“Hey, HEY. Petri, don’t touch him. No. No he’s mine. Just because he used to be a whore doesn’t mean he still is. He belongs to me now, he isn’t group property. If you want someone, go mess with one of Anton’s boys.” “Everyone is going to think he’s one of Anton’s boys.” “Give it a week. Everyone knows if they touch him without my consent he’s going to tell me, and I’ll cut their dicks off. The boy is my pet, leave him be.” Petri rolled his eyes. “If you parade such a pretty thing around here, people are going to assume he’s a whore. It’s dangerous.” “He’s not a whore. He’s my pet. I’ll put a cute collar on him or something.” Petri scoffed. “Like that will help. Where did you find him anyway?” “A brothel.” “Not a whore, huh?” “Nope. A houseboy in a whore house, so to speak.” “You found a houseboy in a whore house?” Petri shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Did it occur to you it may be because he’s not a very good house boy?” “It’s because he got tricked into co-signing a loan someone else defaulted on. He’s actually a good houseboy. I mean, besides how good he is in bed. You know that pedo we killed last week? He got the blood out of my sweater.” Petri looks at the young man. “Did he? You were rather upset about that sweater.” “I was. Looks new. I have no idea how he did it. So I’m keeping him.” Petri considers the boy. “Can he wash stuff for me?” Vlad looks over his shoulder at the boy who nods. “Yeah. But he’s going to charge you.” “Deal.” Vlad chuckled. “Throw me a beer would you?” “Have your houseboy do it!” Petri laughed. Vlad snorted and flipped him off.
Adrian enjoys the paper as he waits the last few minutes for the washer to finish. Sir paid to get his favorite newspaper delivered all the way from France and Adrian reads every copy. It was a kind gesture. Adrian was hesitant to go with Sir abroad, away from everything and everyone familiar, but the idea of being apart from Sir was too painful to process. Although he was homesick at first, Adrian is glad he went. Keeping a house in a foreign country was a refreshing challenge. Any new way to impress Sir is an opportunity he will take.
The washer dings. Chores don’t change though no matter where you live though! Adrian isn’t a huge fan of chores, and yet, he is part of the reason the sheets kept getting dirty. It’s a vicious cycle.
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Craig watched Harrison’s houseboy rinse off after grilling dinner on a humid summer night. “Damn, Harrison, I can’t get over the ass on your boy. Just what a fine specimen.” “Why thank you Craig. I do enjoy having him around, I’ve enjoyed every second of him being in my service.” Jack spoke up. “I admire the restraint you have Harrison, cause I’d spend all day playing with that body of his…or having him sit on my lap while I’m working.” “He can’t get his chores done sitting on my lap, and I would never get any work done with him there anyway.” The other two men chuckled. “Something so satisfying about a good houseboy. Like, society didn’t carve out a place for them, but we knew they are god-given so we carved a place out for them – and they came to us.” Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Are you getting spiritual there Jack?” Craig asked. “Hey if the higher power created houseboys in his own image, I’m going to church more.” Harrison snickered. “Amen to that.” They clinked beer bottles and drank to that. “Mn,” Craig said as an after thought. “Still a fine ass though.” “And the calves.” Jack added. “I like the way his legs are proportioned in kind of an hourglass way.” “Yeah, the taper around the ankles is nice,” Jack agreed.
Harrison spoke up. “I like the way his thigh muscles cut in around the top of his knees, creates nice shadows.” “I like the ripples in his back.” “Shoulders, can’t forget shoulders.” “Mmnhmm.” “And a nice personality too. Just always happy to serve.” Jack this time. “And he does seem to enjoy it. Has a natural knack for it,” Craig piped up. “Makes good coffee. And doesn’t put too much pepper on the eggs.” “Makes real good brownies too.”
“You know what I like right now,” Craig gestured. “Is just how red he is turning. Look at his ears.” Harrison laughed. “What’s that you say? He can hear us?” Well, aren’t we fools gentlemen. Don’t you all know not to flatter your houseboys? Goes to their heads is does. Turns em into divas.” Craig put his empty bottle down. “We have made a grievous sin. Still. I stand by my first argument: that ass is fine.” There was a chorus of “mmhmms” and head nods. “You should be done rinsing off, boy. Turn off the water, and grab Craig another beer,” Harrison instructed. “Y-yes Sir.” The young man turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He did have quite a red face.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Craig said. “What?” asked Jack. “We never talked about the front.”
