Tag: houseboy

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Matthew carefully creased the towel he was folding and hung it on the towel bar of the stove. He smiled. The barn-red fabric looked nice against the white of the stove. He sniffed the air. The new candle he lit was filling the bottom of the house with its cinnamon-y smell. Perfect.

Matthew gathered the spare oven mitts, floor mat, and towels and took them to the laundry room. He looked at the tropical green patterns with a mournful sigh as he dumped them into a basket. Summer was over. Their Rottweiler had brought him the first yellow leaf to fall in their yard today, and thus it was undeniable that autumn was on its way.

Turning the house over for the season took two days, but Matthew enjoyed the busy work. All of the small linens – like the towels and pot holders – were swapped out four times a year: pink for spring, green for summer, red for fall, and blue for winter. Big things, like the dishes, welcome mats, curtains, and sheets were swapped out twice. Before he’d done the kitchen, Matthew had put the thicker flannel sheets and the down comforter on the Master bed upstairs. Good bye white linen sheets!

The houseboy had also gone through his Master’s clothes, adding thick socks to his underwear drawer and tucked cedar-scented sweaters in drawers underneath. Waterproof boots and slippers came out of storage and now waited by the garage door. Soon the canvas shoes and sandals would vanish until warmer weather.
About that time was also when the snowboard gear would come out of hiding. Matthew couldn’t wait for the season to start on the mountain!

There was also the actual house to work on too. Fall was when Matthew flushed the gunk out of the radiator, checked the dryer for clogged lint, and reversed the direction of the ceiling fans. Tomorrow, Matthew would be busy preparing their vegetable garden for winter – he was just waiting on a few more things to be ready to be picked. Gutters would have to be cleaned. The roof checked. While he was up there, Matthew would also note any breaking or sagging branches of the large elms and pines that flanked theier home. Last year there was a big one splitting off, and the arborist said it had maybe two weeks left on it.

There was also the cars…. Master’s sports car would be covered and the battery disconnected; out would come the larger and more snow-hardy jeep of which it was easier to wash off salt from the roads. And the back had to be packed with emergency gear in case of a road accent into a snowbank. So much to do, so much to do.

Fall was the best baking season though. Finally an excuse to use the kitchen all day long without breaking a sweat! Pies, Thanksgiving, Christmas cookies…. Matthew sighs softly. He can almost smell gingerbread. He opens the box of chai tea he put in the cupboard this morning and makes himself a cup. Master liked tropical fruit blends and light green teas in the warmer months. Now hojicha, chai, and black teas populated the shelf. Matthew preferred them anyway.

Matthew made his tea and tidied up. He stirred coconut milk into the steaming mug in his hands, nibbled banana bread, and surveyed the kitchen. It needed a few more decorations. Oh, he realized, he forgot to swap out his recipes. He shoved the bread into his mouth and set his tea on the counter to cool. He dug the box out from the pantry and sorted things out. Away went the recipes for zucchini, berries, stone fruit, and corn; and in their place went the recipes for squashes, root vegetables, oranges, pomegranates, and cranberries.

All in order, all in order. During his first years in this house, Matthew had to make a list to get everything done. Now he could do it from memory. He looked at the calendar on the wall. December would be their 5 year anniversary. Master was going to get a particularly nice Christmas gift this year – a trip to Beijing. Sir always wanted to see China.

Matthew smiled. Three years of saving. Worth it for what was surely going to be a great reaction. He hoped there’d be a 10th anniversary, then a 15th, a 25th, a 50th… god, he loved his Sir. He loved making his Sir happy and creating a proper home for him. Sir understood him, and knew what kind of environment Matthew needed to be happy. Matthew thought he was very lucky to have that.

He glanced at the clock on the wall again. Hm, if he hurried, he could make that brown sugar-glazed marshmallow sweet potato dish to go with tonight’s pork chop entree. The recipe was just out of finger’s reach now. Yes, Master would be very pleased with that. A content Master was often a horny Master too. What better reward would there be for his hard work than to christen those flannel sheets with lovemaking? Oh god, Master would taste like marshmallows and brown sugar too.

