Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Davy
Will was saying all the right things — understanding why I couldn’t talk to him about Bubbles, cutting himself off since he was driving, and telling me he wasn’t making assurances about our future. Saying he’s interested but that’s all he can promise until we spend more time together struck me as more caring and honest than anything I was used to from other men.
Bubbles had been clear from the start that he wasn’t into men other than for what we could do for him physically. It’d been my fault I’d started imagining he liked me for more than two holes to fuck, a gofer when he needed something, and some companionship. He’d never lied to me, and he’d been kind when he wasn’t fucking me. Even then, when he’d only been interested in getting off, he’d made sure I had enough oxygen while he was fucking my face and throat.
Maybe it was because my first real experiences were with someone fucking me without regard to my feelings or pain levels, that’s what it took now to get me off. The ‘kind’ Masters Razor had introduced me to hadn’t done it for me. It was the ones Matty had found, the ones who fucked me with cruel intentions, who got me off. All of them took care of me after, and made sure I got home safe, but the actual scenes had been fantastically horrible.
“What I want, long term, it’s kind of a contradiction, because I need to be treated like a slave without feelings during scenes, but I want an actual relationship outside of scenes. I need to matter to someone, and I have no idea how anyone’s going to make that work in real life. Maybe it’s just a fantasy? I don’t know.”
“I’ve found maintenance to be an important part of any long-term relationship with an s-type.”
I had no idea what he meant by s-type, and it must’ve shown, because he said, “Slave, submissive, bottom, pet, property, even littles, though I’m not interested in that particular kink.”
“Matty calls Razor Daddy , but I don’t think Matty is a little.”
“Let’s work back to that later, if it’s okay. I wanted to talk about maintenance, and why I feel it’s so important. I think it might help you understand how we can work within your fantasy.”
I nodded, and he said, “If you become mine, you’ll have to answer verbally in that kind of situation. I’m not asking for it now, just trying to show you a little of what I’ll expect, and that brings us to things like punishment and maintenance. Let me be clear that I’m a busy guy at times, and I have a lot of downtime other times, but no matter which, I don’t appreciate having to stop whatever I’m doing to punish my property. Punishments are harsh, and the rule is if you safeword during punishment then you leave for at least a week, and possibly forever, depending on the rule that was broken and the reason for safewording. For true injury, which has never happened, there won’t be repercussions. However, if you thought injury was happening but it wasn’t, you can probably return in a week, if it just hurt and you knew you weren’t being injured? Maybe not. The first month or two, when you’re getting used to the rules, this isn’t in play, but once you settle in and know the rules, it absolutely is.
“And one of the ways I keep from having to punish my property is by regularly scheduled maintenance. I once had someone on a twice-per-week schedule, while another slave was on a once-per-month schedule. When I was home, it was the first Monday of every month. He traveled with me, and when we were on the road, we’d sometimes need to move it a day or two backwards or forwards, but we kept it pretty close. Maintenance is when punishment-type activities happen, but at about eighty percent of what a true punishment would be, and without me being displeased with you.”
He stopped talking and sat back, and I just started talking without thinking, because this was too hard to get out any other way.
“My first Master called it punishment, but I’ve learned most Masters consider what he did abuse. He’d punch me with his fists, throw me to the ground and kick me around. He broke my ribs once and they took forever to heal. Sometimes punishment was with a whip or cane, but then sometimes he’d just go off on me without any control. I’ll never accept that again, now that I know it isn’t part of the lifestyle.”
“A promise.” He met my gaze with those oh-so-intense blue eyes. Not quite as brilliant as they’d been in the sunshine, but still stunning even in the subdued lighting. “I’ll never allow anger to intrude on punishment. A Master, by definition, is in control at all times. If I’m too mad to trust myself to punish you, it means I need to step back and figure things out. Either calm down and handle it later, or go out of power exchange so we can discuss the problem as a relationship issue outside of kink.”