The houseboy shot Craig a look of exasperation, which made them all laugh. After he got the men a refill of beer, Harrison crooked his finger and the young man curled up on his lap, safe his Master’s arms. When Jack and Craig got into a side conversation about something, Harrison took that moment to whisper in his boy’s ear. “You know, all those things we said were true.” It was delightful to see the houseboy start blushing all over again.
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“All of it?” “Yep. All of it. I’m washing all your clothes because ALL of them smell like mildew. Your washer had a drainage issue I fixed, and you had too much lint in the dryer. You haven’t had clean clothes for a while now. So everything you’re wearing comes off.” “Wait. You came over here to help organize my house. What do you mean you ‘fixed the washing machine?’“ “Listen, a houseboy does not do job half assed. I can’t organize your closet if your clothing smells like mildew, and I can’t donate stuff that isn’t clean either. I start from the 2nd floor down. I already organized your linen closet and bathroom, and now that you’re home we can finish the master bedroom.”
Jeremy stared at Anthony. He worked for Jeremy’s friend Steve…he’d heard what a bossy little thing he could be, but Jeremy was seeing why Steve adored him so much. Anthony was good at his job. “You know what, I ain’t gonna argue.” Jeremy walked to the laundry room and took off clothes. “I appreciate that.” Anthony leaned against the door and watched. “Damn those legs…” Jeremy looked at him. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” “I always wanted to see you naked.” “What? Me?” “Yeah. Started at Steve’s pool party. You’re real hot. Hot in a different way Steve is.” Jeremy blushed. “Thank you.” “Mmhmm. You wanna fuck me later, let me know.” “Damn, aren’t you brazen!” “I know what I want,” Anthony said with a grin. Jeremy stood before him bare ass naked while Anthony ogled him. “Well this is gonna go both ways. You need to be naked too.” Anthony thought. “I suppose that is fair. I’ve never organized a house naked before. This should be fun.” Anthony stripped out of his clothing too.
Anthony put the washer on and they both went upstairs to see what Anthony had been busy doing up there. They got a little distracted in the bedroom when Jeremy took Anthony up on his offer early.
I slipped my belt into my jeans and fixed it in place. “Are you alright?” Ryan lifted his head up. “What?” “You don’t look very happy.” Ryan pressed his knees together and shifted on the bed. “I apologize, it’s been a long evening. What’s matters is that you enjoyed yourself.” I raised an eyebrow. He was clearly parroting that from somewhere, because it didn’t match the tone of his voice. I had been with young men that loved this lifestyle, and that joy is absent. “That’s not what I asked, boy.” I strode up to the bed so he was forced to look up at me. “I asked you if you’re alright. Is someone making you do this?” Ryan met my gaze for a moment, and then looked at the bed. “No one is making me do anything.” “You aren’t enjoying it though.” Ryan chewed on his lip. “It doesn’t matter if I am, I am here to serve…” I scoffed. “Cut the shit. Speak plainly. Why are you doing this if you don’t want to be?” There’s a moment of silence. “I just needed the money. It’s just a temporary thing.” “You owe someone money?” I asked. “No, just a lot of debt,” Ryan grumbled. “I took out loans and a credit card in college, but I couldn’t afford my junior year. So I was working in a bar, and it wasn’t really paying the bills…“ He shrugged. “I needed money.”
I fished my comb out of my back pocket and ran it through my hair. “How many days have you been doing this?” “Three,” Ryan answered softly. “Three? I could tell you were green, but not that green, Jesus. I would have been a been a little more gentle. A tight ass gets me excited.” “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Ryan shot back. He sounded a tad wounded.
I put the comb back in my pocket. I stared down at him, and he cowered on the bed. “Can you cook?” He blinked at me. “Wh-what?” “Can you cook? Like an actual meal.” “Uh. I like to cook… I don’t really have the money for good ingredients, or equipment. Or time. I have a bunch of recipes bookmarked. Why?” “Just an idea.” I enjoyed the look of confusion on his face. “I have your number. Go home before someone hurts you. Or sells you. One of the other.” “Sells me?” he squeaked. “You gotta be strong in this industry, boy. Or people will prey on you. Go home where it’s safe.” He doesn’t have a response for that.
I nod in his direction and put an extra bill on the night stand on the way out. I stop in the lobby to pay for his hotel room too. On the sidewalk, I shot off a couple text messages and I hoped I was right.