Matthew groaned and his cage felt tight. Yes, definitely making that for dessert.

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Captions are fictional.

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The photo was followed by a rather terse text message: “OK. I agreed to pay you AND took a photo of me posing almost naked with a bottle of Tide over my junk. NOW will you come over and help me for fucks sake?”

Taylor howled at how angry Mark looked. Taylor had just moved into a new place with his new Daddy, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Mark realized just how much Ty did around the apartment. Taylor didn’t mind housekeeping, nor did he mind doing things for men he thought were particularly hot and might fuck him later, but over time it became obvious that Mark was just taking advantage of him – and he lied about being bi. Dude was straight as they came.

So once Ty met someone, he gave 30 days and moved out. Ty gave warning – “you know we won’t be able to do our laundry together once I move out’ – but Mark brushed him off. Ty suspected Mark thought he’d just find some girlfriend to do it for him, but his current girl, Stacey, was a fierce law student and didn’t have time to play maid for him.

Ty had enjoyed every pleading text message from Mark. Ty’s new man said it wasn’t nice for a boy to tease and be rude to another man who had made mistakes, but that didn’t mean Ty couldn’t get a little fun out of the situation. That picture was worth it alone.

“Ok ok, fine. I’ll come help you get the apartment fixed up, per hourly rate I suggested. I’ll be there in an hour. After this, you’ll have to hire a maid.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll get around to that later.,” Mark texted back. “Just get over here.”
Ty rolled his eyes. Mark needed a Daddy of his own to fix that procrastination habit of his and to fix his snarky attitude. A rather naughty idea popped into Ty’s head. He knew where Stacey went to class in the morning. He wondered how much talking it would take to plant some seeds in her head about how she could boss Mark into shape…

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Captions are fictional.

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“Good morning, boy.”
“Good morning, Sir.”
“How were the waves this morning?”
“Excellent, but a little cold,” he answers, busying himself with making coffee.
“I’m glad you had fun, but what did I tell you to do about the sand off your feet and ankles when you come in the house?”
He gives me a sideways smile and rubs the back of his tanned neck. “To rinse off before I enter the house, Sir.”
“That’s right. So why don’t you?”
“Well, I’m the houseboy. I’m going to be cleaning it up anyway.”
“But do you think I want to walk on sand barefoot in my kitchen and track it into the house, into the carpeted areas? And scratch up my hardwood?”
“I didn’t….” he trails off when he sees my face. “No Sir.”
“You are in my employ. My instructions are not suggestions. I have my reasons.”
“Thank you for the correction, Sir.”

He pours a cup of coffee, adds milk, cream, and sugar, and serves me before tending to his own – straight black joe.
“Thank you.”
He nods.
I take a sip and set down my mug. “Now, put yours down and put your hands on the counter.”
My boy groans. I delight in it. Taming a half feral beach bum has tested my limits sometimes, but I do enjoy enforcing my boundaries. He obeys, because he does not want to end up locked in chastity long-term.
I pluck the spatula out of the utensil holder on the counter.
“20,” I announce.
Another groan. My cock hardens. The first six are gentle thwacks, teasing stings to warm up the chilled flesh. I stroke the skin, admiring how the color returns. Seven is a little harder, and he tenses. I play him this way for a few more swats, each spank the same as the one before it, but sting after sting is making him tender and squirmy. The legs begin to kick. The last five are hard swings that make him cry out and kick up his feet. “19…”
“Ah!”
“20.”
He hisses loudly. “Nnnngg!”

