Brad built his wealth with his own hard work and now, he is reaping the benefits. Too bad that it just so happens that he will soon become one of the benefits offered by La Torre De Estrellas.
At 37 stories above ground level, with a view of the city skyline and the bend of the nearby river, an outdoor deck with a swimming pool, and a master’s bedroom the size of a small studio apartment, the penthouse suite at La Torre De Estrellas was the epitome of modern luxury.
Purchasing it for his own private use had cost Brad an arm and a leg, but he knew that it was worth it. He had moved in just yesterday. The decor, as it was, was a bit tacky for his taste. The furniture was fine. It was sleek. Modern. It looked expensive and high class like Brad liked to think he was.
But there were these strange light installations from floor to ceiling, pulsing with strange colors through the night. They were distracting. And they made his room look almost like a gay nightclub, which to him was disgusting.
Brad had inherited a good portion of wealth from his father, who had been a successful businessman throughout life. Growing up, he hadn’t seen a cent more from those funds than he had needed. It had instilled a good work ethic in him and even when he had finally gotten that windfall, he had managed to keep a level head.
There was a short time during which his spending took an upturn, but he put a pin in that before it got too bad. What was left of his inheritance, he split three ways: savings, investment, and as capital to start the business that he’d always wanted.
He was well aware that success was as much a function of random chance as it was hard work. It just so happened that his business took off and got big. Now here he was, reaping the fruits of his labor. He was wealthy by his own hands, but he was frugal enough that it didn’t usually show. That was why he bought this suite. Why he liked the almost-ostentatious furniture. It showed off his success and that, he was sure, would finally get all the ladies that he wanted in his bed.
Because while his work ethic had helped get him through the trials and tribulations of building his monetary worth, it had also proved to be a detriment to his sex life. He simply didn’t have enough time. Well, in the past he didn’t. Now, he had all the time in the world.
For all of his business acumen, Brad was still human. He was a flawed creature. There were things that he could miss. It just so happened that he missed a pretty big red flag. Well, not that he could have found it without looking really hard.
The Keep had a majority stake in the company that owned La Torre De Estrellas, and they had spared no expense to ensure that the premium condo building would suit their needs. Every suite in the tower, and especially the penthouse suite, was equipped with top-of-the-line technology that would benefit everyone but the person who lived there.
Brad was just the kind of man that the building was supposed to entrap. Arrogant. Intelligent. Straight. It would have been a bonus if he had been a womanizer, but the Keep had found out that he had every intention to become one, which at least counted for something.
That night, when Brad slipped under the sheets, too tired from moving to go out on the prowl, the building manager surreptitiously turned on a device in the headboard of the bed. It was military-grade technology, a passive propaganda tool said to have been invented in Russia. Seeing the trouble with the tech, the Keep swept in, stole the specs, destroyed the data, and turned the tech against its creators and sponsors to force them to forget all about it.
Things weren’t quite as high-risk in Brad’s condo, though. As he slept, his brain was bombarded with waves of energy that stimulated different parts in different ways, allowing for the construction of a dream sequence scaffold where the target’s mind could fill in the blanks.
About halfway through the night, the set-up work was done and Brad started dreaming. His cock tented out the blanket that was draped over his naked body.
In his mind, Brad was making out with several hot women in his brand new bed. He was enjoying himself, jacking his cock, fantasizing about what he was going to do to the girls in a few minutes.
But there was an imperceptible shift in the dream. He felt something prickle his face. Stubble. His eyes flew wide as he realized that he was making out with an older man, with bright eyes and graying hair. The repulsion that Brad instinctively felt at the sight suddenly evaporated and he felt himself surrender to the kiss.
His cock pulsed and throbbed, rewarding him with pleasure. He moaned into the man’s mouth. "W-Who are you?" Brad stammered. He knew he was straight. He wasn’t gay. But he didn’t know why he wasn’t more disturbed by this. "W-Why are you here? What’s going on?" he said, his voice gaining in strength and confidence with every word.
"Call me Daddy," said the man.
Brad shook his head. No. That was… That was gay. He wasn’t gay. He was straight.
"Come on," said the man. "You want to be a good boy, don’t you?" Brad shivered. Good boy. Yes. He wanted to be that. He didn’t know why. But he did. He really wanted to be a good boy. "Say it. Say I’m your Daddy."
"Y-You’re my Daddy…" said Brad, sucking in a sharp breath as he felt a surge of pleasure up his spine. He moaned, back arching off the bed as his Daddy grabbed his cock and started stroking it for him. It felt good. So good.
"That’s a good boy," said Daddy. "I know you think you’re straight right now. But that’s a lie. Just a lie you’ve been telling yourself all these years. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know where you belong."
Daddy smiled. He looked like a devil in Brad’s eyes. "On your knees. Sucking cock. Like the faggot that you really are."
For all the money that the Keep had spent on obtaining the technology, building the tower, and bribing local regulation bodies to look the other way, the Keep had already made a tidy profit. The tower had been open for less than a month, but the clientele, successful gay men that had been bullied and abused before their success wanting revenge on straight boys, had proven to be more enthusiastic than they could have ever imagined.
And the drooling dumbass sluts that the straight bois were turned into were the perfect tenants, happy enough to pay rent with their fat asses and empty heads, demanding nothing in return for their services other than more dicks to stuff their eager pussies.