"Dad" Scene 1
Tim knew something was strange the moment he first stepped onto his new property. There was a pickup truck parked at the top of the driveway, and the house's lights were on. This huge manor, standing proud as a shining beacon amidst all the overgrown weeds on the unkept field. Not only that, but he could hear voices. Laughter. This was supposed to be his house now. Tim was intrigued, and a cold wind chilled him for a moment.
But had to knock a couple timed before he got his answer, but after the door finally opened and Tim's heart skipped a beat or two. Was this fear, or love? Two tall, burly men cast long shadows out onto the field from the cramped hallway they stood in.
"Yes?" Questioned the one in front, wearing a blue shirt. He had glasses on, salt and pepper hair, and although his beard grew all over his jaw, his moustache still stuck out on top. "What do you want?"
"Oh, um-" Tim muttered. "It's my house."
"Huh?" The man responded, impatiently raising an eyebrow. "Speak up, son."
"It's my… This is my house."
"What?"
~~~~
About half an hour later Tim found himself sinking into an old couch inside the house. Across from him was Mayor McGraff, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was all white, and sported a matching grey/white beard. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought as Tim explained his situation. He'd inherited this farm from his uncle Roger, but he didn't open the letter for a whole year before receiving it.
"I understand…" Mayor McGraff finally assessed. "Here's the thing. Your uncle's farm sat here for four years empty. Four. We couldn't exactly give away the costs, let alone the manpower to keep up with this huge plot of land. We didn't hear from any of Roger's relatives after he passed so… we eventually had to sell it. To him." He motioned towards the blue shirted man, who sat in the kitchen sipping on a whiskey.
"No…" Tim's heart shattered. "You sold it?"
"The law only requires we wait for one year." Mayor McGrath spoke clearly. "We gave it three more out of the goodness of our hearts, but we didn't hear from you until it was too late."
"Oh…" Tim's lip shook as the poor boy verged on tears. "What am I supposed to do now? I sold it all…There's nothing waiting for me back in the city."
"Well, let's see what we can do." The Mayor stood, heading to speak with the other man in the kitchen. In time, he returned.
"We're going to let you two settle this between yourselves. Legally, we can't do anything against him. He owns the land, be said he'll hear you out." He clasped Tim's shoulder with his large hand before sending him off into lion's den. "You can plead your case to him!"
Tim shut the door behind him, sealing the silence inside. "Hi sir." He tried to sound confident but remained standing with his back to the wall. As his eyer nervously took this man in, Tim noticed some chest hair popping out under the man's blue shirt. "I'm Tim, what's your name?"
"I don't know you, 'Tim'." The man opened with what sounded like an accusation. "For now, you can call me Dad."
"Dad?" Tim was almost disturbed.
"Yeah, Dad." He seemed unphased by Tim's shock. "Or father. Whatever's easiest."
"Why don't you just give me your name?" Tim insisted, unwilling to play into this 'Dad' power play.
"Listen kid." The man huffed. "I'm here to make this as quick as we can." He approached the table in the middle of the room, setting down a folder. He beckoned Tim to approach. "Come sit."
"Oh- Ok." Tim complied, found it strange 'Dad' remained standing.. "I was thinking… we could divide the land half each. I'll buy my chunk from you."
"With what?" The man responded abrasively, "You've got nothing."
He let Tim simmer in despair.
"Hear me when I tell you: We're not here to negotiate." He shook his head gently, arms crossed. "You can't win against me. You lost the moment you came up against me."
"I don't want to win." Tim desperately interjected. "I just want some-"
"Shut." 'Dad' silenced. It wasn't a yell or a scream, but a firm instruction that Tim felt compelled to follow. "Adult's speaking."
He circled the table, bringing the slim folder with him. "Not all us came unprepared" Standing beside Tim, he seemed even more like a giant. "Before I purchased this land- From the government…" He spoke condescendingly as if Tim was stupid. "I had my lawyer buddy write a contract, which you're going to sign."
"Well, what is it?"
