From Play To Service

S

Synthetic Seraph

Guest
Original poster
(( http://eddiechin.deviantart.com/art/Sexy-Male-Pinup-Art-Muscle-Hunk-Too-Fierce-278514678 ))

Harry Montagu closed his beat-up Ford's side door with a hip bump, the first of a handful of boxes in his arms. In rumpled jeans, tee shirt and sneakers he marched to the front door and likewise knocked with an elbow flapping like a chicken wing rather than set his load down. Instead of just a few raps he kept up a peppy drum beat until his host answered - not impatient, just feeling a good vibe and spreading it around.

With four weeks of not working or getting callbacks on interviews, Harry could be in a worse position. Better a "24/7 lifestyle slave" in his dom's house than second childhood in a relative's house in the middle of nowhere, as all his friends had their boyfriend or girlfriend put their foot down on him crashing a couch, or were practically freeloaders already pooling what they could to get by. It had been a heck of a packing and moving party though, saying goodbye to his place while Harry still had the cash to move and get a couple months ahead on a storage unit to keep his furniture and non-essentials. But though those buds had been good enough to load up a truck and fill his 8x8', he'd not invited a single one here. Not only did they seem like a bunch of clowns compared to his mature, dignified dom. Having them barge around the same space as the man's dungeon, where their roles would cross from topping at clubs and private parties to the more serious master level, instinctively seemed like sacrilege - like trespassing at an altar.

Just a question or two. When he'd half-jokingly offered to be a slave in exchange for a place to stay, that pretty much meant scene play and helping out around the place... right? And how much did he still have to learn about his dom compared to getting to know him at meetups?
 
((http://starlitsea.net/eyecandy/chiga.jpg and http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yB06YQJQF...AAATo/3uwgoEHHtGk/s1600/Chiga.full.135481.jpg ))

Aron sat at his desk, looking over some paper work, a glass next to him that had a splash of whiskey in it that he reached for and brought to his lips, taking a sip. He had his glasses on, which he usually only wore at home. He was more comfortable with them then his contacts, which he used only when he went to the office and to the play house. He had his own dungeon in his house so he only went since he would be allowed to have different slaves, but by far he liked Harry the most. He smiled to himself, licking his lips at the thought of having the boy there with him everyday. He had warned Harry that he would have his work cut out for him while he lived there with him. He was insatiable when they got together but imagine if Aron had access to his slave all the time.

He sighed to himself happily before he heard the constant knocking. He knew it was Harry, since the boy had a quirky sense of himself, when he wasn't gagged, writhing in pleasure. He got up, leaving his office and walking down the stairs to the front door. He opened it and smiled seeing Harry there. "Hello Harry. Please come in," he said, moving aside and letting Harry into the house. He looked at Harry as he came in. "Is that all? Or do you have more in the trunk of your car?" he asked. He would help Harry with his things. He usually never spoke to Harry, except for a few minutes before and after their fun.
 
He blinked and craned his head back as far as it would go, taking in an unabashed eyeful of the change with Aron's glasses. "You've always been a cool one. ((in the sense of chilly, showing few emotions. Neat pics btw.)) But stereotype or not, those make you look like the mastermind who's got allllll the angles covered," he chirped. And a shrug followed to answer the direct question. "There are four more, using the backseat too. Kinda makes a tower all in one corner if that's all I get. You might like some of it. It's not like I picture you playing video games or me wasting much time on that, but the doujinshis might catch your eye - graphic novels, you know?" He hefted his arms more solidly under the box's weight that had started to shift, but before asking about his space Harry glanced around the interior modestly avoiding his dom's eye. "I know I said it a lot when you agreed, but here it is again now that it's official - thank you. Seriously."
 
Aron smiled at that. It was his signature smile, one that he used to either make some shiver with pleasure or fear. "Well, glasses are much more comfortable for me. Come, I'll show you to your room," he said smiling to him. He closed the door and walked up the stairs. He listened to Harry and chuckled. "I don't really like graphic novels, but I could give them a try," he said softly. walking down the hall to the last door. He opened it and revealed a large, barely decorated room. It had a full sized bed, a book shelf, a dresser and a chair. He moved out of the door way and let Harry in. "You can change anything you like, even bring any furniture you might want. You have your own closet and bathroom," he said motioning to the two other doors. He walked away a moment, letting Harry set his box down. "And again, its no problem," he said when Harry thanked him, for the tenth time.
 
