Chapter 8
The Black Room was located in a small house in the suburbs. The house sat on a full acre of land, completely shielded from the surrounding neighborhood by a series of trees and shrubs. Fletcher had looked at the house originally as an investment, but he had quickly seen its advantages as a secret hideaway. Doing most of the work himself, Fletcher had converted one basement room into a fair representation of a medieval dungeon -- at least how the movies had always portrayed such a room. Of course, Fletcher hadn't gathered all the equipment of a torture chamber, but then, Fletcher knew what he personally would be using and saw no sense in cluttering the area with nonessentials. He, therefore, had become content with a rack, several stocks and pillories, several workbenches, and various apparatus using pulley and chains. He had paddles he'd made and whips which he had picked up in Mexico. All in all, the place more than performed the function Fletcher had initially intended for it.
There was a two-way mirror, giving visual access to what was happening in the Black Room to anyone standing in a small closet on the other side of the wall. Fletcher was looking through the glass now, watching as Tyler affixed the last manacle to Cody's wrists and hoisted the blindfolded kid to a position that had his downward-pointing toes barely touching the floor.
Jesus, that's Cody! Fletcher said to himself. His son was the kid Tyler had been fucking around with, breaking into the bondage and discipline scene. Fletcher's son was the kid Tyler had proudly claimed had pulled in five-hundred dollars in one heavy night of hustling the streets. His son was gay, for Christ's sake! GAY!
How was it possible Cody had been gay all of this time, peddling his young ass on the streets, fucking up a storm with the same young blond stud his father fucked regularly, without Fletcher haying ever guessed? Had he and his son grown that far apart that they really knew so very little about each other?
Goddamn it, they were both gay! And Fletcher had been creeping around, scared as all hell that Cody might find out about Fletcher's real sexual preferences. He stood still for a moment, pondering his questions.
This all just seemed too good to be true. Fletcher had to be dreaming.
"What's this kid's name," Fletcher had asked Tyler, thinking maybe he had run into him on the streets. Fletcher had, on occasion, picked up several kids, although, in the final analysis, he always seemed to come back to Tyler.
"Cody," Tyler had said.
"Cody?"
"We're not into last names in this business," Tyler had reminded him, assuming Fletcher's echo had been a request for more information. "I don't think I ever even asked Cody's last name."
How many fucking kids were there in the world who were named Cody and who looked enough like Fletcher to be his son?
It was Cody. It was his son in there, stripped naked, exhibiting that same luscious hard-on, he had whipped to climax in the shower stall while Fletcher had watched through the opaque shower door. And Cody was in there, with his hard-on, waiting for some stranger to come in, beat his ass, fuck his young asshole. That stranger he was waiting for was his own father.
Tyler finished, crossed the room and exited. He walked to the door and opened it.
"Well?" Tyler asked. According to plan, he had brought Cody in, blindfolded him and hoisted him up, without revealing Fletcher's presence.
"It's my son," Fletcher said.
"You're sure?" Tyler asked, wanting verification. If Fletcher was finding all of this hard to believe, he had nothing on Tyler. Tyler found it mind-boggling that he had unknowing been fucking a father and son. What, was even more mind-blowing was that neither father nor son seemed to have known the other was gay.
"Cody. My son," Fletcher said. "My son."
Tyler watched Fletcher trying to decide whether he was sorry or glad to discover his son was the kid Tyler had so glowingly described as a homosexual stud. What convinced Tyler that Fletcher was glad was the obvious erection swelling the crotch of his pants.
"If this is such a surprise for you, imagine what it's going to be like when Cody finds put you're the bondage-discipline master I've been promising him."
"You didn't tell him about me, did you?"
"You mean about how you might be his father? Hell, no. You told me not to, didn't you? Besides, I didn't believe it could possibly turn out Cody was your kid."
"Well, it's true all right," Fletcher said. "Jesus, but it is true."
"So, where do we go from here?" Tyler asked.
"We go in there," Fletcher said, nodding toward the Black Room beyond the mirror. "And, we show my son a good time. That is what he came for, isn't it? You're not turned off by the thought of a little incest, are you?"
"Does this hard-on of mine look as if I've got any objections to your and Cody's incest?" Tyler asked, pointing to the bulge which began at the meeting of his thighs and extended in the form of a high ridge downward along his left thigh.
"Shall we dress suitably for the occasion?" Fletcher asked, fingering one of the several pieces of leather clothing hanging in the closet.
"How about some leather chaps so my cock and ass hang out?" Tyler suggested. "Never can tell when I might need the use of one or both of them. Right?"
"I think we might both do well to keep our cocks and asses available this evening," Fletcher said, searching for two pair of leather chaps. "How many fathers, after all, get a chance to fuck their sons and then get fucked by their sons in turn?"
"Did I tell you how glad I was to be sharing this family moment?"
"Your hard cock told me all I needed to know, remember?" Fletcher said and smiled.
They took their clothing into the outer room where they changed into the leather. Each wore chaps, a fringed leather vest and cowboy boots, complete with gold spurs.
Dressed, they headed for the door to the Black Room and for Cody who was still hanging naked (save for a blindfold) beyond the door.
"Did my son complain about the blindfold?" Fletcher asked, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.
"It made Cody a little nervous," Tyler admitted. "But, he knows by now he can trust me enough to believe me when I say he can trust you, too."
"Shall we get started, then?" Fletcher asked.
"Why not?"
Fletcher opened the door to the Black Room and they both went in.