Next day I called Ryan. “Hello, this is Con-…I mean, shit what number it this? This is Ryan.” I can’t help but laugh. He’s so bad at this. “Conner huh.” “Ryan. What may I do for you Sir? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again.” “I have a proposal for you.” “Like…marriage?” That made me laugh harder. “Christ, no. I ain’t settling. An offer. Of employment.” “For you?” Ryan asked. “No. My friend Mitch. He works at Mercy Hospital as a coordinator. Works insane hours, especially cause of Covid. He’s gained like fifty pounds from eating garbage food over the last few months. He complains a lot cause he’s lonely and has to spend his only time off doing laundry and paying bills. He wants you to start ASAP, cooking, cleaning, sex if you’re fine with it. He likes blonds.” I give him the offer rate and Conner chokes. “Is that per month?” “No, per week.” Conner got quiet. “Are you selling me to him?” I laughed so hard my eyes watered. It’s rude, but I can’t help it. “Conner, Jesus Christ. No, I’m not getting paid for this. There will be an offer of employment, you keep track of your hours. He wants to meet you tonight. You free? Unless you’re taking more clients.” “No… I haven’t been.” “Good boy.” “I can meet him tonight too. Absolutely. That’s – that’s a very generous offer you gave me, I’m really grateful Sir. I’m kind of in shock.” “Well process it. You should be grateful, it was a real decision cause I’d love to fuck you again and I’m probably giving that up.” “Mnn. Maybe not.” “Maybe?” I respond. “Maybe.” “I’m fine with a maybe. I’m sending you Mitch’s number. Don’t fuck this up.” “No Sir. I mean Yes Sir. I mean, whatever the right answer is.” I chuckle. “I can’t wait to see Mitch straighten you out.” ”Straighten me out? What does that mean.” “Ohh nothing.” He’ll discover Mitch’s talent for discipline in due time. “Sending you his number. Don’t be late.” “I won’t!”
A couple days later, Mitch sent me a message. “I can’t thank you enough for sending Conner my way. He’s been so helpful. He is pretty raw though like you said, he needs so much sculpting. It’s exciting. And you are right, his ass is damn tight! Can’t believe you gave that up for me.” I smiled and wrote back. “Conner needed you more than I needed him. Keep me updated. I want to see him blossom.” “Oh he will be… you won’t recognize him by Christmas.” I wrote back. “In that case, I want his ass with a bow on it so I know which one is him!”
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Caspian folded his arms and considered the flowers. Master had brought them home on Tuesday evening when his office closed for the Thanksgiving holiday. They survived the holiday, but now the roses were fading. The immature daisies were now in full bloom though. Caspian took the vase into the kitchen and sorted the blooms out. Some of the baby’s breath was salvageable as well. He plucked a milk bottle from the laundry room, cleaned it, and put the freshly cut stems in. Satisfied, Caspian returned it to the living room table. The sun made the arrangement glow. “Lovely,” he said. Caspian smiled and went to make two cups of tea. As he waiting for the tea to steep, Caspian heard footsteps behind him. Caspian glanced into the dining room. Master paused to consider the flowers. He bent over and smelled them. To Caspian’s astonishment, Master picked up the flowers and took it with him.
The timer chimed and Caspian turned his attention to the tea. He put the second mug and two lace cookies on a small tray and took them to the sun room. “Master?” he called. “Yes boy?” “I brought you tea. Permission to enter.” “Ah. Delightful. Enter.” Caspian balanced the tray on one hand so he could open the door. Master cleared a space on his desk so Caspian could place the tea. When he approached the desk, Caspian spotted the flowers in the milk bottle on the right side of Master’s laptop. Ahhh, things made sense now. The view outside the sun room was a forest bare from fall and dusted with the first winter’s snow. Caspian suppressed a smile. He placed the tea and cookies and knelt. “May I do anything for you Sir?” “If I told you, I’d be insulting you. You know what you need to do without me at this point, you are so ingrained with this household.” “Oh Sir, that’s not true. I still need your guidance.” “Subtle influences, maybe,” Master said with a smile. “How is your plug fitting?” Caspian blinked. “Until now I forgot I was wearing it…” “Aahh. That means it’s time to get you a bigger one.” “Bi-bigger?” Caspian blushed.