Aron's smile did earn a "someone walked over my grave" ripple from the beefy brunet. He climbed the stairs not even remembering the last time he'd been in a grand, traditional house instead of crammed nooks. At his room, all for him and not a chunk carved out of some den or living room, he let out a long whistle. "Awesome. With a spot like this to offer, you could have been the sugar daddy of anybody you want." Becoming lax in formality with the normal environment, that bright but bold attitude had been part of Montegu's appeal - just enough spunk to make both sides feel like Harry'd rightfully earned his sizzling punishment before a typical playdate's scene, with actual corrections dished out as needed, or aforementioned writhing pleasure making the big man putty in Aron's hands.

The plastic tote box was set down with an "Oomph" off to the side, a head tilt crossing back and forth between treating the room like an untouchable hotel and spruced up replica of his bachelor pad. "This won't be long!" And with that he was down the stairs in a swift stampede to take care of this first chore.
 
Aron chuckled and went down at his own pace, watching Harry run out of the house to his car. He followed him and took a box with him and up to Harry's room. He left it with the other box and then went back down, grabbing the next box and doing the same thing. He had no issue carrying the boxes and he just carried them to Harry's room. "So do you want to have lunch with me before unpacking," he said.
 
The young man finished up with the pair of adjustable-weight dumbbells that had rolled to the deep end of the trunk. With his chest not blocked by a plastic tote, his tee read "Around here, barbell is not a piercing" with a toon hefting a six foot iron bar and brontosaurus-sized plates. In truth the new resident was aghast that his dom had taken over and his absolute opposite of poker face showed. "Actually, I'd like to - nah. Lunch is fine. What are you into, and if I'm lucky it's something I already know how to make."
 
"I thought ordering something would be better, don't want you too tired for tonight," he said smirking to Harry as he sat down on the sofa, looking at him. He had such sexy and pleasurable plans for Harry. He'd hope that he would be up for it. Aron usually held back but he wouldn't have too since Harry lived with him now.
 
"Sure thing, chief." The brunet agreed a little too readily, made three steps towards the kitchen where his own menus would be stuck to the refrigerator, then turned around. He sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa. "Actually, something's kinda driving me crazy." His hands went into his lap. "The suspense is like... having two thirds of a scratchoff match and not knowing what the third piece is going to be. You're so laid back about this.... Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I'm not, hmmm, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush or something. But I'd kinda like to know, well... what YOU expect."
 
"I expect you to be my room mate. When I ask you to go with me to the playroom, thats where I want you to be my slave, but over all, I just want you to ask me before having friends over or having a party," he said shrugging. "And if you could just keep the house clean then I'll be happy. I work from home, but I spend most of the day in my office so I don't have much time to clean," he added looking at Harry.
 
"Yeowza." Harry let all his breath out in a sigh that slumped him forward until his forehead touched the coffee table. He even let it stick a minute. "It's like finding out Elvira isn't actually into ghoulish creature-of-the-night stuff off the set either," he sighed when he picked himself back up. The uke had learned quite a bit since finding the leather lifestyle, but obviously not that much if he hadn't figured out folk had a time and place for vanilla. "I guess part of me wasn't really sure I'd be let off the hook that easy. Roommates. Buddies," he confirmed with a skeptic look. Then that spirit bubbled back up, irrepressible. "A buddy who could totally beat my ass three shades of blue with black sprinkles thrown in," he grinned, head bobbing to a tempo playing only in his head.
 
Aron shrugged as he looked at Harry. He enjoyed how bubbly he was. "Well all you really need to do is keep the kitchen and bathrooms clean. I clean the house on Saturdays every week so thats nothing to worry about," he said shrugging. "So what do you want for lunch?" he asked him softly. He smirked at the black and blue comment, thinking to himself how many times he had had to gag Harry because he wouldn't stop talking.
 
(( Rofl for real at that last line. ))
Harry tried to keep that reminder straight, but honestly he'd have to watch his step not to get complacent the way he'd only clean when expecting company - and decent company, at that. "I dunno, but a guy could get used to this. Maybe sushi, Mexican nachos, finger food. Or something that goes good on a buffet. Remember Rosemary's?"

