Dads Dungeon

This is a work of Fiction, and you must be 18 or older to read it. The Author, and host do not condone Underage Drinking.

The narrator alternates by chapter, with Character/Story Codes, so you can get multiple PoVs without resorting to 3rd Person Omniscient. Also, this one's got a soundtrack. The format is:

Artist - "Title" (Album/Remix)

- - -

Bradley Bourne (MFm NS Talk.)

I never worried about my son before I got a call from his school. I guess I should have, knowing he was driven, but instead I was proud of him. Winning a scholarship on his academic record alone, front runner for valedictorian without even a close second. All the most advanced classes the school could provide, and failing that, his record on the field could have won him a place on any college team.

Some might call that an over-achiever, and it wasn't about the money. I could easily afford tuition for anywhere, I even paid for his sister's schooling abroad, and pulled some strings to get her in, overseas. She's doing well enough in France, but not like Brody, the family genius. I don't know where he got his exceptional mind.

His rugged looks, his charm, and his tall broad shouldered frame, I can take credit for that, but even his mother's side of the family doesn't have any certifiable Genius. He could go to MIT, in fact he'd already been accepted, but this kind of thing on his record.

The principle told me what happened. "He attacked a female student." she said, her name, "Hildebrand Hoffman."

"Oh, they're going out."

"No," he gritted his teeth, and his hands trembled on the arms of the chair. "She broke up with me, and she wouldn't listen to reason!" Gripping them so tightly, the blood ran out of his fingers, and his spotless knuckles went white with the strain.

"That's no excuse for attacking her."

"I didn't attack her, is that what she told you, that I hit her?"

"In the halls," she shook her head. "There were witnesses. Are they all lying?"

"Listen, you control freak!"

"Brody." I stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders. "Calm down, don't make this worse. Relax." I can feel the tension, forming knots in the joint between his neck, and traps.

"There's no excuse for grabbing her in the halls, even if you didn't hit her. I have no choice but to suspend you, for the rest of the year."

"But that's not fair! I can't miss finals."

"Son. Son, relax. This isn't expulsion, or it won't go on your record as such, right? I'm sure she can find a way for you to pass the tests. Isn't that right, Ms. Proctor."

"Of course. There are ways that we can arrange for students to make up tests. Either after school, in detention hall, or the school will be open another week. You won't be failed regardless, and this has no bearing on your grades. You will still graduate, with honors depending on your final scores."

Sitting forward, leaning over her desk. "Now, I understand that you're under a lot of stress. I wasn't aware that you two were an item, and I must admit the faculty are a little out of touch with the student's relationships. However, Brody? They all look up to you, and as a role model, it's important that you don't set a bad example. You understand?"

"Yes, Miss Proctor." He relaxed, and took a deep breath. Let it out in a sigh, and finally the tension began to work out under my thumbs. He cracked his neck, and took another breath. "I'm sorry."

"You can clean out your lockers when you come in for your final exams. Get some rest, clear your head, and try to reconcile your problems with Hilda."

"I will, thanks."

"Go out, and cool off. Get some water or something, and try to stay out of trouble, while we talk about what we can do, to repair the damage."

He looked tired, and I sat down, while he slowly pulled the door after him.

"Thanks for that." She nodded, tight lipped. "And you don't have to worry about the foundation's generous contributions to the labs here. I know how important state run Polytechnic schools like this are, for all gifted students with an interest in science, and engineering."

"I'm not worried about the money, I'm worried about his state of mind. I don't know that he can handle the stress, and he might need a year off."

"What's your professional opinion, Doctor." She doesn't like Doctor Proctor for obvious reasons. Gifted students notwithstanding, they're still schoolkids, but she has impressive degrees in Child, and Adolescent psychology from Duke.

"I don't know, if the usual vacation in Europe is going to do it. He's strong, but that may be a problem in, and of itself. You saw how he reacted with fear of Failure. He's taking this breakup personally, and lashing out with verbal violence. As for the assault, it's not serious enough to warrant an arrest, or criminal charges. She turned her back on him, and he just grabbed her shoulder, but he overpowered her."

She paused, and looked serious, changing her tone to stress this: "Unfortunately, this is the kind of behavior that tends to escalate."

"You don't think he's capable of turning into a wife beater?"