“Very good.” I kiss his back between his shoulder blades then put the paddle in the sink. I walk to the fridge, take out the aloe, and squirt some between my hands. I massage it into his hot flesh, and he whimpers and mews and shudders. “Oh my god Sir – it’s so cold!” he gasps.
“God you are delicious,” I reply, distracted, as I’m nibbling on his shoulder and licking the taste of sea water off hsi skin.
“Sir!” he cries, a high needy note, as I stroke his ass, and then his body shudders. I hear something drip, which is followed by a certain smell. I pull back. “Did you ejaculate?” I check the floor, which is covered in milky drips.
“I- I- ” he stammers.
I reach out and grasp his cock, which is softening. I pull back his foreskin. He gasps. It’s wet.
“Oh you did. That torment got you all horny did it?”
“I just got hard when you spanked me, and when you started rubbing my ass with the cold aloe, I just couldn’t control it!” my boy explained.
“That’s sexy as fuck,” I murmur. I reach above him in the cabinet for the coconut oil. I undo my pants, squirt some onto my cock, and take him against the counter. His cries fuel on my throbbing cock. His butt is still tender and every thrust makes him tense and whimper. The urge to fuck him becomes a violent thirst. I give him several hard thrusts and spill my morning load. “Oh FUCK,” I bellow, letting loose.
“Sir!”
I grab his waist and hold us close, his warm butt against my hips. The moment begins to dissipate. My coffee is getting cold. I slide out of him, and we both moan.
“God fucking damn,” I sigh. “What a wonderful morning.”
My boy doesn’t respond. His body is heaving. “God Sir, that was a rush being used and owned by you like that.”
I smile to myself. “That is the world I am trying to create for you.”
“I – I understand Sir.”
“Good. I was hoping to hear that. Well, let’s go take a shower. You have breakfast to make and a lot of cleaning to do.”
“Yes sir.”

I decided to wait until we were in my double shower to tell him he was going to spend the rest of the day in chastity for coming without permission.

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Captions are fictional.

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“Boy?” Ray asked. “Where are you?”
Sen came back in from the garage. “Here, Sir. How may I serve you?”
Ray smiled. “Wash your hands. I have a late Christmas present for you.”
Sen perked up. For a boy that had given up a large part of life to serve the man he loved, he sure did love receiving presents. Christmas was one of his favorite days of the year, right up those with days he got released from his chastity cage. Usually, that was also Christmas too. Sen was extremely curious about the present he would receive, since the the last holiday season had been very fruitful.

Sen obediently washed his hands and kneeled at his place in the living room. Ray told him to sit on the sofa. Sen sat, hands neatly folded in his lap. He was wearing his cream service out, leggings and an oatmeal colored henley to ward off the chill.

Ray sat down next to him.
Ray cupped Sen’s cheek and traced the curved of his jaw with the back of his hand. “Do you remember what you told me when I first hired you? Back before we fell in love, before we got married, before we had our collaring ceremony, back when I was a cranky business man who was annoyed his boyfriends kept breaking up with him?”
Sen couldn’t suppress a smile. “May I speak candidly?”
“Yes boy.”
“Yes, I do, Sir. You’re still a bit cranky, but far less so.”
“I was cranky because I couldn’t figure out why I, a handsome bachelor with lots to offer, was still single and frustrated and horny all the time.”
Sen was still smiling. He loved knowing he’d tamed such a narcissistic man. “I remember we had so much sex for the first month that nothing got done in your house and you nearly fired me for something that wasn’t my fault.”
Ray laughed. “I was not a very good Master then was I?”
“Well, no, but I was serving you, was I not?”
“Mmnn you were, but as a siren not a houseboy.”
Sen ran his fingers over the back of Ray’s hand. “I don’t know if I would have stuck around if the relationship was just sex, you know. I’m glad you pushed to have me stick around as your houseboy. You really needed one.”
Ren straightened his back, surprised. “Really? You would have left?”
“As you said, you were a narcissist back then. I would have been another boyfriend that left you.”
Ren was momentarily dumbfounded. “Wow, that never occurred to me.”
“We are a good match,” Sen said. “You really needed a houseboy.”
“Yes. Yes we are, and yes I did.” It was Ray’s turn to smile. “Do you remember what you said though, in the beginning? I asked you what the most important thing was in a relationship. I thought you would say money or a good job or good looks or a big dick or something but you said…”
“Compromise! The ability to compromise.”
“Yes!” Ray patted Sen on the thigh. “Good boy.”
Sen beamed.
“I’m very pleased you remembered that. Compromise. I was astonished you said that. I turned that over my head for weeks after. You said something about how a relationship can’t be defined by one person insisting they’re right every time an argument breaks out. The other person isn’t going to magically agree with them at some magical point in the future.”
Sen nodded. “You had a habit of telling your exes – my way or the highway, and they all picked the highway.”
“Yes,” Ray sighed. “I was an idiot. But that was the beginning of correcting my behavior.” He paused.“You’re probably wondering why we’re talking about this.”
“Yes Sir, I am.”
“Well. There’s one thing you have been asking for, for Christmas or birthdays, for about…three years now.”
Sen furrowed his brow.
“I saw the merit of it, but there was one thing that stopped me from getting it for you. Hair. I just did not want all that hair in my house.”
Sen’s eyebrows went up. He knew what Ray was saying, but hesitanted to get his hopes up that he’d gotten it after wishing for so long.
“Sir did you….?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to – cause you know, hair – and then…well. You’ll see.” Roy smiled, and got up. He went into the other room, and came back cradling a towel. “She fell asleep in the laundry basket.”