“It really delights me how shy you are until I get you down into our play room, and you become a totally different boy. I believe, was it two nights ago? you were making the most filthy demands out of me.” “I have no memory of that at all,” Caspian said in a dry tone. His Master chuckled. “I like releasing that side of you. Houseboy by day, sub by night… hm. That could make a fairly good novel. The BDSM defender by night…” “You have quite an imagination Sir. I wish I had time to fight crime. I do look good in tight clothing though.” “Mn that you do. If you get cold later, maybe you should put on that vinyl outfit you wore at Pride instead of your long johns. Make dinner in that.” Caspian thought about that. It didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. Dinner was mostly Thanksgiving left overs anyway, and he wouldn’t have much to burn when things inevitably got a bit heated. They were both quiet in their own thoughts. A notification sounded on Sir’s laptop. He glanced at it. “Alright, tea’s getting cold. You’re dismissed love.” Caspian shook his head and cleared his through. “Yes sir.” He bowed his head and stood up. “Thank you Sir.”
He left the room and went to find his kink wear. Maybe he should wear the long sleeve piece with the vinyl short pants he barely fit into anymore. Maybe Sir would let him feed him dinner wearing his gloves… Caspian tutted himself. No point getting himself horny now just to be frustrated all day. Wait….nope too late. Time to go for a walk in the snow.
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I put my hands on my hips. “Well look at that. My plants are thriving.” “They were in the wrong kind of soil, Sir.” “How did you figure that out?” “I did some research.” Damien is being humble but I see it in his eyes that he’s pleased with himself. “Must be nice knowing how to read,” I say. “It IS. It’s just hard cause I want to stay up so late reading, and then I’m tired during breakfast.” “That explains your cranky mornings sometimes.” “Sorry, Sir.” I pat him on the shoulder. “No, don’t apologize. I’m happy for you. You worked hard at it.” Damien blushes a little. He looks out over the water. “But the harder I work, the quicker I’m going to have to leave though won’t I?” "What? Why?” “Well you said I could stay here as your houseboy while I got caught up on my education and got my GED. I’m taking the test in May…” I snort. “You think I’m gonna let you stop with a GED? No, boy. You need to think bigger. College.” He turns to stare at me. “College?” Damien squeaks. “Or whatever higher education you want. And you can stay here while you do that, even if you don’t want to be my houseboy anymore. I like having you around.” “Oh Sir,” he sighs. “I want to stay here. I like being your houseboy. And having someone to have casual sex with is like…awesome” “That’s my line.” Damien chuckles. “Nope, mine.” He walks over to hug me. I crush him in my embrace. “But seriously, boy. Focus on your GED first, but start thinking bigger.” “What if I just want to be a houseboy?” “You’re not gonna want to be making eggs when you’re 40 and I’m 55. Trust me.” Damien sighs. “You’re probabaly right but, I can’t fathom of thinking of leaving. I’m so happy to make eggs for you now, Sir.” “Stop being so precious, I’m gonna get a cavity for how sweet you are. How did you survive on the streets for how long you did? When I think of you riding trains, it makes me sick.” Damien hugs him back. “I had to do what I did to survive. I’d do it all again if I knew I’d meet you on the corner one day.” “It’s weird to think where we’d be if I haven’t dropped my wallet,” I say. Damien says, “You’d still be eating the worst eggs…”
I laughed. “You’re right. Man, I want eggs now.” “Can I make breakfast for dinner?” “Mmmn. That sounds good. Let’s do that.” “Yay! I’m gonna do it naked.” “Uh can we have breakfast at 3 pm?” “No Sir! The house runs on a schedule.” I groan. “Stop being so precious!”
Let s go back to bed or we can do it on the stairs 🍆🖤✴💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦
Joseph paused on the stairs. “Sir?” “Yes lad?” “I hate this carpet. I’ve hated it for a long time. It clashes with the decor, it’s old, it’s flat, it sucks to vacuum, and it hides the beautiful wood of the stairs. If you want better grip, we can get a stair runner that I can put in the washing machine. But I hate this carpet. Especially now that we’re stuck inside looking at it. It has to go.” He paused. “Please.” I raise an eyebrow. “The houseboy has spoken.” “Heed my official declaration, Sir.” “I heed, alright. Well if it’ll make you happy. But I will want a runner there. It gets cold in winter.” “Yes sir! Hooray a task!” He ran into the garage to get his tools to rip up the carpet. I watch him, sort of amused. “A happy houseboy means a happy home, I guess.” “Oh Sir?” He asks, sticking his head back in the room. “Yes lad?” “Since we’re throwing it out… wanna have a good fuck on the stairs?” “Mmmn. That is appealing. How about I unlock you, you hump the carpet, edging yourself closer until I tell you to stop, over and over again, and then I will mount you and breed you? “UHhhhh. Do I get to cum?” ”Maybe.” ”My opinion is irrelevant in this isn’t it?” ”Yep! Fetch my keys, lad. We’re gonna have us some fun.”