"I don't know, but he's leaving in a week. After that, he's out of my hands, but you're concerned about him, too."

She can tell, very empathic. "Well, as you know, he is 18 now. Legally not a minor, and I have to admit, also sexually active." She nodded, but didn't try to hide her smile. Hinting at something else. Outside of her professional duties, but right here in her office. "I suppose, he could learn some Discipline. After school, I have a place I could send him." Getting up, "I'll give you a call."

After the Principal/Student relationship expires. She has a career to worry about too, but for his sake, I hope she's right. I don't know, I'm not the head shrinker, just an owner of several properties in multiple cities, but she knows the one.

She'll need time to change into her costume, anyway. Next week, hopefully it won't have to wait for graduation, but for now, I need a more immediate solution. "Go get the car." Bringing up contacts, while he jogs off for the parking lot, and speed-dial my Mistress.

"What do you want?"

"It's not for me, so you can cut the act."

"Oh, who?" She doesn't even hazard a guess, but she's worked for some of my executives as well.

"My son is having trouble in school, so he needs to be taught a lesson in Humility. Board room 3, in an hour." Click.

Not so much as a Yes, Sir. This isn't for me, it's for his future. I hope we're not too late.

- - -

Brandi (Ff NS Talk)

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I just wanted to touch base, and followup on the incident at lunch."

Taking my seat, "I don't want to get him in trouble, and I heard he was expelled?"

"No, merely suspended, so he could have some time to cool off. However, I have to say that we have noticed a dangerous influence, in our school. I wonder, have you perhaps heard of a book called 50 Shades of Grey?" (C) 2011 E. L. James, All Rights Reserved.

"Of course, everyone's talking about it, but I didn't bring any of them to school."

"So, you've read it."

"Mhm? All of them."

"What did you think?"

"Well, from a literary standpoint, they're pretty badly written. I must say that I wasn't impressed with the grammar, or some of the unfortunate metaphors, but. Huh! Some of the action was, intense." I had to cross my legs.

"The question is, whether or not you actually engaged in any of the things you read about. With Brody."

"Well, you know. Huh, it's not like he's got a playroom or anything, but. Sure." Shrug, "We're legal adults, so we tried some stuff." Think, "You think that's why he got rough with me?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I never read the book, however I have to point out the possible negative effects of role models, especially when both sides of the story aren't told. They can lead to certain attitudes, and I was able to talk to him, with his father earlier."

"Oh, they're not like that. I mean, sure, they're rich, and strong, and handsome, but he's also so gentle and caring, normally. He's changed though, and I can't blame that on the books. He never read them, any of them. He thought they were trash, and honestly, he's right, but still. I couldn't put them down, but they didn't effect my grades, or anything."

"Hilda, you mind if I call you Hilda?"

"I prefer Brandi." She sat down on the corner of her desk, her legs crossed demurely, despite her wearing a pantsuit.

"All right, Brandi. I don't want to pry too deeply into your sex lives, I know it's private, and inappropriate, but I can't truly get to the bottom of his change in behavior unless you're open, and honest with me. You're not in any trouble, unless you've done something extremely criminal like murder, so you can relax.

If, for instance, you had read those books on campus, or even in class, that's not a crime, and I have looked over your grades. It hasn't had any affect on your academic life, but has it affected your relationship?"

"Yeah," I have to admit. "I guess so. Do you think that's why he changed?"

"To answer that, I'm going to have to ask some questions, which may make you a little uncomfortable."

"Just light bondage." I nodded, "Silk scarves, and a spanking. That's it."

"Good. That's quite all right, now. He tied you up." I nodded, "And spanked you." Keep nodding, "Did you ever tie him up, or spank him?"

"Why, no!" Huh! "I didn't even think of that!"

"Would you like to?"

"Now that you mention it, Hihihn! Yeah, that does sound kinda hot. It's weird, talking to you about this, stuff. All of a sudden, you're not like my principal, but it feels more like talking to a friend, who understands."

"Do you know the term Catharsis?" She stood up, and walked back around to her side of the desk. Flats, nice ones, patent leather, but they look comfortable. Now, she sounds more like a teacher.

"Uhm," try to remember from Literature class, "Releasing pent-up feelings, and relieving them in the process? I think."

