The movers grabbed the furniture, I grabbed the few boxes I had, and in less than fifteen minutes, they were done. I took a last look at my apartment—my freedom, my independence—and then we headed to Master’s.
For as wealthy as Master was, his house was very nondescript from the outside. It looked like any other suburban home and could have belonged to anybody. I was surprised when the garage door opened and Master stepped outside in his night robe, coffee mug in one hand.
When I got out of the truck, he was waving to his neighbor and saying, “Morning, Jim!”
Just like any other suburban home.
The movers made quick work of my stuff, stacking it tidily on one side of the garage, and then the truck left. The garage door closed, and I was alone with Master.
“All right,” Master said, consulting his phone, skimming through what looked like a hundred entries and mumbling to himself. “Coffee, mm, yeah, meet the movers, yeah, rules, ah ha!” He turned his attention to me. “You’ll have to bear with me, slave,” he said. “I live by a strict schedule, and this has rather upset my typical Monday morning, so I’m not all with it, yet.”
“I’m sorry, Sir—” I began.
“Oh, not to worry, slave; there’ll be plenty more disruptions as we go, I’m sure. But enough about that.” He handed me a sheet of paper. “Here are the rules. Learn them, follow them. Any questions?”
1. Slave shall always address M as “Sir” or “Master”. Master may address Slave however he pleases but will typically call him “slave”.
2. Slave shall wear whatever M tells him to wear. Unless otherwise specified, slave is to be naked when at home and the slave uniform when out of the house. M will show slave the slave uniform.
3. Slave shall perform all household duties, including but not limited to cooking, cleaning, and laundry. M will further explain these to slave.
4. Slave shall obey every command from M without hesitation or complaint unless there is a legitimate safety concern for slave, M, or others. In that case, the slave shall immediately use the safe word, “Safety, Sir!” so that M can review the slave’s concerns. Slave is warned now that M will deal with abuses to this policy harshly.
5. Slave shall offer his sexual services to M upon seeing M anytime it has been at least an hour since the slave has seen M.
6. Slave shall not use the phone, television, or Internet without M’s permission on a case-by-case basis. M expects the slave to devote himself to his chores and to M. Slave may answer the phone if M is not around and take a message for M; however, slave is to limit any incoming calls addressed to slave to one minute or less unless given special permission from M.
7. Slave consents to be disciplined in whatever way M sees fit in case of infraction of these rules. M promises to be compassionate in his discipline and not to inflict permanent harm unless warranted by the severity of the infraction.
8. Slave shall never attempt to escape. The punishment for breaking this rule will be a permanent injury.
9. Slave shall honestly present his concerns to M after requesting and receiving permission to speak freely.
Wow, that’s a lot of rules. Number six in particular was going to be really difficult. I pretty much lived on my phone or the computer when I had free time, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with myself. After all, how long could it possibly take to keep the house clean? It wasn’t even very big. As it turned out, Master was going to keep me very busy indeed.
“They make sense to me now, Sir,” I said, “but what if I have a question later?”
“Just request permission to speak freely and then ask, slave,” Master replied. “I planned them out to be pretty easy. They may change from time to time, but for now, this should be enough of a framework to get us up and running. Do you agree, slave?”
“Good. Then let’s start by you following rule number 2.”
I hadn’t memorized the list, yet, and so I glanced at it, nodded, and stripped down, folding my clothes and putting them on my shoes.
“Those can go over here, slave,” Master said, gesturing to the trash bin.
I began to protest, but I remembered rule number 4 and did as told.
“Good, slave. Let’s go inside.”
I followed him in, feeling pretty self-conscious about being nude while he wore not only his pajamas but his robe, too.
“Remember rule # 5, slave?” M asked.
I glanced at the list and nodded hesitantly. “Yes, Sir,” I said. I felt a hint of anticipation and a bit of nervousness creep into my mind.
“And?” Master asked expectantly.
“I–uh,” I stammered, reddening. “Would you, Sir…would you like me to…?” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.