When Sen saw her, he gasped and his hands flew to his mouth. “Oh my god. Oh my god Sir! You got me a cat??” he squealed. “Oh my gosh look at her, she’s so precious and tiny and oh my god can I hold her?” Sen flailed.
Ray sat on the sofa and set the towel on Sen’s lap. He picked up the small kitten who mewled at him, but seemed to accept being distruped when she felt Sen’s warm hands around her. Sen cuddled her to his chest. “Oh my god,” he sniffled. “She’s perfect. She’s beautiful. She’s… she’s…”
“Yours,” Ray finished, blinking away tears. “I saw her on a bulletin, she’d been rescued with a bunch of other hoarded cats. Rebecca, the lady at the shelter, said she was not handling stress well and would do best in a quiet home with not a lot of other cats. Some people expressed interest in her for breeding, but since her line couldn’t be confirmed or whatever, they fell through.”
Sen was half listening. He was captivating by the small black thing purring in his hands. He couldn’t remember feeling such strong love. It was a different love than the kind he felt for Ray. It was a protective, soft love.
“She’s mine,” Sen murmured, pushing tears away with the palm of his hand. “Thank you so much, Ray.”
Ray leaned over to kiss his partner, overjoyed by the reaction. “You’re welcome. See? Compromise. She hardly has any hair.”
Sen half laughed, half snorted. “Yes, you did compromise. And I’m very proud of you.”
They kissed again. Sen’s gaze went to his new pet. “I think it makes her cuter. Does she have a name yet?”
Ray rubbed the kitten behind her ears. “They were calling her Blackie at the shelter but I feel like she needs a name with more personality.”
Sen scoffed. “Blackie? That won’t do at all.” He cupped her by the rump and held her up high. “I think I’ll call her Little Empress until her personality shows through.”
Ray beamed. “I love it. She’ll be treated as such in this house. Merry Christmas, boy.”
Sen chuckled. “Merry Christmas Ray.” He paused, then smiled again. “Ahh, I can’t believe it, I have a kitty!”

Ray felt himself feeding off the joy rolling in waves off of his boy, and knew now more than ever before how wonderful it could be to put to make someone else happy.

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Captions are fictional.

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reeseloveandsoul:

{reeseloveandsoul.tumblr.com}

I stand there in the entry way to our living room, hand paused while scratching the back of my neck. My mouth is frozen in mid-yawn. My house boy is perched on the mantel of our fireplace with feline grace, all curves and sunkissed bare limbs, gazing out onto the skyline. I work my dry mouth and swallow. He looks like he is part of the room, like I had a naked male version of the Little Mermaid statue from Copenhagen installed in my condo.

I pat my pocket, seeking my phone. I frame the shot and snap it. Perfect.

At the sound, my houseboy looks over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re up. Good afternoon, Sir. How was your nap?”
“Wonderful,” I reply. “I can’t wait until this client partnership is over and I can sleep like a normal person again.”
My houseboy gives me a wistful look. “It will be soon. Shall I get you some refreshments?”
“Mmnn. No, don’t get down. You can get it in a minute.” I walk over to him. “What are you looking at?”

