The Substitute Wife

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Authors: Keegan Kennedy

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The Substitute Wife

by Keegan Kennedy

 

Published by Keegan Kennedy

Copyright: April, 2012

Cover Art by: K. Yates

 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher or author.

 

This work contains graphic sex, as well as, discipline, dominance, submission, and other elements of sexual fetishes and fantasies. All characters in this erotic novella are 18 years or older.

 

This book is a work of fiction.  Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

 

Table of Contents:

Cover

The Story

About the Author

Other Titles from Keegan Kennedy

 

The Story:

Life is like a river.... It always runs its natural course....

My mom had taken off two years ago...the day after my 16th birthday.

She had been a waitress over at the truck stop by the interstate. Apparently, she had met some trucker and had taken off with him...after knowing him for a grand total of two days. God only knew where she was now, but it sure wasn’t in this little piss-ant little town in northern Missouri.

I loved my mom, because she was my mom. The fact that she was also a selfish bitch was not lost on me.

I’d never met my real father. Heck, I didn’t even know his name. I figured that my momma didn’t know either.

For as long as I could remember, me and Momma had moved from town to town from place to place and from man to man. I had so many
uncles
growing up that I had lost count. All of that had changed though when my mom had married Hank Conroy. I had been 13 at the time.

Hank had been the best thing to ever happen to us. Me and Momma finally had a roof over our heads and food on the table. We had spending money in our pockets too. I had lived most of my young life not knowing if there was going to be food on the table or if we would have to live in our car again. So, life with Hank was nothing short of paradise.

Hank Conroy was a good man. He was an honest and hard-working construction foreman...working from sunup to sundown...six days a week. He was a big guy...standing at 6’3. His face was handsome and rugged. He had dark brown hair with gray at the temples and a goatee.

Unlike Hank, I had a slim and smooth body. I stood at 5’9 and had straight sandy brown hair that fell into my eyes.

He didn’t talk too much, especially to me. Hank wasn’t necessarily a cold man.... He was just a man of few words.

I had known that I was gay for as long as I could remember. From the moment that I sat foot in his house, I am pretty sure that Hank knew that I was gay too. I suppose my soft demeanor and compliant inclinations had a lot to do with that.

Despite my mannerisms and obvious aversion to sports, my step dad eventually did get his suspicions confirmed.

Back when I had been 14, my stepdad had been helping out one of his construction hands with a place to stay after he had broken up with his old lady and gotten thrown out of their trailer. Dirk Jackson was young, tough and unbelievably hot from his squared jaw to his distracting blue eyes. I had followed the man around like a love-sick puppy.

One fateful Saturday, I had been hanging out in Dirk’s room with him, when he had made me an interesting proposition. Dirk offered me five dollars, I would show him my butt and let him spank me bare-assed. Being a lust-struck teen bottom, it had not taken Dirk long to convince me. Not having much experience with other boys, much less a grown, muscular man, I was ready willing and able.

As soon as I had pulled stripped down to my white briefs, Dirks had practically ripped them off of me and had put me over his knee. Just as Dirk had finished feeling of my butt and given me my first couple of whacks with his rough hands, Hank had walked unexpectedly into the garage apartment. He found me over Dirk’s lap...bareassed...while Dirk was busy spanking my cheeks.

Hank had flown into a rage. I had watched as he had roughed up Dirk, threw him out of the garage and fired him from the construction site. Hank had told me to go to my room and wait for him.

After making me wait for like an hour, Hank had finally arrived. He had sat down on the bed beside me and had put his arm around my shoulders.

He had asked me. “From what I seen and what I reckon about you, Austin,  you feel that your natural place is in the submissive role to an older man....”

“Yes,” I had admitted for the first time to another living person.

“Uh-huh,” Hank had managed as he stroked his goatee. “Well, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Some men and some boys fit together that way. It’s real natural if that’s how you’re wired. Just promise me one thing, Austin....”