"Very good. In this case, Brody has been under a lot of stress, and pressure. Their losses for homecoming are a good example, was there any change in his demeanor after those games?"

"Well, he was a little down, but." I can't resist a little grin, "I was able to cheer him up."

"How so?"

"Well, that's when we did it. The first time we went all the way."

"Okay, yes. That would be a good example of Catharsis. Now, if you don't mind me asking, how did he react to your physical relationship becoming more submissive?"

"Well," I have to think, "I guess that is when he started getting more possessive, jealous, and he never hit me. Honestly, unless you count the spanking."

"Now, do you think you might be able to take the other role. If he would have you back, just hypothetically, do you think you could tie him up, and dominate him?"

"Hahuh! I sure would like to give it a shot!"

"Good, however one of the most dangerous things about this is someone who doesn't know what they're doing, and the emotional effects on both partners. I'll have to call Bradley, but."

"Oh my god!" She knows his dad, on a first name basis. Nobody calls him Bradly except for his wife, and she said it just as intimately.

"Brandi. At this point." Very very seriously. "I have to warn you, that there are certain things that you don't know, or understand yet. Things that could destroy reputations."

"I promise, not to say anything, to anyone, about any of this, but. If you don't mind me asking. Feel free not to answer, if this is too private, but. He doesn't have a playroom, does he?"

"I can neither confirm, nor deny that. You'll have to ask Brody about that, later. However, he wasn't aware of any of that, either. Now." She shot her cuff, and looked at her watch. "You've missed your bus, so can I offer you a ride home? It might be a good opportunity to get to know each other better. As friends, and talk about things that might be inappropriate at school."

"Do you? Have a playroom, I mean."

She nodded, silently. "Okay," I drove, but I can always come back for my car, "Let's go."

- - -

Son (m Voye F/M Discipline.)

"You remember this place?" Pulling up to the empty parking lot, I got out, and looked up. Thought back to years ago when he bought it.

"It was a textiles factory." I remember the automatic looms. Now quiet, but he had his engineers fire one up, so I could watch the hypnotic way the interlaced threads switched back and forth. Almost too fast for the eye to follow while the flying shuttle warped back and forth between them. (Or is that weft? Woofed?)

"This way." He unlocked a power box, and turned it on. I expected some sort of sound, more than just the switches, and the lid closing. [D] Stamped into the outside in bas relief. He unlocked a steel security door, and turned on the lights from a switch.

Florescent bars flickered in the hanging ceiling panels, illuminating the rest of the dark corridor, from the light reflecting off warm tiles. Double doors, he closed with a latching bar, and led me back. "This way."

"What's this about?" I know he had plans to convert it into condos, with a nice bar downstairs. It used to be a speakeasy back before it was bought out by, I forget the name of the company. It folded, changed hands so many times. I never got the full story, but it must have been ten years since he came here, and showed it off.

"Now," he patted my back, "It's important to understand that you're not being punished. Close the door." I looked around, both sides, "Look up. It pulls down."

"Oh, right." This wasn't part of the tour. For him, when the engineers looked it over to haul out the old equipment. He held up a big bulky control pendant with start, and stop buttons, you could use to crush a Terminator, or lower him into a crucible. Above, a winch started playing out cable to lower us to the basement.

"What is this about?"

"In a word, control. It's a hell of a lot more complicated than that, but there is such a thing as too much. Control, the stress of keeping it up, 24/7. Week after week, year after year can take it's toll, and I'm beginning to think you're starting to feel that strain." He looked out, over my shoulder, and slapped the big red button to bring us to a stop.

"You have to learn to let go. Give up, and clear your head. So, you can concentrate on what's important, instead of being distracted by the big picture."

He easily lifted the metal gate, without even a grunt, but I suspect some sort of counter-weight mechanism. Maybe behind the car? That's where I would put it, but the rollers were too loud, and then it stopped at the end of travel with a crash.

"Huh?" Like the doors in a prison. "What is this?"

"It's where I go, when I have to relax." He patted my back. "Let go, and just. Feel."

"Feel what?" Torture? I'm no expert here, but this looks like the kind of room where governments take prisoners nobody will ever see again, and get answers out of them.

"Free. To feel free. Go on, take a look around."

He threw a knife switch, and I half expected a hunchback to come out with a lab coat.

