paperwork to transfer ownership to Mr. Danny Masters.
“I must admit, this is very odd,” he said. “Are you sure? This property carries substantial equity. Did this Masters fellow threaten you or something? Perhaps I should investigate a bit before making any of this official.” He reached for his office phone, but before he could get his receptionist to connect him to anyone, I had taken out the beautiful vape pen that Daddy gave me and pressed what Daddy called the ‘Magic Button.’
“Yes, Ms. Starling, I want you to…” his voice trailed off as the smoke from my vape swirled around his head. He breathed deeply and his eyes lost all focus…his voice trailed off as he completed his sentence. “I want…youuuu…to…can…cancelll…allll of my…mmm…appoinnntments tooodayyyy…”
“Certainly, sir,” she said. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine,” I said, startling Ms. Starling, a gorgeous woman who was at least 60 years old, but had the body of a woman decades younger…and she dressed and did her makeup to match her youthful appearance.
“Oh, my…” was the last thing she said before the cloud of Daddy’s sexy, sleepy smoke engulfed her head. Her features softened, and a sleepy smile appeared on her lips as she dropped the phone and slumped down into a deep, deep sleep. I went to the front door and locked it before picking up Ms. Starling’s phone to call Daddy. He was going to be so proud of me. I am such a good boy.