Chapter 2 #3
“You will either be naked or dressed in clothes of our choosing,” I continue to explain, painting a fuller picture of what he can expect if he agrees to our arrangement.
“You will be involved in several scenes, most if not all of them involving both sweet and savory foods. We will feed you plenty and often, usually by hand. We will also feast on you. By this, I mean we will eat most if not all of our meals off your body. But my husband also particularly enjoys fantasizing about gobbling up sweet little treats like yourself to keep safe and warm in his belly. Will this sort of language make you uncomfortable?”
Oliver blinks, as if realizing he’s just been asked a question.
“No, I don’t think so, Master. That’s the voraphilia thing, right?
I looked it up. The food sex stuff sounds really, well, sexy.
So that’s all cool. I’m not sure I understand the being eaten thing entirely, but it doesn’t freak me out.
I’m…intrigued, I guess. And if it makes the birthday boy happy, then that’s all that really matters to me. ”
I tilt my head, wondering if this young man truly doesn’t understand how remarkable he is.
“Excellent,” I say softly. “Shall I continue?”
“There’s more?” Oliver asks with raised eyebrows. “I mean, sure, yeah, go ahead.”
I hum in amusement, my gaze darting to the cakes. Without needing further prompting, he selects another one and pops it in his mouth, chewing happily as I watch on.
“I’m assuming you haven’t had any experience with bondage?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, but I like it when guys pin my arms above my head when they’re, you know…” He does a quick check to make sure no one’s listening. “Fucking me. I’ve sometimes wondered about taking that further. So, I guess I’ve thought about that before as well as the Daddy thing.”
“Good,” I say with a nod. “It’s possible that I might want to indulge in some Shibari rope play, but I will definitely want to cuff your wrists and ankles when we dine off you. I will also want to sometimes blindfold you in order to heighten your senses. How does that sound?”
Before answering, he shudders again and shifts in his chair. “It sounds hot, Master.”
I allow myself a grin. “Are you getting hard, little treat?”
“Oh, I’ve basically been hard since I got here,” he grumbles with a laugh.
“But you’re not going to do anything about it, are you?” I ask with a hint of warning. I know he hasn’t officially agreed to be ours yet, but I want to see how he reacts if that’s what I imply.
His gaze drops and he bites his lower lip. “No, Master. I promise not to do anything like that without your permission.”
Well, now we’re both apparently struggling with raging hard-ons, because that perfect reaction only makes mine throb more. Luckily, the white tablecloth is there to protect our modesty.
“Good boy. I will want to engage in some mild pain play,” I go on.
We’re near the end of my list now, and I’m trying not to get my hopes up.
But it’s obvious he’s been enthusiastic about everything I’ve suggested so far.
“Primarily spanking and hot wax. Nothing that will leave a mark unless you wish.” Fondness swells up in me.
“If so, my husband is a big fan of hickeys. Again, these can be placed where they won’t be obvious, if you prefer. ”
For the first time, Oliver looks slightly uncomfortable. “Um, I’m honestly not sure about those things. I’d be willing to try them, though. But would it be okay if I asked you to stop if it turns out I don’t like it?”
Rather than reply right away, I hold my hand out, palm up.
He regards it for a moment, then slips his hand against mine.
I close my fingers and caress his knuckles with my thumb.
“Oliver, if we move forward with this weekend, you absolutely must tell us to stop if you’re anything less than one hundred percent happy at any point. Is that understood?”
He considers me with wide eyes for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Master.”
“We will use a simple traffic light system,” I explain further.
“Green means go, yellow is pause, and red is stop everything immediately. You will never, ever be punished for using your colors. In fact, I want to make clear how proud I am to hear your honest answer just now about the pain play. We have to be able to trust each other, Oliver, and that gives me a lot of faith in you.”
He smiles bashfully. “Thank you, Master,” he murmurs.
“Good boy.” I stroke his hand for a moment, giving him time to compose himself again. “I would be honored to experiment with the pleasure pain can bring for you. But if you’d rather, we can skip it entirely.”