Master laughed, shook his head, and patted me on the shoulder. “How about we make it easier for you, slave?” he suggested, grinning wickedly. “Since using words has you tongue-tied, how about you use body language instead?”
He beckoned for me to come over and kneel in front of him. Then he took my hand and put it on his crotch.
“Feel that, boy?” he asked. “That’s how I want you to greet me. No words, just kneeling and gently reaching for my cock. Got it?”
I blushed fiercely but nodded.
“Good. Now let’s try again. Stand up, go out into the garage, and walk in. When you see me, do exactly as I showed you.”
I couldn’t believe how humiliating this was! I thanked my lucky stars that at least there was nobody else around to see as I walked into the garage and closed the door behind me.
“Okay, you got this,” I said, exhaling sharply. “Just walk in, kneel, and grab his crotch. You don’t even have to look at his face.”
Having psyched myself up, I opened the door, stepped through—
—and put my hands over my crotch. There was somebody else there talking to Master while Master signed a piece of paper on the bar.
“Slave!” Master said incredulously. “Do not cover yourself, and get over here and do what you were told!”
“But, Sir—” I protested, looking helplessly at the man.
“He’s none of your concern, slave,” Master replied. “As embarrassing situations go, you’ll find this to be the least of them. Now unless you want to be publicly disciplined, I suggest you get to it!”
The man, meanwhile, stared at me in shock and then looked at M, even more shocked.
“Yes, Sir!” I said, jumping, keeping myself covered and nearly running to kneel at his feet and putting my hand on his crotch, my face burning with embarrassment.
“Better, slave,” Master said without looking away from the paperwork he was signing, “but you’re still covering yourself. I desire to see your private parts, now show them to me!’
With a helpless glance at the man, I forced myself to remove the hand covering my crotch. The man just gaped, staring.
“Better, slave,” Master said again. “You may service me.”
“How do I—”
“Unzip my fly, pull my cock out, and begin sucking on it, slave,” Master said airily, his attention still on the contract. “And don’t cover yourself!” he added.
I had never even seen Master’s junk before, and I had no idea what I was in for. But with the man staring me down and offering no assistance while Master was infuriatingly carefree in his instructions, I did as told.
The second I tugged on his zipper, Master’s cock slapped hard against the opening and poked its way out.
My face burning with embarrassment, I sniffed Master’s cock and tentatively licked its uncut tip. It bounced appreciatively, and a little emboldened, I put the tip of it into my mouth and rubbed my tongue on the smooth surface.
“Mmm, good boy,” Master said from above the table. “Service the whole thing, though, not just the tip.”
I pressed my lips further around his cock and felt his foreskin move. I could taste the musk underneath; it was slightly unpleasant but not too bad, and I began to slather my tongue around his sensitive prick.
Master seemed to enjoy my ministrations. I could hear him breathing heavily, and I was pretty certain he’d lost interest in the contract. I began to bob my head on his cock, taking it as deeply into my mouth as his pants would allow.
I felt his prick tense and hover on the edge of orgasm. With an encouraging lick from my tongue on the tip of his prick, it emptied itself into my mouth, and I swallowed it down greedily before pulling back and standing up.
“Slave, what are you doing out here?” Master asked curiously.
“You just—Sir, didn’t you—?” I began.
“That doesn’t give you a reason to stop, slave,” Master said, smiling in amusement and shaking his head. He turned his attention to the man, who grinned. “Thank you, Wally,” he said. “You did great.” He handed him the paperwork, and Wally winked lasciviously at me.
I frowned, confused.
“Wally was here to help you get over your self-consciousness about serving me, slave,” Master said. “And I could practically feel your embarrassment, so he did exactly what I wanted him to do.” He chuckled. “You did well for your first time, slave,” he said. “Next time, just do what I tell you and don’t pay any attention to who’s here. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“And don’t worry about Wally; I promised him that in exchange for his help, he’d get to use your mouth one of these days.”