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“In you go. I’m going to clean up a little better and then I’ll be back.”

This was the first night I spent with Master in a bed without being bound to it, and I missed the comfort of it, but it was also as if I’d moved up a grade. An accomplishment.

Master held me and loved me, and as far as I know, didn’t get off again until the following morning, when he pushed me under the covers — a clear signal he wanted my mouth on his dick. It started out a blow job but ended with me flat on my back getting my throat fucked, but that’s the way itshouldbe, between a Master and his slave.

* * * *

Will

I’d known fisting him would pull us closer together, but the intensity of the scene turned me inside out and scraped every emotion raw. Davy was my boy now. It didn’t matter how new we were, I’d found my boy.

I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to lock him to the bed until the next morning, and I’d have to do better. It’s a symbolism thing with me, but no one I bring home will have free rein in my home until we sign a permanent contract.

The fact I forgot just goes to show how much I trusted Davy so soon.

Chapter 12

Davy

I had the best weekeverwith my new Master. We cooked together, we ate together, and he kept me in a nearly constant state of arousal. He’d have me insert the heavy butt plug with a skinny neck when I got home from work, and then usually fuck my face while I was full of the plug. Hours later, he’d pull the plug out and fuck my ass, and I’d be as tight as ever after squeezing around it so I didn’t lose it.

I went two days without another orgasm after the fisting scene because he fucked me without anything touching my dick even a tiny bit, and I’d getsoclose, but couldn’t quite get there. Finally, I managed, but only because I was so damned horny I couldn’t see straight. I was terrified he wouldn’t allow it when I begged permission, but he relented and allowed it, and then came shortly after I finished. I’m pretty sure my orgasms send him over the top, but I wouldn’t dare mention it to him.

And his house! It’s like this big, huge castle on the outside, and not far from it on the inside. His bedroom is in the biggest turret, and it’s ginormous, with a massive bigger-than-king-sized bed with a fancy metal canopy over it, and lots of tie-off points he assures me will hold me without fucking up his gorgeous bed. The house has seven bedrooms, a library, a workout room, a man cave, a living room, and this music room downstairs with tons of curtains even though there aren’t any windows. Oh, and an inground swimming pool! I’m sure eventually I’ll be able to find all the rooms without getting lost, but for now, I’m good to get from Master’s bedroom to the kitchen, and from the kitchen to the playroom and garage.

It was Friday morning and my asshole was deliciously tender, but not as sore as my abs, because my new Master had all kinds of sadistic exercises designed to probably give me ripped abs sooner rather than later. I’d worked fourteen hours the day before, and Master had fed me and cuddled me last night before rubbing my back until I fell asleep. This morning, he’d paddled my ass, fucked it, and then told me to shower and head to the garage to get dressed. He’d ridden with me to work, though his security people had driven us.

I finished the last job, and that meant I didn’t have to be back to work until Tuesday. This job had been promised for Monday, so I was ahead of schedule and this particular customer was pleased to get his car back earlier than promised. I texted Master I was finished, and then went to the locker room to shower and get ready — and I went to a toilet stall first to put the butt plug in. He’d sent me with a little condiment container of olive oil for lube, and it was one of the stainless plugs with a huge bulb and a tiny neck. He’d never before ordered me to do anything like this at work, but I figured it was okay since my workday was over.

His security people had helped with the disguise two nights before, so I knew what to do. I slicked my hair back with gel, so it looked darker and was away from my face, rather than light brown and kind of fluffy. I’d practiced with the paint crap that went on my eyebrows to make them look darker and bushier, so it looked decent when I did it today, and then the brown eyeliner went on and smudged around my eyes a little.

Next came a large beauty-mark type freckle that I put over the top of a tiny scar I couldn’t remember getting. The security guys said this only worked if I could be certain to put it in the exact same spot every time. Otherwise, multiple pictures of me would show it in a different place, and then they’d start looking for someone who looked like me without the great big freckle.

Apparently, they’re called beauty marks on a woman’s face, but on a man’s face, it’s just a mole or a birthmark. This was mole-sized, but flat, and more brown than black. It showed up, but it wasn’t gross. The security people said people would focus on my glasses and the freckle, and wouldn’t notice much else about me.

I put the glasses on last. They looked like expensive prescription glasses, but it was just the frames with plain blue-blocking lenses.

I hoped to fool the bikers when I came out, expecting to have to tell them who I was, but Bash saw me and knew who I was right away.

“Davy! Excellent disguise! Have fun this weekend. You deserve some time off.”

“You recognized me, so it isn’t that good.”

“I saw you go into the locker room and figured it was about time for you to come out. I know your walk and your body type. It’ll fool people who don’t know you well. I’ll walk you out. We’re down to zero productivity because the entire shop is outside looking at the McLaren. Sweet ride.”

“Yeah, and he got a copy of my driver’s license so he could get me put on the insurance! He thinks I’m going to drive it on part of the Cherohala Skyway!” I was terrified at the prospect.

Bash chuckled. “Lucky you, and that’s the perfect place to drive it. There shouldn’t be much traffic, and very few intersections to worry about. Biggest concern will be wildlife on the road, probably. You’ll be fine.”

I woulddieif I wrecked a two-million-dollar car, but Master didn’t seem to think the cost of the car should matter. When I told him my worries, he’d just said, “Life is short, Davy. Enjoy it while you can.”

I walked out and saw about a dozen people in a circle around the car, but I didn’t see my Master. I looked around the circle again, and then again. Maybe he’d gone inside to look for me? And then someone broke from the circle to walk towards me, and I recognized Master’s smooth-as-silk walk. He was dressed in dark brown pants, a light blue button-down shirt, and a brown-and-blue vest that didn’t really match the shirt or the pants but still looked really good with them. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. He also had a little cap on, with messy dark brown hair spilling out of it. Not long but not really short. Definitely not his hair, though.

It didn’t look anything at all like him, but the body and walk told me who it was — and then he smiled and my heart skipped a few beats. The world went all swimmy, and all I could do was smile back. Bash was still standing beside me, and he leaned in and said, “Does my heart good to see you happy. Have a good weekend, Davy.”

He stepped forward, shook Master’s hand without saying anything, and left the two of us with some privacy. I mean, we were standing in the parking lot, but it was just the two of us together since everyone else was drooling over the car.

“I didn’t recognize you until you started walking.”