He rocks from side to side, watching his hand in mine. “No, I think I’d like to try. That feels safe, knowing I can opt out at any time.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “You will always be safe with us, Oliver.”
“Thank you,” he says again, meeting my gaze. Those eyes. It’s not just their unusual color, but the sparkle behind them. I can’t wait to see what my Augie Pie makes of this young man, because I’m already smitten. “Is that everything?” he asks.
“Almost,” I say. “I have three more items to discuss. The first should be quite simple as we’ve partially covered it in our texts. But I want to confirm that you’re on PrEP?”
“Yes, Master,” he says eagerly, reaching into his bag.
“I also swung by the clinic yesterday to get a quick turnaround checkup, and I can show you the results here—oh.” He goes pink and looks sheepish as he sees something on his phone screen.
“Sorry, my best friend has messaged me three times to make sure I haven’t been murdered.
She listens to too many true crime podcasts. Sorry, I…”
I gesture to the phone. “By all means, please reassure her. I like that you have people looking out for you.”
He smiles sweetly as he hastily types. “She’s the best. I wouldn’t have survived college without her. Okay, done! Right…oh, the test results.” He flicks between apps and then brings up a screen to show me. “All clear. So if you, um, wanted to…like you said…”
“I would very much like to negate the use of condoms this weekend, yes,” I reiterate. “I am all for safety. But they are hardly a culinary delight, which would dampen the mood I’m aiming to set for my husband’s birthday celebration. However, if this is going to be a problem for you—”
“No,” he says quickly before shifting in his seat and looking contrite as he puts his phone back in the bag.
“Sorry, Master. I didn’t mean to interrupt.
But I’ve thought a lot about it since you already mentioned it.
This is why I’m on PrEP. Usually, I put up with how condoms smell and feel, but if this is going to be a fantasy…
” He sucks in a deeper breath and nods. “I don’t want to break the illusion by stopping to check for consent all the time, and I definitely don’t want to ruin the vibe worrying about anyone suiting up.
I’m confident in the medication I’m on and, well, part of my fantasy is trusting you and your husband.
” He straightens his back and looks me dead in the eyes. “Can I trust you, Master?”
“Yes, Oliver,” I say firmly, my gaze not wavering a millimeter.
He might be shy and vanilla, but seeing this little burst of determination in asking for what he wants is extremely sexy to me.
“That’s the most important factor in this entire arrangement.
If we don’t have trust, it all falls apart.
I would be bringing you into our home to please my husband, but I am a Dom.
My priority is always on the safety, comfort, and enjoyment of my sub or subs.
For this weekend, that would be both you and August, but I will pay particular attention to your needs as someone new on the kink scene as well as the boy serving his Daddy and his Master.
I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not being taken care of.
No,” I amend, raising a finger at him. “Treasured. You will be treasured at all times. That includes your physical safety as well as mental well-being.”
I’m known for getting on my high horse with speeches like that. August enjoys teasing me about it. But I watch as Oliver nods, apparently absorbing everything I’ve said.
“Okay,” he says slowly but with conviction. “I like that. Thank you, Master, for respecting my wishes. So, we’re agreed? No condoms.”
“Agreed,” I tell him. He lets out a little breath and nods.
“Okay. What’s next?” He smiles and reaches for another cake. It pleases me greatly that he feels relaxed enough to keep eating. With a nod of my own, I consider that matter closed.
“The second is financial,” I continue to explain, genuinely unsure of how this point is going to be taken.
“As my husband is nothing if not thorough, his food kink also includes being a sugar Daddy. He will want to buy his sweet treat presents, plural. He will also want to pay you for your time. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
Again, Oliver pauses. But I feel the weight of this one more. “Um, you don’t have to do that,” he says with a little frown. “I’d be doing this because I want to.”
“And my husband would be gifting you money because he wants to, as a way to spoil you,” I clarify.
“He will know without doubt that you’d be joining us of your own free will.
But it makes him feel good to share his wealth.
” I flick my eyebrow at Oliver in a conspiratorial manner.
“Did I mention that he’s filthy rich and literally earns more than we know what to do with?