My boy shrugs. “I just realized I never took the time to really look at the view you know? Been working so hard to keep your life and home in order since we moved here, but I spend most of it looking down. It’s beautiful.”
I run my palm over his thigh. I suddenly want him naked and spead open under me in an embarrassingly vulgar way.  
“What do you see?” I manage to say.
“Mmmn. There’s a bird of prey circling to the right there.”
“Oh? So there is.”
“There’s a red flag on that building over there. Someone is having a smoke break on that roof there. There’s a balloon caught on that line there…”
“You see a lot.”
My houseboy looks pleased that I’m interested. “I wonder what I could see if I had that bird’s vision.”
“Probably ants on the sidewalk,” I guess.
“Mmmn. Possibly.” My houseboy looks at me. I position his chin with my pointer finger and kiss him. He leans in, and I give him my tongue. A soft groan escapes from lips. “God, I love it when you kiss me for no reason.”
“Oh there is always a reason,” I insist. “And I could use that refreshment now. Get two.”

My houseboy blinks, trying to snap back into focus. “Ye – yes Sir.” He slides off the mantel with noted grace. I watch that fine body as he sashays into the kitchen.

I sit on the sofa when he returns with two glasses. We sit and discuss dinner as we drink our iced tea. When I finish mine, I set it down on the tray.
“Another Sir?” My boy prompts.
“No,” I say, leaning in and caressing his jaw. “I want you.”
I take the glass out of his hand and put it on the table. I lean forward and guide him backwards until his back is on the sofa, over the afghan. I crawl up onto the cushions and settle between his legs.

He is always naked. I chose not to lock him and instead make him come to me to ask for relief, which is just the right amount of control and humiliation to set me off. He has been so good so far in learning that his cock is mine to touch and handle first. I enjoy a palm full of the hardening thing as I push down my boxers and extract mine out.

We always hide lube and condoms under the sofa seat cushions, and I’m pleased my houseboy remembered to put them there after we moved.

He takes me like a pro – hot and tight, without needing to be stretched. Every inch pushed in makes him mewl and wiggle like a kitten. “Good boy,” I grunt, beginning my thrusts almost immediately. He responds by wrapping his legs around my back.

I reposition and push inside him deep, and I know I hit his spot because pre-cum spurts all over my hand. I rub his cockhead with my thumb and he shivers tremendously.
“Yes. Yes, like that boy,” I murmur. He whimpers my name.

I finish taking him with a breathless pace. I’m feeling particularly amorous and grant him an orgasm with mine – but after mine, of course. I mark him with hickeys and licks, and enjoy feeling him soften and relax under me. I nuzzle his swan like neck. “I could use another refreshment now.”
“Wh – when my legs work again, Sir, I will obey that order.”
I smirk at him and chuff under my breath. “So it shall be.” I caress his sensitive little cock until he’s sweating under me and protesting dearly, but I relent once he’s shot again – a little clear fluid under his belly button. I lick him until he’s giggling cause he’s ticklish, and then my lust is sated.

The next day, I go out and buy him a pair of binoculars and leave them on the mantel. I also give him a journal to write down his finds.

He clearly loved his presents, because my boy drew hearts on my pancakes with chocolate syrup for a week after. When he stopped, I told him not to cause I loved it so much. I love him so much.

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Captions are fictional. I didn’t realize this was a selfie by OP. Beautiful work.
The skyline is of Brooklyn apparently.

Also I didn’t know the OP had put a Little Mermaid reference into his tags until after I wrote this, lol.