"Huha, where's Igor?"

"I'm sure you've heard about BDSM," he checked his watch, and unbuckled it. "I have someone coming, to show you the ropes, but she won't be here for a while."

"Who?"

"My mistress. She's very good at what she does, and before you ask. Yes, your mother knew her, personally. She's also a very good teacher, but our divorce had nothing to do with this." He waved, then went back to unbuttoning his other cuff.

"You're not going to beat me."

"No, like I said, this isn't a punishment. It's just a way to unwind, but you're old enough to try it now, and see what you might like."

"Well, Brandi and I have been getting a little kinky lately." She'll come back, she always does.

"Oh yeah? Kinky how?"

"Well, you know, in bed? You haven't seen it, but she's got this great daybed at home. With wrought iron all the way around, and silk scarves."

"So, bondage." He sat down on something, that looks like it might have been an electric chair at some point. "How did you like it?"

"I don't know, it was fun, I guess. She liked to struggle." Remembering with a grin. "I liked that, too."

"Any role play?"

"Not really." She never really got into our CP2020 games. "You mean like pretending she was someone else, I kidnapped? No, just sex. Rough kinky sex, but other than that, no."

"So you didn't try it. Bondage?"

"No, I'm not submissive." He laughed, "What?"

"We're talking about Hildebrand, right? Not some other Brandi, I don't know?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, what did she ever say or do, to give you the idea that she was at all submissive?"

"Well, other than letting me tie her up, and spank her?"

"And struggle, fight back?"

"Yeah, a little, but you know. She's like this big."

"And you're the big strong running back, right?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So, that's probably the best way to put it." He shook his head, and thought. "Hm, yeah. You know how it feels to score the game-winning goal?"

"You mean a touchdown? Yeah, I do." He's pretty oblivious about football. Maybe if he made it to a game for once in his life, or at least threw the ball around, he might even understand why I like it.

"Well, that's what it feels like. Giving in, giving up control, and letting someone surprise you for once. Instead of calling the shots all the time, having all the responsibility. Having to perform, and the fear of failure weighing on your shoulders."

I jumped, we both did, but the cargo elevator started slowly traveling back up to the ground floor. He had his shirt off, by now, and stood up. "Real quick," he pointed out his scar, with all 4 fingers across his chest. "That's how I got this."

"From double bypass surgery?"

"Right, the strain of my marriage, my companies, and failing at projects like this gave me a fucking heart attack. It almost killed me, until I learned to let go. Now, you don't have to do anything, but I'd like you to see. What we do here, and if you're interested, Simone can teach you how to let go."

The elevator stopped, and then I heard the door. The crash echoing down the open shaft, and then it started down.

"So, she's going to tie you up, and beat you?"

"I don't know." He stood, with his legs shoulder width apart, and crossed his hands in front of him. "She's going to surprise me."

Then, he lowered his head, and I looked for a comfortable place to sit. She opened the door, without the loud crash, but I immediately discovered that nothing down here is designed for his comfort.

"I fucked up." He didn't even look up, just shook his head.

"Huh!" She didn't even look over, but I didn't have any idea what to expect. Maybe someone younger, and definitely skinnier. Than mom, if he's going to cheat on her, then why not a young lithe, wait. No, of course not. That's not mom, I realized with a sigh of relief.

Stuffed into a corset, so her tits bulged up under her chin, and she smiled. "All right," gently, almost like Ms Proctor when she started to listen to reason. "Tell me all about it."

"May I sit?"

"No, here. Hold onto the bar." He reached up, and I realized it was bracketed to the ceiling, at just the right height. She walked around, and felt his ribs, her nails bright, and shiny. Red when the light hit them just right, then she pulled his head back by the hair. "WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

- - -

Cally (Ff NS Talk)

"Huh!" I let my hair down, and she called me "Missus Proctor" in the car.

"It's miss, and you can call me Cally, away from school."

She cocked her head, confused while I watched traffic at the mouth of the parking lot.

"Like Calleigh Duquesne?"

"You watch the show."

"You know, I never noticed before, but. You do kinda look like her."

"I should," there's an opening, so I turned. "She's my sister. She was adopted, but I married her brother, also Adopted. Then, we got a divorce, but I didn't change my name back." I was jealous of her relative success for years.