I appreciated the promise, and a little piece of me relaxed inside. He could be lying, but Bash had been clear I was safe with him, and that made me trust Will a little more. I took a sip of my beer and organized my thoughts. “My second Master was clear on my punishments. He talked to me about what I did wrong, told me the punishment, and then did whatever it was. He never allowed me to speak at all during punishments, but if something was wrong when he was using me, I was allowed to tell him so long as it was truly a problem. Once my knee jammed into the bedframe when he was fucking my ass, and I just said “Knee. Knee. Knee.” And he stopped and checked it out. He moved me to my back with my legs in the air to finish. It was mostly okay by the next morning, but if he’d kept going, I don’t think it would’ve been.”
“I’m glad you’ve had a Master who showed some caring, so you know that’s the ideal.”
I nodded. “I think you’re right, that maintenance might give me what I need, even if regular scenes don’t. I’ll try hard to follow the rules so you don’t have to punish me.”
“Oh, there’ll almost certainly be a learning curve to start, and you’ll likely need to be punished enough in your first weeks with me, you’ll avoid it for the pain and not just because you don’t want to be bad, but there’s more to explain. I follow the boot-camp method, and that means once we decide things are serious enough for a long-term contract, once you move in with me and give up your own place, I’ll put you through a boot-camp type scenario, where you don’t get a whole lot of sleep and life is just plain rough until we get through it. A wake-up spanking, and then you’ll fix breakfast for us, and the day will proceed per a schedule that will have you hard most of the day, and any orgasms you get will be earned by going above and beyond what is expected. We’ll work out together, you’ll do a lot of housework, shopping, and other things you’ll be expected to manage for me. Having a slave means my house manager doesn’t need to be on premises as often, and it means I won’t need to have someone come in and clean every other day. Since you wish to continue to work outside the home, we’ll have to figure out how much you can do for me, and how much I’ll continue to hire others to do, but it’s my belief that people who are important need to feel as if they’re part of the household, and having jobs that keep the household running is a sure-fire way to do that.”
“It’s important I have a way to leave, and that means holding down a job. I never again want to be in a position where I have no way out.”
“I have friends who have a slave. Not super-close friends, but close enough I know a little about how their household runs. It’s a four-person poly group with two Doms, a submissive, and a slave. The slave works from home and earns an impressive income, but he doesn’t have access to his funds. They go into an account he jointly owns with the others, and as soon as the funds go in, they transfer into an account he isn’t on. He has access to another account with enough money for him to get an apartment and then living expenses for about a year, but if he ever touches even a penny of it, it means he wants to leave them. If he wants money for something, anything , he has to ask them for it. When he was still in college, he got a cash allowance so he could get lunch and buy gas. Any clothes purchases, one of his Masters goes with him and pays, but only for what they like, of course.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can see how that would work. My need for the ability to leave seems at odds with being a total slave, and some version of that could work. The thing is, I really enjoy my job, and I don’t think I want to give it up. Plus, the bikers kind of need me. I couldn’t leave without giving them probably a six or eight month notice. I mean, I could legally, but not morally, you know? They took care of me when I so badly needed help, at first. I can’t leave them in the lurch, and I know they’ve promised work out months in advance, expecting I’ll be there to do it.”
“Exactly as it should be, and the fact is, there are times you may not see me more than a few hours a day when I crash for short naps. When I’m busy composing, it’s kind of a manic thing, and I might call you in for a blow job or to bend over, but it won’t be a scene. Sex stuff won’t happen much when I’m like that, but if the composing isn’t working, sometimes draining everything helps it get back on track. Once the song is put together, things’ll go back to normal. So, a few times a year, sometimes more, you’ll have to accept that I’m off-limits and must be left alone, and not much talking if I call you to me, just do as you’re told and keep your mouth shut.”
I nodded because it made sense, so if it didn’t happen often, I’d live with it. Plus, it seemed kind of hot from a slave perspective, but only because it was an occasional thing. I’d never let myself be treated horribly all the time again. I wanted to be a slave, property, owned , but I also wanted to be a beloved slave.
“And then the whole band gets together,” Will said, “and does something similar when we polish new stuff and decide what gets made public, and how we’ll showboat each song on video and on stage, but that’s different. We work until we need a break, so there isn’t a schedule, but you’ll be able to talk to us and shit when we break. It’s a different kind of creative process, and maybe I’ll take you behind closed doors and work some stress off, or maybe we’ll all hang out together.”
