Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Davy
I wasn’t a big fan of the Krav Maga classes the first week, or the second week, but things started to click in the third class. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to keep taking the classes, but I might.
At seven weeks after the piercing, I added all the exercises back into my routine, which was actually a relief because I’d had to do so many fucking crunches to make up for not doing the others — on a flat surface, going all directions, left, right, and center. Then on a wedge with my head down low, also going every direction. It was awful.
So, getting back to my usual routine was actually a good thing.
My next trip to see Master was just a three-hour flight, so I left Wednesday after work and flew back late Sunday so I could get back to work Monday.
He had me give Mitch two blow jobs, but they didn’t share me, and he didn’t order me to service any other men.
Also, I was better prepared for Lord Byron after the shows, so it didn’t catch me off guard.
I guess I kind of expected he’d finally let me have an orgasm right away, but he didn’t. He made me kneel and gently beat myself off one morning, but then he just fucked my ass and wouldn’t give me permission to come.
Other than that, things went great Thursday and Friday, but then Saturday night this woman came out of nowhere, and security stopped her before she got to the group, but she was screaming about him not calling her back, and my heart fell into my stomach.
I rode back to the hotel in a different car, since I was with the staff and he was with the band, but the second I made it up to his room, he said, “I’m sorry. I fucked her in my dressing room Wednesday afternoon, after we did the sound checks and got everything dialed in. She works for the arena and came to make sure we didn’t need anything, and basically offered herself to me.” He sighed. “I should’ve talked to her a little more before I fucked her. She’s mentally unstable, but I didn’t see it until after. I try to keep that stuff away from you.” He touched my chin so I had to look at him. “I don’t apologize to my slave for much, but for this, I’m sorry.”
How had he known I was upset? He’d looked at me from ten feet away, had he picked up my feelings from glancing at me? Did he think I was mad because he’d fucked her? Because he’d told me all along he was going to keep fucking women, just no more men. I needed to be sure he understood why I was upset, so I told him, “It just caught me off guard, Master. We’re good. I’d be lying if I said I was okay with it, because it bugs me that you might want me to like someone like her , but I have to trust that when you bring someone home, you’ll do it with everyone’s personalities and wants in mind.”
“I will, and she isn’t even close.”
I wanted to change the subject, so I told him, “I know we talked about me coming to watch your last performance of this tour in Atlanta, but all the bikers are going down, and they haven’t asked, but I know they need people to help keep things running while they’re gone. I’ve seen the show a whole bunch and they haven’t, so would it be okay if I don’t come down?”
He looked at me a few seconds, his face a blank, which I figured meant I’d hurt his feelings, so I gave him the rest of it. “We won’t be able to be together at the after-party. We’ll have to pretend to just be acquaintances. I’d really rather not go at all if I have to hang with Matty and Razor instead of you.”
He nodded. “Yeah, okay. More than one reason to stay home means that’s what you do, I guess. I’ll miss seeing you, but I’ll just have to wait until the next day.”
Overall, things went much better this time, probably because I knew more of what to expect, and I was better prepared to be the slave Master expects.
Two hours before it was time for me to go to the airport, Master had me kneel and jack myself off. He made me edge myself four times, right to the edge, beg and plead for permission, and have it denied so I had to stop. Then back up to the edge all over again. Finally, he gave me permission, and it’d been so long since I came, I spurted all over the place while he was ordering me to catch it in my hand. I managed to catch some of it, but not all of it. Not even most of it. He made me lick it from my hand, but thankfully let me clean the rest of it up with towel.
“Hotels are nasty, so use a towel. No more orgasms until I get home, slave.”
The last thing he told me before I left for the airport was, “When I get home, I expect you to have reached enough of a decision you can get your driver’s license address changed.”
“Yes, Master.”
* * * *
Davy
Micca finally returned about a week after I got home, but she seemed different. Big time different, but Matty said she just had a hard time with whatever happened on the mission, and she’d be back to normal before we knew it.
I wasn’t so certain, but I didn’t argue with him. I ate with them a few times at the restaurant, and I invited both of them to come swim one Saturday, but Micca had something else to do, so Matty came alone, which was fine, and we had fun, but I couldn’t help but think that Micca was almost like a different person. Whatever had happened must’ve been bad squared .
And I couldn’t really put a finger on exactly what was different. She’s always been just an all-around kind person, and that hadn’t changed. It isn’t like she was rude, or harsh. She just seemed different .
Ten days out from Master’s last concert of the tour, Bubbles came to me at work holding an envelope. “You got a letter from Alaska. Do you know who Malcolm Jones is?”
I just stared at him a few seconds before I started hyperventilating. I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t stop it. My breaths kept coming faster and faster, and Bubbles picked me up, sat on a bench, and held me in his lap.