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My lover considered me over his coffee. He was suspicious, and drank it slowly. I smiled. “Don’t worry, I did not do anything to your coffee. I know that you don’t like to waste food.”
Toby gave me a heart-meltingly cute smile. “It does taste pretty good,” he agreed. “But I can see the anticipation on your face. I know you have been planning things.”
I grinned, unable to help myself. April 1st was the only day I could pull off shenanigans and not get spanked for it. And, he was right, I had been planning things. But he would not discover that until later, like when he would get a text message on his phone, it would make goat noises. Or that his phone was now in Korean. Or when he went to eat his dessert at lunch, and discovered that there were Skittles mixed in with the M&Ms. Also, I had called his boss at work -an ex college professor I had- and asked everybody in the office to call him Tom, and act really confused when he insisted his name was Toby. But he would find that all out in due time. I just giggled and squirmed as Toby stared at me.
“So mischievous,“ he clucked.
“You have nothing to fear,” I assured him. “Now it’s time for you to get up, or you will be late for work.”
Toby sipped his coffee, “Yes yes, boy.”
I smiled and helped him out of bed. I was looking forward to the expression on Toby’s face when he saw that I made green eggs and ham for breakfast, just like his favorite children’s book. It was a shame though, I wouldn’t be there to see his reaction to most of my pranks. Like for example, that I had exchanged all of the CDs in his car for disco albums. Sigh. Why was this so much fun? Perhaps that it was fun to be in control for just one day. Also, it was a way that I could show told me that I cared enough about him that I wanted him to have fun. And I think he appreciated that, because every year on this date, we ended up having really amazing sex when he came home from work. I was definitely looking forward to that. I was just hoping he didn’t use the menthol lube like he did last year to get me back!

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Captions are fictional.

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langlitzhercules:

Colin Wayne

Taylor put the lid on his alkaline water, minutes from heading out to work as grunt at a high profile law firm, when a sight made him stop. HE was back again. Taylor didn’t know his name. He lived in the yard behind him, and they shared a fence. Because Taylor’s house that he lived in – with three other guys – was on a hill, he could see into the other backward cause of the slope. And this guy, this boy, was becoming Taylor’s obession. 

Taylor saw him often, usually taking care of the yard in a jockstrap or sometimes nothing at all. He always had this handsome piece of leather around his neck. Sometimes the boy would be hanging laundry or skimming the pool. Once he saw him scrubbing screens from the windows. Lots of grilling in the summer and gardening in the spring. Once in a blue moon, Taylor got a glimpse of what the boy was doing right now. He was reclining on a chaise lounge in a crop top and using a dildo on himself. There was some sort of metal thing on the boy’s cock that wasn’t there before. God, he was really getting into it! Taylor swallowed. He looked like he was really enjoying himself, fucking himself with that toy…his mouth was open in an ‘o’ shape and his back was arched, one leg pulled up. 

Taylor glanced at the clock. He really needed to go, but he couldn’t pull away even though it made him feel weird. It wasn’t that he felt grossed or even disgusted; mostly it made him feel uncomfortable and it had taken him weeks to figure out just what the emotion was:envy. The more he watched the boy, the more he didn’t want to go to work. The more he wished for that life. A quiet life taking care of the home, making everything clean and proper. A nice pool to swim in, and hot mornings pleasuring yourself on a chaise lounge chair. Taylor wasn’t sure if the boy was a live in servant or some sort of kinky submissive or something, but god he seemed to have a great life. Taylor had seen him making out with a really handsome guy on the back porch before. He’d never seen a gay couple quite like them.

Matter of fact, he’d never even known any gay couples. All his friends were straight. Taylor even thought he was straight. But there’d never been a girl that did it for him. Not like his best friend Kevin and his girlfriend Shawna, who were so obviously in love. Taylor swallowed hard. God, why did he want what the boy had so much? Did a dildo feel that good? Oh god, Taylor realized, he was getting an erection.

Taylor fumbled with his glass water bottle and barely caught it before it fell off the counter. Shit! He really should go. He was going to miss his train to New York if he didn’t. But the boy was taking forever to cum! With a pang of regret, he tore his eyes away from the hot backyard scene and made his way out the door. 

Taylor couldn’t stop thinking about the boy the whole way to work and nearly missed his stop. Was he getting closer to figuring out what the void was in his life? Was the life he was living even the right one for him? He’d just done what his parents had expected of him, and had done well…but despite winning this coveted job, Taylor wasn’t happy. And he knew it. He thought back to an older memory of the boy and his lover kissing on the back deck of their home. God, how wonderful it’d be to be loved like that…

On the way home from work, Taylor got up the courage and bought himself a dildo.