"You can read it." The man dropped the file in front of Tim.
The folder opened smoothly to reveal a single sheet of paper covered in lawyer speak. The specifics eluded Tim, but he read between the lines to make sense of this. The contract stated that Tim was going to pay rent to live there. The land wouldn't be his but he could work it and sell what he made from it.
"I'm not going to sign this." Tim tried to stand up for himself.
"Oh, yes you will." Responded the man, who now stood right next to Tim's chair, his crotch at the boy's eye level. "This land is mine. What I'm doing here for you is a favor. Your bad choices ain't my problem, kid." He said, placing a hand on the top of Tim's head. "Nor are they anyone else's."
"This was my uncle's life… Half the farm should be mine." Tim's voice shook as he made his weak demand.
"Now, son." 'Dad's' fingers curled, gripping Tim's hair. He pulled the boy's head sideways and in an instant Tim had half a face full of bulge. "That's not how we make a deal."
"Ah…" Tim gingerly tried to pull away.
"Focus on the paper." The man scolded him, starting to rub his firm crotch on the pleading boy. "This is important. How much of the farm do you want?"
"Fifty percent." Tim spoke up, closing his eyes as he could tell the man was slowly getting hard against his face.
"No, that's too much. Less than that." The man spoke calmly.
"Okay, forty." Tim swallowed hard.
"Thirty."
"Fine, thirty." This was unreal.
"Twenty."
"No, thirty." Tim's blood ran cold.
The man stopped swaying his hip to make sure Tim could feel the bulging mushroom at the tip. "Twenty." He insisted.
Tim understood what was happening. All 'Dad' cared about is letting him know how much he was getting off on taking everything from him.
"Twenty." Tim caved.
"Ten."
"Ten."
"Zero." The man smiled under his moustache.
"Zero."
"Zero?" 'Dad' asked. "That's your uncle's life we're talking about here."
"Zero."
"Good boy." The man's hand travelled down to stroke Tim's cheek, following his weak tears. "Keep reading, son. You're fucked."
Tim attempted to trudge. through his hazy mind. The last section of the contract outlined a tax on his income: a whopping 85% off Tim's entire income. A bill labelled FAG TAX.
"That's right. I'm taking your money too." The man was getting harder by the second.
"But-"
"Don't try it." The man's grip didn't let Tim so much as budge.
Almost without noticing, Tim began to cry. A tear rolled down onto 'Dad's' finger, which he brought it to his mouth to lick.
"I'm fucked." Tim lamented as his shaky hand raised to etch his name on the paper.
"You are."
Tim scribbled the letters slowly.
"Give it all to daddy." 'Dad' stroked Tim's hair.
"Yes sir."
"All of it."
"Yes."
"All of it is mine?"
"Yes daddy." Tim clarified.
"None for you?"
"No daddy."
"The property, your money: Mine. All of it."
"Yes dad- Yes daddy." Tim panted out, but it was too late to correct. Yes said, more confidently: "Yes, Dad."
He smiled, and Tim couldn't help but try and kiss the man's cock through the fabric.
"There he is." he playfully slapped Tim's cheek, happy to finally be addressed properly. "There he is."
Suddenly, Dad stepped away making Tim gasp. "All right. Glad that cleared things up." He gathered the documents into the folder. "The Mayor will give you a tent to sleep on and I expect my tax to be paid on time." He flicked the document Tim had just signed, seemingly singing his life away. "Don't make this hard for yourself. I can legally kick you out and keep eveything you own, which is exactly the type of thing I'd enjoy doing."
He stopped once more beside Tim, gripping his jaw and forcing him to look up.
"Who am I?"
"Dad." Tim had to stop himself from reaching to grab the man's still tenting crotch.
"Dad?" He squeezed harder, an eyebrow raised.
Tim nearly panicked before the answer became obvious: "My Dad."
"I own you, son."
As Dad stepped out of the room, leaving Tim to think about what just happened, he spoke over his shoulder:
"I'll make sure to tell The Mayor what a skilled negotiator you are."