“Breathe, Davy. We don’t have to open the letter if you don’t want to. We can pretend it never came.”
I shook my head and tried to get my breathing under control. Eventually, with Bubbles’ calm voice talking me through when to breathe, I managed, and I told him, “I think it’s from my grandfather, but I’ve never met him. Why would he be writing me?” I grabbed his arm. “You don’t think he knows about me and Will! I’ll just die if someone tries to blackmail Will and get money out of him!”
“Calm down, Davy.” Bubbles has this voice that you just kind of have to listen to. I mean, it isn’t like he can spank me or hurt my balls these days, but the voice still works on me, and I calmed right down.
He grinned. “Maybe I should’ve pulled that out to start. Better?”
I nodded and reached for the envelope. My hands were shaking when I opened it, but I managed okay, and unfolded the sheet of paper inside to see really nice handwriting.
It was in cursive, and I’m not so good at reading cursive, but I managed to make it out okay.
Young David,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and good cheer. I am your father’s father, but I was never allowed to meet you when you were young. I only recently discovered you went into foster care at a young age. If I’d known, I’d have done my best to get guardianship of you so I could bring you to Alaska.
My information tells me you had some difficulty getting started into adulthood, but that you’re holding down a good job now, on your way to a career. I’m pleased to hear it. I’d love to talk to you and get to know you. I wasn’t allowed when you were young, but now the decision is up to you. Your grandmother and I would like to be part of your life in whatever way you’re comfortable with. We can begin with phone calls and maybe video calls. If we want to take the next step, I can pay airfare for you to come to us in Alaska to visit with us.
He listed his phone number, email address, and social media information, and I read through it again while I tried to make sense of it.
He wasn’t writing because of Will. He wrote because he wanted to get to know his grandson. That was completely different, and if it was true that he hadn’t been allowed contact with me when I was young — and it likely was because my parents wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see how malnourished I was — then I couldn’t be too mad at him. Could I?
“What are you going to do?” Bubbles asked.
“I don’t know. I need to think about it.”
“Talk it over with Will. He’ll help you straighten your head out around it.”
I wasn’t going to talk to Will about this while he was dealing with the end of his tour, but I nodded to Bubbles.
“Do you think I can buy a burner phone from Brain, in case I want to call? That way, if I don’t want to go past the phone call, he won’t have my number.”
“I’ll check with him. You okay?”
I nodded. “I am. It just caught me off guard. I can get back to work. Thanks for taking care of me.”
I went back through my memory banks, trying to remember meeting family members. I’d known about my aunt because when I started school after I was in foster care, I’d met someone who told me he was my cousin. I’d always assumed she’d known about me and done nothing, but maybe my parents hadn’t let her see me either? Still, she could’ve taken me in, rather than letting me go into the foster system. She clearly knew about me at that point.
I shook my head and walked back to my station, happy I was measuring and cutting, where it takes every bit of my focus to do my job. If I’d been stitching something, my mind could’ve wandered, and I didn’t want to think about my family.
* * * *
Davy
I called Malcolm Jones the following day, on a burner phone Bash told me I could keep for a few weeks. It had ten hours of time on it, and he told me to feel free to use whatever I needed.
I addressed him as Mister Jones when he answered, and when he’d figured out who I was, he’d told me, “I suppose the title of grandfather must be earned, and I haven’t done that at all, so call me Malcolm. I’m so glad you called.”
We talked for two hours, mostly about me, but I learned a great deal about him and my grandmother, since he put me on speakerphone so I could talk to both of them.
He wanted to set up a time for a video call in the coming days, but I told him, “I need to process this, and I hope you understand. Give me a few weeks, okay? After a lifetime without family, this is going to take some getting used to.”
He hadn’t mentioned wanting money from me, or knowing I’m dating a rich guy. I’d told him I recently started seeing someone and I thought it might be serious, but I didn’t tell him I’m gay because I was terrified he might… What? I don’t know what I was terrified of, but I didn’t tell him I have a boyfriend. He assumed it was a girl, and I didn’t correct him.
I talked to Matty about it, who I guess told Razor, who told Bubbles, who came to me the next day to check in with me. Or hell, maybe Matty told Lexi, who told Bubbles. I adore Matty, but the boy can’t keep a secret to save his life.
No, that isn’t entirely true. He keeps the secrets Razor tells him to keep, but that’s to save his ass.
I didn’t want to admit to Bubbles that I hadn’t told Will yet, but he point-blank asked me what Will thought about it, and before I said a word, he said, “Wait, you haven’t told him?”
I shook my head. “He has too much going on with the end of his tour. It’s less than two weeks and then I can tell him in person.”
“I think it’s a mistake, not telling him, but as long as you seem to be on an even keel, I’ll let this be your decision. If I think you need his input, though, I’ll pick up the phone and call him in a heartbeat.”