He paused and leaned back again, which told me he was going to ask another forward question, and he didn’t want to be too aggressive when he asked it.
“Have you ever been used in front of others?”
I nodded. “My first Master made me blow him during meetings with his top people. Sometimes, if one of them did something really good, he’d lend me to them for the night, or for a couple of hours. When the higher-up people came to town, I had to go around the room and blow everyone, and he loaned me out to one of the head guys the whole night. They only came for a big meeting twice while I was with him, and other than sex stuff, he mostly kept me away from them, thankfully. I think they scared him, too.”
Bubbles had loaned me out when he needed to make a deal with someone, but he’d made dire threats to them about what would happen if I wasn’t returned in pristine condition. I couldn’t tell that to Will, though. Nothing about Bubbles until I could talk to him, and maybe nothing even after we talked.
“Okay,” Will said. “We’ll have to see how things go. I may want blow jobs in front of people, but maybe not. I may want you to blow people I’m close to, and maybe give up your ass to them, but I can’t say for sure until…” He shrugged. “It’ll be something we can discuss before we develop a long-term contract, if we get that far.”
I nodded. It was part of being owned by someone. If you own a car, you can loan it to a friend. I wanted to be owned.
“Yes, Sir. If you truly own something, you can lend it, but…” I shrugged. “If you value it, you only loan it out to people you know won’t trash it.”
“Exactly right. Finish your beer and we’ll go.”
I downed the rest, settled the bottle back on the table since I hadn’t poured it into the fancy beer glass, and met his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”
He nodded and stood, waited for me to do the same, and then grasped my bicep and walked me out the same side door we’d come in. He hadn’t paid, so I assumed his assistant took care of that for him as well.
“Normally, I’d open your door and put you in, but I’m not in disguise and it seems best we just get in and go.”
Once we were in and on the way, I told him, “No one’s ever opened a door for me. It isn’t necessary.”
“And yet, if I tell you to wait for me, you’ll do so. Unzip and pull your cock out. Leave your jeans in place so you can zip back up if necessary, but I’d like you to give yourself a super-slow handjob in the seven or so minutes it’ll take us to get to my place.”
My cock was rock hard, so it took a little finagling to get it past the zipper without injury, but I obeyed without hesitating or arguing. I’d called him Sir several times already, so it’d be insane to refuse a simple direct order.
And then he pulled into one of those big box drug stores and pulled a twenty from his wallet. “Get whatever condoms we need and return to me. Zip up before you open the car door.”
Easier said than done, but I managed to get my dick back inside and everything put back together enough I could get out of the car.
There wasn’t a line, thankfully, so I was in and out in no time. I didn’t know what to do with the change, so I put it in the bag with the condoms. When I returned, he’d turned the car around so he was backed into the parking spot. It caught me off guard a little, but I didn’t mention it when I slid back into the car.
Will waited for me to fasten my seatbelt before telling me, “Dick back out. As you were.”
He pulled out of the parking spot while I followed orders, and then smoothly pulled back out onto the road. The Stingray was sweet .
“You’ll undress in the garage, fold your clothes, and put them on the shelving unit by the door going into the house. Today, we’ll have to go to the playroom before I can plug you, but in the future, if you aren’t plugged when you arrive, you’ll insert whatever plug you find waiting for you before you enter. My house has fantastic views of the city, which means I’ve had to pay someone to put special windows in, so we can see out but no one can see in. A few rooms have film on the windows instead, because they’re odd-shaped and original, and the interior designer wouldn’t hear of replacing the glass, but every window in the house has been treated so people can’t see in. You’ll find I value my privacy as Will, but I’m open to the public as Lord Byron.”
“If we work out, where will I fit into that, Sir?”
“Much will depend on what you’re comfortable with, but no one will know about you unless you sign a contract and move in with me. At that point, if you’re comfortable in the public eye, you can certainly be there as my boyfriend, but no one needs to know the specifics of our relationship.”
“And if you don’t think I’m comfortable with it?”
“Smart boy. I’m good either way. Most fans prefer me single so they can fantasize about me falling in love with them. Some fans enjoy watching me in a relationship, so they can fantasize about what it must be like to be someone I adore. Honestly, however we decide is best will be fine. I travel with a lot of people, and mixing you up with them will keep you out of the spotlight if you want to travel with me some. Or, if you want to be front and center holding my hand, that’s fine, too. Those are decisions for later, if we get there.”