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Text is fictional. This is Colin Wayne and you can’t really tell, but he is ripped as hell.

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bondcyberrole:

ooooooh….i’m dreaming…of a white christmas

It’s never a good sign when you wake up and your boy is missing on Christmas. You woke up before your alarm, which means your boy wasn’t scheduled to present by your side for a little while longer. Yet, you expected to hear him prattling around the kitchen, preparing a special breakfast, cocoa and coffee, and getting ready to open gifts. Your boy actually has presents under the tree – mostly things he can use to serve you better or things you will use on him, but still, boxes have his name on them. But he’s not here.

Where is he? You feel miffed and concerned. Where is your boy? You feel a breeze and notice the back door is ajar. You step forward to it, pulling your robe around you. What you see takes your breath away. Outside, in two feet of snow, your naked and vulnerable servant boy is standing up to his knees in soft powder. Flakes of it pepper his hair, and his face is turned skyward. You can’t believe it. It’s a white Christmas. 

You remember for a moment that you bought your boy from a dealer that had brought his stock up from Florida. Had the boy never seen snow? You never bothered to ask. You knew he was fascinated by autumn and relished the traditions of holiday seasons, but had had he never seen snow? Truly? 

You open the door. There’s a clear path where your boy cut a path through the deck and down to the yard. You jog to the mud room to fetch your boots and coat, and pull them on without really tying your laces or buttoing the fasteners. You’re worried your boy is going to get frostbite out there. You pull open the back door, and you’re cold all over. It’s freezing. You stumble to the edge of the porch. 
“Boy,” you call gently, not wanting to scare him. He doesn’t hear you. He sticks out his tongue, trying to catch a snowflake. You pull out your phone and snap a quick photo. In the zoom, you can see he’s trembling from here. You get an idea to get his attention. With numb fingers, you wad up a ball of snow and throw it at him. It hits him square in the back and he yelps.

You laugh. If that wasn’t funny, the way he’s staring at you in surprise is. 
“Come inside, you’re going to get frostbite on your toes.”
“I’m wearing my rain boots, Sir.”
“Still, this is no weather for a boy to be naked outside.” I say, throwing another snowball at him. He ducks.
“Coming Sir,” he replies, teeth chattering.
You shake your head and throw snowballs at him until he hurries up, but he’s laughing. When he’s on the deck, you turn your back to head back inside – and then a moment later you feel it, the impact of something wet and cold hitting the back of your jacket.

You whirl around.

You can’t believe it! Your boy just hit you with a snowball. His cheeks are red and he looks terrified as he is pleased with himself. Very sheepish.

I eye him. That was easily a spank-able offense. “You have good aim,” I say, feeling generous, then turn back inside. You hear him sigh in relief. 

When you get back inside, he is noticeably shivering. His cock is so small that you’re sure he could have pulled the chastity cage off. You order him to get dressed and prepare something hot to drink while you go turn up the heat a little. Your boy bows then goes to his quarters to dress in his winter thermals.

You linger by the window, watching the snow fall, already burying your tracks and your fun. You wonder if your boy has ever been sledding, and suddenly you know how to spend your Christmas. Where in the Master handbook does it say you can’t command your boy to have fun? 

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Text is fictional. 

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Birdie glanced outside the slat window. “Oh look, the chickadees are back at the bird feeder. That must mean…yep, the doves are under it, picking up the mess. It looks like the squirrels are keeping their distance. The proofing thing we rigged worked. Aw, they’re so cute and fat. Probably starving in all this cold. Hm, I wonder what those birds are? Warblers maybe? Purple martins? Probably just a type of finch. Wonder if we’ll see the cardinal pair from last year this winter. Gosh, they’re just so fun to watch. Nom nom nom! What do you think Sir?” 
When there wasn’t a reply, BIrdie glanced over his shoulder at his strong, swarthy Sir who was giving him the most unreadable, distant expression.
“Sir?” Birdie asked again. “Is everything alright?”
“I love you.”
BIrdie gasped softly. ‘Sir?” he squeaked.
Morgan’s cheeks turned ruddy under the close-cropped dark scruff of his beard. “I’m sorry, that just slipped out.”
“Did…did you mean it Sir?”
Morgan covered his face with his hand. “I … Yes. I do, Birdie. I was just sitting here, staring at beautiful sight of the back of you and I realized the reason I stopped chasing boyfriends so long ago is that I’m in love with you. I made these excuses to myself – that I was distracted, that I was busy with work, that our sex was holding me over, but I just….I just realized it. That butt is mine, and what it’s attached to, I want it to be mine forever.”