It had been a side presentation at a fetish night, a human dessert bar laid out on a table with a recess for a human to lie in almost hammock-like leather straps with the regular rectangular wood around her outline. That time it had been a girl and a switch, starting out with brownie bites, whipped cream and other delectables in the shape of a corset upon her. Of course Harry wasn't even bi enough to go for that but picked off a morsel or two with fingertips careful not to touch. And had a nice chat with the pal in between others licking her naked.

Yeah, yeah, they were supposed to be casual. But now that he'd gotten acclimated, even being next to his dom was giving Harry ideas.
 
Harry chuckled and nodded his head. "I remember that. I had fun at that party, although I wish they had another boy out. The one they had squirmed too much and it annoyed me," he said shrugging. "I'll order us some sushi then. Crab roll, Unagi and dragon, right?" he asked, remembering the time he went with Harry to the sushi dungeon. He remember Harry liked three kinds of sushi the most.
 
"Mmm hmm. So we could try that out. Or you can decide whether you wanna have me feed you or be a buffet when it gets here," Harry offered. He himself hadn't taken a turn doing either of those, but first time for everything. Some of his firsts belonged to other play partners and demonstrators, but so many lied in Aron's hands. As Harry thought of exactly which firsts belonged on that list he rolled his shoulders and stretched in his seat, unconsciously becoming warmed up in more ways than one.
 
"Hmm... that sounds like fun," he sad smiling at Harry before he stood up. He went to the kitchen to get the number to the sushi place and he called them, ordering a few things other then just those three. He also ordered three orders of Kani salad since he liked having it for lunch they day after he ordered it. He said goodbye and then hung up. He went back to the living room and sat down. He had never told anyone, but he had been a slave at one point. A private one but one none the less. He learned so much from his dom but in reality he had always wanted to be a dom and when his dom let him go, he began working hard and became a very good, high revered dom. He was good at what he did, with men or women, although he preferred men.
 
The large sub took the speaking time to roam the living room and take in the various personal touches. In all ways the personal side of his master fascinated him, like a real backstage bonus clip from a movie. When Aron was finished up he'd find the hunky brunet swiveling at his footsteps and eagerly inquiring about this or that curio.
 
"It should be here in 30 minutes," he said smiling. "So how has the job hunting been going?" he asked Harry, sitting back down in his chair. He had an odd way being. It was scary but sexy at the same time and even his clothing, which was just a pair of black slacks, and a white dress shirt,he still had that effect.
 
Harry Montegu scowled a black cloud in guilty embarrassment. Any outsider looking at only pictures of the pair of them without their personalities showing, would imagine the larger man simply flicking the slim blond aside during a disagreement. Harry would testify to anyone, including phobic or vanilla, the score of reasons why that did not happen. Sometimes it was the way Aron captivated a room, with multiple players held in his attention let alone the effect when he actually spoke to you. Or how Harry fell under his spell thanks to ecstatic shudders and full-body afterglow even at the times Aron put him through only beatings alone, a rush not unlike the endorphin high after workout. This time he fell to Aron's leadership for the stewing gut twist his simple chilly voice could produce.

"Less than basement-level success, even. People aren't even paying for gym memberships let alone personal trainer sessions. I even applied outside the county, lowered myself into interviews for shelf stocker jobs, anything. And yes, I went in an outfit... pretty much like yours, actually," he acknowledged his rumpled slacker duds of the day. "The most recent applications still have a chance and I'm going to be busy filling out more, but... whenever I do get picked up, there's up to two weeks for the first check to come, so it's going to be a while even if everything turns to smooth sailing tomorrow." He shuffled his feet ruefully. "And more than that, I liked what I was doing, y'know? The amount of clients who made me their personal fave didn't help me any, and now I don't get to cheer them on anymore."
 
Aron watched him and frowned. "Where was it that you worked before? I think I might have a chat with the owner," he said smirking evilly Harry knew what he meant by a chat and it did not take him long to get someone worshiping him. He could get Harry his job back, if he really wanted it back. "You never really told me about your job. We usually just got to the fun," he said looking at Harry as he stood there. He knew it was rough out there but his business was booming. He had more work coming in everyday and had to expand and make two more buildings in other states since people were really into his work. He owned a large trading company that traded in everything, from toys to guns.
 
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