A Better Option? - Cover

A Better Option?

Copyright© 2018 by Kinky_Fun

Chapter 1: Forming A Plan

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1: Forming A Plan - I found them living on the street, a mother with her son and daughter. Here was my chance to sate my perversions, and maybe help them out of a fix. Did I realize that I might grow attached? Did I realize they might come to cherish me? And what menaces might try to tear us apart?

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/ft   Ma/mt   Coercion   Slavery   BiSexual   CrossDressing   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Daughter   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Light Bond   Spanking   Harem   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Petting   Water Sports   Small Breasts   Nudism   Slow  

I am not a bad man. In fact I consider myself to be a very nice man. If I see someone suffering, I will usually bend over backwards to give them the shirt off my back. I am usually polite and courteous towards others. I believe it is wrong to slack off when others have to pick up the slack, and so I usually try to do more than my fair share in any job.

Yep, I consider myself to be a good man. Except for that one flaw, I am a pervert. I can admit that, I have come to accept that about myself. I suppose I could break that down and call it several flaws, but it is simpler to say that there are few fetishes from which I don’t get at least some rise.

As a matter of principle, I wouldn’t hurt anyone (maybe a spanking or some humiliation), nor will I tolerate scat (sorry it’s just too dirty ... it freaks me out), and always, I rule the roost.

I better stop myself before I climb up on my soapbox, and tell you a little about myself. My name is Jonas Lots. Right now I am 35 years old. 5’8” a little on the slender side at 130lbs (59kg for all you non-Americans). I have auburn hair, gray eyes, and I never go anywhere without my goatee. [I just look like a dork without it.]

I have been an introvert my whole life. My idea of a perfect day is a pot of coffee, a box of cheese-its, and my computer. All through school I always loved my computers. By 12, I was building custom systems. By 16 I was writing my own operating systems. And by 20, although I may be biased, I considered myself as one of the top 5 individual hackers in the country. And so I took that as my career and ran with it.

At first, it was just me using my hacking skills to work as a private internet security consultant. It didn’t take long, however, for word of my skill to pass around, and I managed to pull bigger jobs from larger companies. Within 5 years I had been forced to track down and hire a few of the other hackers I had encountered. Together, we managed to develop a mainframe security system that locked out all but the best. And we raked in the gold selling to several large companies (2 in the fortune 500), with me as the lead no less.

Over the next 2 years I started transforming our little think tank into a proper business. You know, a couple sales people, a secretary or two, a manager for oversight, etc. Sadly, the business continued to grow, but it grew away from me. It was about a year later, I found myself as the owner (I had managed to keep private ownership thus far) of a multi-million dollar company that had no need for me. And so when a certain software security company, whose name rhymes with Horton, came along and offered 8 digits to buy up my company, I jumped on it. Honestly I’m not sure why they offered that much money, but who was I to turn down that kind of pocket money? It’s not like I had a better option.

As for family, I have none. Or at least none to speak of. My father passed away early from a heart attack right after I graduated high school. My mother passed away a decade later. Mostly, I think she just withered away after my father passed. And as for my sister, well, I HAD a sister, but I think she’s pretty much disowned me after ... well that’s it’s own story.

For the last year now, I’ve mostly been kicking back and putzing with my computers from home for fun. And that brings us to today; I am a 35 year old multi-millionaire but I have nowhere to spend it

Now that I have bored you to death [or more likely you probably glossed over the last 8 paragraphs] ONTO THE STORY... !

As I mentioned before, I am a pervert. But I have always kept my desires hidden very well. The desires, however, are still there. And about 6 months ago, I was walking into a small local bank to check on a malfunctioning network router, I noticed a homeless woman and her daughter sitting on the curb begging for handouts. That is when it hit me. A chance to satisfy my desires without having to out my deviance to the whole world. But I had to do it carefully.

Inside the bank, I headed straight for the administrative offices to find Bill Varner. Now I’ve known Bill since grade school. Probably the only real friend I had back then. And he’s the only reason I even agreed to watch over the bank’s network. Bill’s real name is William Baxton Varner IV. And he is the president of the bank, a job he inherited from his father who inherited it from his father who. Well you know how it goes.

As I walked in Bill looked up and his face just lit up. “JONAS! So glad to see you. Why are you here today?”

“Oh, just here to check up on a router reporting some unusual activity, probably nothing, but it can’t hurt for me to look. But on my way in I saw noticed a homeless woman and her daughter and wanted to stick my head in to see if you were aware of her sitting right outside the bank.”

It struck me how his whole face drooped and the flush of exuberance just turned to a murky gray. “Ummm, about her, well I can’t quite ... She didn’t trouble you, did she?” and at the shake of my head he continued, “I can’t quite decide what to do about her. I probably shouldn’t be telling you anything, but knowing you, I’m sure you’ll just insist on being the nice guy to help her out. You see, she used to have an account here along with her husband. They were living comfortably in the upper end of town. They were maybe stretching their means a little, had a mortgage out on their home, nothing unusual though. Well I don’t know much in the way of details, but as far as I can tell, her husband up and left. Took most of the money from their account while he was at it. She had no job, and for some reason had no idea that she owed money on their home. It broke my heart seeing her walk in those doors, in tears when she received her due notice. She was balling her eyes out, and well ... it’s business. As much as I felt for her, I can’t just forget about a debt in the six figure range. There are laws about that.

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