I nodded and kept palming my cock. The thing is, my dick is probably normal-sized or slightly larger, but I’m a little guy, so it looks bigger on me.
“How sensitive are your balls?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but I answered as best I could. “I don’t mind a little abuse to my cock, but I can’t stand having my balls messed with, which is probably why my second Master chose to punish them so often when I didn’t obey fast enough, Sir.” Or when I did something gullible.
“I quite enjoy dishing out cock and ball torture, so I’m happy with that answer since it’ll make torturing them even more fun. I’m more about weights and pressure than beating them, so perhaps we’ll save that for maintenance and punishments. We’ll have to see how things go. What time do you need to be at work in the morning, and how long will it take you to get ready? Also, will you need to go home, or can I take you straight to work?”
“I have some clothes at work, so I can go straight there. I’ll need to be there around seven-thirty so I can have something ready for someone to pick up tomorrow evening. As long as I have things ready when promised, Bash doesn’t really care when I arrive and leave.”
“I have eggs, bacon, sausage, and frozen biscuits. Lots of frozen stuff — pancakes, waffles, low-carb breakfast bowls, bacon, sausage. Sometimes I need carbs, sometimes I have to go without, so I have lots of both kinds of food in the freezer. For the fresh stuff like eggs and fruit, people have to shop for me before I arrive home.”
“I don’t eat breakfast. I get a big discount on food at the MC’s restaurant, so I usually eat lunch and dinner there. I don’t have much food at home. Mostly snack stuff. I can be up and out in ten minutes, Sir. Enough time for a quick shower, and then to put my clothes back on in the garage.”
And how hot was that? Having to dress and undress in the garage because I wasn’t allowed clothes inside? Damn , it was hard keeping my hand to a slow handjob.
He handed me his phone. “Set my alarm for whenever you need to get up. Ten minutes to get ready, and about a ten-minute drive, maybe fifteen with morning traffic? I’m never up that time of day, so I have no idea. Add another fifteen minutes for sex, and you’ll have a job to do in the morning that will take around fifteen minutes. So, set it for an hour before you want to be at work, and then set another alarm for forty-five minutes before you need to be at work, so I’ll know when to stop fucking you.”
I started setting it and he said, “Pay attention to how I’m driving. This is the road that leads to the East Ridge tunnels, but we’ll take a left before we get to them and head up the ridge. I know you can get your phone to show you how, but the roads are at odd angles and they can sneak up on you.”
I had no idea how I was supposed to set an alarm and pay attention, so I watched for the turn and then set the alarm, and looked up when he slowed for the next turn before finishing the second alarm.
I handed his phone back to him, and then noted the name of the road he turned left onto off of South Crest, but I never got to see the house. Trees hid it from view, and then we were in a two-car garage, and he turned the car off as the door came down behind us. Security pulled in beside us, got out, and left the garage before closing their door.
“Stay put so I can get you out.”
It seemed silly, waiting for him to come around and open my door, but I did. I took my seatbelt off while he rounded the front, though.
He opened my door and motioned me out. “I’ll stay out here with you today, but in the future, I’ll go inside and you can come in once you’re naked. You’ll never wear your clothes into the house. If we have guests and I don’t want you naked, I’ll provide either a robe or some shorts for you to wear. Otherwise, you’ll be nude at all times.” He shrugged. “I have backup generators, but if the power’s out and we can’t keep it warm enough, you’ll be allowed a robe and something for your feet. I’m not a monster, but unless there’s a damned good reason you need to be covered, you won’t be.”
I stepped to the shelf he pointed towards, pulled my shirt off, folded it, and set it on the empty space. He wasn’t asking for a striptease, thankfully, because I suck at that. I leaned over to unlace my boots, toed them off, then came my socks, and finally my pants and underwear all at once. I poked my socks into the boots and slid them under the shelf before I folded my pants and put them on my shirt.
Will pointed his finger up and moved it in a little circle, which I took as an order to turn around, so I did, and then I faced him and looked at his belt with my hands by my side.