He gives away as much of it as he can to good causes, and you would be one of them. ”
Oliver laughs hesitantly. “Um, well. Maybe? The gift thing sounds nice, maybe. But I might have to see how I feel about a bank transfer.” He wrinkles his nose. “If I’m being honest, I’m worried that might, um, cheapen the experience. I don’t know if it would leave me feeling kind of icky. Sorry.”
“No, Oliver,” I insist. “Thank you so much for telling me your true thoughts. That’s very important.
I’ll be honest with you in return. I know this will be important to August. It will probably make him feel dejected if he can’t at least do something for you.
” I take a moment to finish my tea as I think.
Oliver waits patiently until an idea strikes me.
“How about a compromise? If you genuinely don’t feel comfortable with a financial gift for yourself, would you be all right selecting a charity for my husband to donate to in your name? ”
This adorable boy’s whole demeanor lights up like a Baked Alaska en flambé. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea! Aren’t you smart? Yes, I’d be very happy with that, Master. Thank you.”
My heart flips in my chest. We’ve never had a sugar baby who didn’t happily accept everything August wanted to give them.
And that’s the whole point, so nothing wrong there.
But I knew this young man was special from the second I read his reply.
I can’t deny how endearing Oliver’s humility is, and his casual praise toward me certainly strokes my outrageous ego.
It’s his kindness, though, that takes me a moment to recover from.
He seems sincerely delighted at the notion of August gifting a check in his name.
I’m curious what type of organization he might be drawn to.
However, we can discuss that when—or if—it comes to it.
I’m still hoping if he agrees to this arrangement, he might change his mind about my husband’s generosity.
“All right,” I concede. “We might need to revisit the specifics of this element again to make sure everyone is happy. But thank you for agreeing to an alternative option.”
He gives me half a shrug but the smile he tries to hide is bashful. “Thank you for offering one. Money can be a touchy subject for me.”
I’m dying to explore that further, but this isn’t really the time or place. So I file the thought away before proceeding with my last stipulation.
“Finally,” I say, appreciating that I’ve bombarded him with a lot of information in a short amount of time.
“If we go ahead, I will ask you to sign an NDA agreement. What we do in the comfort of our own home is both private and sacred to me and my husband. However, there is a specific clause that states if anything illegal takes place, you will obviously be free to bring the matter to the authorities.” I reach out and squeeze Oliver’s hand in mine.
“The purpose of this document will be to protect all of us, not just August and I.”
“Oh, wow,” Oliver says thoughtfully. “That’s pretty serious. But I guess it makes sense. Can I read it before I sign?”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “You should never sign anything without reading it thoroughly, Oliver,” I tell him firmly. “I can give you the contract right now, and you can have a lawyer look it over if you so wish.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Of course.” I know he’s just na?ve, so I try not to be offended that he’d think I’d try and screw him over in any way. In fact, he could possibly do with being a little more savvy from what I can tell so far.
Reluctantly, I release his hand and reach into the briefcase by my feet to retrieve the document.
“Take your time going over it,” I urge him. “You can message me whenever you’re ready. However…I would ask that no matter what happens, please don’t publicize what we’ve discussed. A lot of people don’t understand kink, and I would hate for my husband’s reputation to be in jeopardy.”
“Or yours,” Oliver adds earnestly.
In that moment, I’m fairly confident we won’t have anything to worry about.
As much as I don’t want to let this little treat out of my sight, that’s our cue to gather our belongings and go our separate ways for the time being.
It’s Tuesday, so we agree that he’ll give me an answer by tomorrow evening at the latest so we can have everything arranged for Friday afternoon when my Augie Pie returns home.
That won’t leave me enough time to organize an alternative if he turns me down. But as it stands, if I can’t have Oliver Carver, I don’t want anyone else.
So it’s a good thing that by the time I’m sipping on red wine that evening, he messages with a photo of the signed contract.
My relief is so strong, it’s almost startling. I’m not sure what I would have done if this morsel had slipped through my fingers.
Now I get to give my beloved the best birthday gift ever.