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Kirk shakes his head. Mr. Gilligan lives on the 14th floor, and his houseboy is always in here buying things for the meals he makes for his Master. The guy always seems to forget to put clothes on before he comes down here in the summer – not that anyone really complains. The women sure do loiter in the produce section though!
Kirk tries not to giggle at Mrs. Auburn (12th floor) staring shamelessly. At 83 she just did not care what people thought of her. Kirk restocks the oranges and admires the houseboy’s shapely legs, that high and sculpted ass. What a stud! One day, he’ll be wealthy enough to afford a houseboy… one day. The pyramid of oranges shifts and Kirk barely gets his arm around the friut to prevent it all from going on the floor. When Kirk regains control over his restocking, he looks up and the houseboy is gone. He sighs. Damn.
Giovanni strode into the kitchen in an outfit that cost over four figures from shoes to haircut. It was a lovely spring day. His houseboy had some jazz music on low volume playing in the background. A mimosa was already waiting on the table, next to a newspaper. “Good morning, boy.” Giovanni sat down, tucked in a linen napkin, and briefed the paper with his glass in his other hand. “Good morning, Sir. Sleep well?” “I did, thanks to you boy. Your mouth around my cock is better than any sleeping pill.” There was the sound of a fork being dropped. “T- thank you Sir. I enjoy servicing you.” Giovanni suppressed a smile. “I enjoy it more than you.” “That’s impossible, Sir.” The houseboy strode over and set down a small ramekin of cut fruit and half a spinach omelette. Giovanni liked to watch this. The houseboy’s dark skin made such a nice contrast to the white plates. Plus, his fingers were so long that every motion he made was so graceful and delicate. He seemed to float and flit with an ethereal grace that Giovanni loved. Giovanni sipped his drink and tried to keep his thoughts pure. He hated going to work with damp underwear. The last plate arrived on the table. Giovanni set the paper down. “Boy.” “Yes sir?” he giggled. “What. What did you do the pancakes?” “I got a star cookie cutter. Isn’t it fun? They’re banana caramel, your favorite.” “That is my favorite. I just think the last time I had food in shapes, I was five. I’m a goddamn CFO now.” The boy put his hands on his hips. “Are you telling me the CFO of Buenaco is too good for star pancakes his houseboy made by hand for him? Are you like some circle pancake food elitist?” Giovanni gave his houseboy a ‘look’ but he did not have an answer for that. He honestly thought sometimes he should bring his houseboy to work and have him argue business deals, cause he’d win them all. Giovanni considered his breakfast. “They are pretty cute…” Giovanni admitted. “You are a very serious man, Giovanni. Nothing wrong with having a little fun. When was the last time you had that? When you were five?” Giovanni spread the butter around on the pancakes. “…Probably. My dad had me running bets for him by the time I was 6.” “There you go. Eat you food before it gets cold.” Giovanni really should have spanked that boy for his bossiness, but he kind of liked him a little sassy. Giovanni ate his food in silence. Shaped or not, they were goddamn delicious.
In the break room at work later, he was talking to another accountant and asked her. “Hey Sandra.” She was eating a yogurt. “What’s up?” “What would you do if your houseboy made you star shaped pancakes for breakfast?” She raised her eyebrows. “Oh my god, that’d be so cute! I’d kind of die. I love quaint shit like that. ” “Cause my houseboy did that this morning.” “Awww really? I’m so jealous! Did you take a photo?” “Uh, yeah I did.” Giovanni showed it to her. She snatched the phone out of his hand. “Awwww! Margaret look at this!” “Hey! That’s my phone, where are you going with that??” It took five minutes to get his phone back from being passed around the legal department. “It’s just pancakes!” Giovanni insisted. “No, you don’t get it,” Margaret scolded him. “Your houseboy loooves you.” “Loves me? But he works for me…” That made Sandra and Margaret both giggle. “Does your brain process anything else but numbers?” Giovanni put his phone in his pocket. “Clearly not.” He stomped back to his desk, still confused. Star pancakes means my houseboy loves me…? He loves me…? It filled his thoughts all day. I’m loveable?
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