Call Me Father

“Open up for me, pretty boy.”

Strong hands parted Chase’s thighs, guiding his legs around a dominant waist. The grip moved up and pinched his nipples until they hurt. He hissed under the sharp mix of pain and pleasure.

“Mm, yeah. Like that,” Chase gasped.

“I’m the only one permitted to make you feel this way,” a hot breath whispered against his neck. His body answered instantly, arching under the pressure.

“You have a mouth. Use it,” the voice commanded.

“Yes daddy,” he managed to get out.

A finger rubbed his entrance before slowly slotting inside. He cried out at the sudden intrusion. Suddenly Maya’s voice drifted in from the kitchen.

“Cupcake. Are you there?”

Panic rushed through him. He tried to move but his body felt like lead.

“You don’t get to answer anyone when I’m with you,” the man said, adding a second finger. The pace turned faster and rougher. Chase bit his lip hard, trying to stay quiet, but the wet sounds and the pressure made his thighs tighten.

“You want this more than I thought.”

A third finger stretched him. The sharp pain hit first, then pleasure took over. His mother’s voice was already forgotten.

“Fuck… your fingers—”

“Just look at the way you tighten around me, Chase,” the hoarse voice said. “Look how wet you are for me.”

“Just fuck me already,” Chase pleaded, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

The man tied his hands above his head. Chase tried to hold back his groans, desperate to deny him the satisfaction, but it didn’t work. The sight of the man’s cock made him drool against his will. A confusing thought hit him: he had never found men attractive. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. But this man was different.

Why did he feel so defeated just by looking at him?

The head rubbed against his entrance, then pushed all the way in with one slow, precise thrust. Chase clenched tightly, terrified by how much he was enjoying it against his will. Tears welled in his eyes as the pace turned rough and deep. The man groaned above him, pressing him into the mattress.

With one final thrust, everything burst inside him.

The bedroom door swung open. His mother stood there, wide-eyed, as the tray she was holding crashed to the floor.

Chase’s eyes flew open at once.

He looked around the room only to find it empty. Maya wasn’t there. Neither was any man. It had only been a dream.

His heart raced. He sat up on his bed, trying to shake off the lingering feeling. He hated how real the dreams felt. Worst of all, the same stranger appeared in them every single night.

It wasn’t just the sex that scared him. It was how easily he gave in. How natural it felt to call that man daddy. How his body still throbbed with the memory even while his mind screamed that it was wrong.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They were shaking.

What kind of person dreams about the same stranger every night and wakes up hard and guilty?

He didn’t have an answer. And that terrified him more than the dream itself.

He had never seen him in his entire life, yet somehow he looked familiar in the worst possible way.

The dreams had started weeks ago.

Always the same man.

Always those eyes.

Always that impossible feeling that Chase had known him long before he’d ever seen him.

He had tried convincing himself it was just his brain making things up.

But deep down, something about the stranger felt too familiar to be random.

“Cupcake, are you there?” Mom’s voice filtered through the door.

Chase scrambled up from the bed with shaky hands.

“I’ll come down. Give me a minute.”

He couldn’t let her come in or see him this way. It was way too embarrassing. It wasn’t just the state of his body that scared him. It was the thought that somehow, in some impossible way, she might look at him and know. Know what he’d been dreaming. Know what he’d moaned in his sleep. Know that the person making him fall apart wasn’t a girl.

What would she think if she found out?

That her son — the popular one, the one who always had girls around him — was the kind of person who got hard from a man pinning him down and calling him pretty boy?

The idea made his stomach turn.

He quickly fixed his clothes and forced his face into something normal before opening the door.

She had already left by the time he reached it. He breathed out a sigh.

He needed to find a way to end these dreams.

He didn’t understand why his mind kept creating the same stranger.

It made no sense.

Chase ran into the bathroom, splashed water onto his face, and stared at his disheveled reflection.

Or was the man a ghost from his past life?

He shook off the thought, turned on the shower, and stepped inside. He tried to wash off the shame and the stupid feeling in his chest that had liked the dream. The water didn’t do much, but it was enough to get him moving.

He rushed downstairs, clothes hanging sloppily on him. He was running late for class, or maybe just running away from his room — the one place that had started feeling strange because of a dream.

Maya sat at the edge of the dining table, fully dressed. Her eyes brightened when she saw him.

“Have something before you leave.” She drew out a chair for him.

Chase avoided her eyes. “I’m late. I’ll eat later.”

“That’s what you said yesterday and the day before. Don’t you like it when I cook?”

Chase gave her a nervous smile. He couldn’t sit close to her right now. Part of him felt like if he stayed too long, she would somehow know he wasn’t what she expected him to be.

“It’s not what you think. I’ll have it when I’m back. I’m sorry, Mom.”

He hurried away without looking back at her disappointed face.

Chase took a deep breath as he walked into school. The shaky legs and racing heart had to stay outside. Here he was still the version of himself everyone expected — the one the girls looked at, the one who never had to explain anything. He needed that today. He needed the attention and the noise to push the dream further down.

He walked into class like nothing had happened. Like he wasn’t hiding anything under his ripped jeans and expensive sneakers. The moment he stepped in, a few girls from the faculty came up to him, smiling and reaching for him. Chase grinned the way he always did, even though his stomach still felt sick from the dream.

“Easy, girls. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Ruby pushed through them a second later, already frowning.

“Get lost. Don’t put your dirty hands on my boyfriend.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pouted. “You let them touch you.”

Chase kissed her, longer than necessary. It was mostly out of habit, but today it also felt like he was reminding himself of who he was supposed to be. The class whistled and laughed like always. He ignored it and dropped into his seat, still tasting her lipstick and hating how little it helped.

Quincy slid in beside him with an amused look.

“Showing off again?”

“Fuck off.”

Quincy only grinned. “There’s a party tonight. The boys have plans for the new professor. You in?”

Chase frowned. “Which professor?”

“Jaxon. You haven’t heard of him?”

The name felt strange in his head. Familiar in a way he couldn’t explain.

Before he could answer, a student rushed in.

“Professor Jaxon is coming, I’m sure breaking up with my boyfriend right now!”

The room went quiet as a pair of expensive shoes crossed the doorway. A blond man in a sharp suit walked in, the kind of presence that didn’t belong in a classroom, only in a billion-dollar empire.

Chase couldn’t look away.

“That’s him,” Quincy whispered.

The man felt familiar. Not just his face — the way he stood, the distance in his eyes.

Then those eyes flicked toward Chase.

Chase froze.

It was him.

The stranger from his dreams.

Standing right in front of him.

His professor.

Chase’s heart started pounding so hard he was sure the whole class could hear it. Shame crawled up the walls of his stomach, that same feeling he always had after waking up to sticky pants and cold sweat.

How the hell could a lecturer fuck you in your dream?

And why did it feel like the man already knew?