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I’d need to give him the grand tour of my home this evening. He’d only seen the playroom, and had no idea it’s this sort-of-castle-looking manse behind twelve-foot walls.

When my ab muscles wouldn’t let me do another crunch, I went outside and sprinted back and forth. It works better for me to count every time I turn around, so I made it to ten before I came back inside and started with push-ups.

* * * *

Davy

Is it wrong that I was disappointed the contract wasn’t strict enough? I felt like I needed to make some changes, but nothing stood out. Everything was as we’d discussed.

Imagine my surprise when Will pulled a nine-inch-wide tube-shaped device he told me was a printer from his laptop bag when I told him I didn’t have any changes. He didn’t even have to plug it in, just turned it on and then went to the laptop and told it to print.

“We will each write our first initial on every sheet, but legally, it’s best we don’t sign our names. I will never give anyone a reason to try to have me declared mentally incompetent. It’s been done to other performers, so they lost the ability to handle their own finances, their business career, the kind of music they perform.”

I’d never considered that, but it made sense. Mostly, I was remaining silent until I could call him Master and Sir. I wanted to go to my knees and worship him, but we were supposed to still be equals.

“After we print this out and initial it, I’ll be leaving in the McLaren with one of my security guys. The other will bring you to me. I know you thought you’d be driving to my house, but we don’t want someone seeing your car coming and going from the property. All they have to do is look up your license plate and they’ll have your name. So, you’ll have a driver bringing you to me and back to work. Today, Ranger will open the garage for you, and you know the rules from there. Anything on the shelf where you put your clothes should be put on you or in you once you disrobe. The door going into the house will be unlocked, and the door to the playroom will be open. Stand in inspection pose over the grate and wait for me.”

The contract was three pages long, and when the third page started printing, he said, “This thermal paper says it lasts seven years, but I find it starts to fade at around four or five years. Or the stuff I used four or five years ago does. Maybe this is better. Either way, we’ll sign a long-term one well before then, and we’ll print it on normal paper. This is your copy. I’ll have another copy in the playroom so we can reference it, and as I said before, your rules will be posted on the wall.”

He glanced over all three sheets, wrote a W on the bottom corner of each, and then pushed them towards me and handed me the pen. I wrote a D on all three, then glanced over them, and looked at him in expectation. Surely he’d dosomethingto memorialize the moment?

“Who am I, slave?”

“Master, Sir. You’re my Master.”

“I am. Put some jeans and a shirt on, and whatever shoes or boots you want, and then go outside. If you need to pack a bag for whatever you’ll need for the next week or so at work, do so. If you need any toiletries I won’t have — special soap or shampoo or whatever — those should be packed in a disposable grocery store bag. I assume you have at least one?”

“I do, Master.”

“Leave both in the garage. My house manager will retrieve your toiletries and take them to my bathroom. You’ll be in disguise over the weekend, and the security team will provide your clothes and probably shoes. Bring some sneakers in case those will work with whatever they come up with. You already know I’ve provided a toothbrush and comb. Is there something I’m missing?”

“Can I shower before I come to you, Master?”

“No. Anything else?”

“I can’t think of anything, Master.”

“What do your rules say about touching yourself?”

“Only as much as needed to shower and clean myself, Master.”

And with that, he turned and left, which was both disappointing and exciting. He didn’t have to explain himself to his slave. He could issue orders and leave since I was his property, but he’d have had to do more for a boyfriend.

And my dick was granite hard, throbbing in time to my elevated heart rate. I wanted to palm it, even if I couldn’t jack off, but the rules weren’t just that I couldn’t masturbate, but that I couldn’t touch it more than necessary to keep it clean.

I got a Walmart bag from my kitchen, climbed my ladder, changed clothes, packed what I needed in a duffel, tossed the bag down so it landed on the loveseat, and then put my soap and shampoo into the plastic bag, looped it over my wrist, and made my way down the ladder.

I’d taken my work boots off at the shop before I showered and then wore my sneakers here, and I’d probably keep doing that, so I’d make sure I had them at work. It meant I could wear the sneakers and only needed to pack enough clothes for work. I keep some extra shirts and a clean pair of jeans in my locker, but mostly, I change at home.

I supposed I’d be dressing for work in Will’s garage a whole lot.

* * * *

Will

Davy was magnificent, standing in the center of my playroom. He didn’t know it, but he’d be doing some damned painful ab work on a schedule, and the boy would have ripped abs in a few months. It’s important to me to find someone who can eroticize exercise, because I love using a whip or cane to ensure a few more reps than my slave feels is possible.

But now, even before I’d had a chance to do a little sculpting, he was near perfection. He was small, sure, but perhaps compact is a better word. Davy works for a living, and his sinewy muscles tell a story of youth and vitality. His hair was fashionably cut, but I knew from Ghost that Keisha cut his hair for him, or sometimes one of the biker’s ol’ladies. It’d seemed an oddity, at first. This young man who appears so oblivious to fashion, and who pinched his pennies — it’d felt inconsistent that he’d spring for an expensive, stylish cut.