“Yes, Sir,” I had meekly replied.

“Don’t give a man that cherished gift of your...uh...rear end...without him being real special to ya. Dirk Jackson is no good white trash and he would make all sorts of promises to get what he wanted from ya. Austin, you got ya a real, tender heart, and I won’t let him hurt you like that. So, if you got them inclinations, you should save that special gift until you find the...uh...man of your dreams.”

I had looked up at the big man beside me, and we had exchanged a rare smile. He had patted my back and walked out of my room. The subject matter had not been brought up since.  

I had been shocked. I had just come out to my ultra-masculine and tough step dad. Hank Conroy had actually accepted me for who I was and had given me the best advice of my life. That moment had forever changed the way that I had thought of him.

When Momma had split and left her goodbye note for me and Hank, I had thought that he would surely kick me to the curb. I just knew that I would end up living in the streets and eating out of trashcans, but Hank had stepped up.

He had come to my room, where I had been crying. I had just known that he was about to throw me out when he had said, “Austin, your momma left us both, but don’t you worry, boy.” He had paused. “I will look after ya from here on out. I ain’t gonna let ya go hungry and without a roof over your head.”

I had dried my tears. “Thank you, Sir.”

“But, I am gonna need ya to pitch in around here. When you ain’t at school, you’ll be here cooking for us, cleaning up the house, washing my clothes and fetching me my beers while I watch TV like your Ma did. You’re gonna be doin’
most
of the work that she did around here. You are gonna be the one to make sure this house runs like a fine oiled machine. I know you’re only 16, but are you up to the challenge, Austin?”

“Yes, Sir,” I had replied with a smile.

So, for the last two years, Hank and I had quite the smooth operation going. While I was in high school during the day, he was at work. I arrived home every weekday at 3:30. I cleaned the house. I did his laundry. I also made sure that dinner was on the table at 6:30 pm sharp every night with no exceptions.

He still didn’t talk a lot. I had accepted that he was the strong, silent type. Instead, we would spend hours in silence watching TV each night. I would be on the couch either watching along with him or reading a book. Hank would be in the recliner with his big size 14, socked feet propped up on the footrest. Of course, as part of the conditions of our agreement, I would closely watch the level on his beers and fetch him another before he even asked for it. In fact, I had gotten pretty adept at anticipating Hank’s needs.

I was thankful for Hank Conroy. He had been more of a parent to me than my momma ever had. I appreciated him and was going to keep him happy....

Now, it was two weeks before high school graduation. It was also my 18th birthday and a Friday. Little did I know that this day would change the entire course of my life.

That morning had started out like any other had. I slammed off my alarm at 4:30 am and rushed into the kitchen to make Hank’s breakfast. I had exactly 30 minutes to have it ready and waiting for him on the table. The menu this morning was canned biscuits, bacon, tater tots and scrambled eggs.

You could set a watch by Hank. At exactly, 5:00 am he walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his usual cowboy boots, faded jeans and tucked in white t-shirt. His over 25 years in construction had given Hank a brawny and formidable frame. At 42, he was handsome and muscular. Many times I had thought that my momma had been a nut job to leave a man as good-looking as my stepdad.

Per usual, I was bare-chested and only wearing a pair of Hanes white cotton briefs.

As I poured him his cup of coffee, he sat down and began to eat.

I made myself a smaller portioned plate and sat down at the small table to his left.

“So, uh,” Hank began awkwardly. “You got a big birthday today, don’t ya, boy?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied slightly taken aback by his starting a conversation at breakfast.

Hank had never been much of a morning person and sometimes we would eat completely in silence. If there ever were conversation at breakfast, it had always been initiated by him and not me.

“It is a big one. And me graduating in a couple of weeks makes it all the better.”

My stepdad gave me a nod.

“I’m proud of ya, Austin,” he said uncomfortably. “I never made it past 10th grade down in Arkansas, and here you are going all the way through.”

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