Birdie’s eyes went wide. His delicate hand was hovering over his mouth. “Morgan – I mean, Sir I – I – …I’m speechless.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I have breached our relationship. You are my houseboy. I have been inappropriate with you.” Sir began to get up. “I’m going out.”
“No no!” Birdie cried, walking over to his Sir and taking his hand in his. “I’m really happy you told me. Oh gosh, can’t you feel that I’m shaking? I’m the luckiest houseboy in the world.  A great job, a great life, and my deepest fantasy realized! It’s like Christmas has come early.”
Morgan blinked and choked. “Really..? You feel the same?”
“If not more. You’re my favorite man in the world,” Birdie admitted. “Oh gosh, I’m going to get emotional.”
Morgan chuckled to hide how flattered he was, and kissed his boy on the forehead. “Then get emotional. Get emotional for us if you want.”
“For both of us? …but Sir, your eyes are tearing up.”
“Oh come on Birdie, let an old man keep some of his dignity.”
Birdie giggled and nuzzled Morgan. “I love you too.”

They shared a kiss on the lips. Morgan glanced over Birdie’s shoulder. “Hey, the cardinal couple is back.”
“What? Really?”
Morgan pulled Birdie to the window, and they held hands as they watched the little creatures feast.

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Text is fictional.

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“Ok, the potatoes are done, the salad is done, the turkey needs a little while longer. Ugh still have to cut the pies? Why won’t they cool! Ah shit, stir the sauce stir the sauce…that was all my orange peel so I can’t fuck up the cranberry sauce…still have to set the goddamn table too uuuugh…”
I walk into the kitchen. “Babe are you alright?”
“Fine! I’m fine,” Julian said tartly. “Just…you know, running a little behind.”
“If you’re a little late it’s ok,” I told him. That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
“No. No, it’s not. It’s important to me that we look punctual and productive. It’s our first Thanksgiving in our new house together, as a couple. It’s important to me that people think we’re fucking flawless and I got this shit.” Julian mutters something to himself about people thinking he can’t be in a relationship.

I stare at his butt and give him my pity from a distance. Julian had a bit of a rough start in life, and had to sell himself for a bit to pay his rent a few times in community college. All of his loser friends told him he’d end up a nothing, and his parents told him he was a failure and no one would love him because he was gay and an artist. I had been slowly excising the toxic fat out of his life, and replacing them with a more supportive circle of friends. Julian’s hang-ups emerged at times like this. He had to prove to himself he could do certain things. There was nothing I could do, except support him. I peeled apples for pies, made the coffee and did the dishes and Julian was happy with that. It was getting close to meal time though and his stress was off the charts. I couldn’t sit back and let him be so frazzled.

Julian turned off the cranberry sauce. “Good. Now it just has to cool.”
“Julian,” I said softly.”
“Hm?”
I walked up to him and guided him to the counter next to the stove. 
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I untied his apron and took the lube out of my pocket. “Helping.” 
“Wha – ah!” he cried out in surprise as cold lube slid down his crack. I unzipped my pants. That got his attention. “Wait – you aren’t? Right here. Honey this isn’t -”
But I was already pressed up against him, pulling his hips toward my cock. His tight hole fought me for a moment, so I rubbed my shaft between his cheeks and tried again. This time, he welcomed me. I pushed into him in three slow strokes, down to the hilt. Julian whimpered, one hand grabbing the counter, the other on my wrist.
I nibbled his ear and rubbed his hardening cock with my hand that had done the lubrication. “Move with me,” I purred.
I didn’t give Julian much of an option. We were close, skin to skin, and each thrust from my hips made him move with me. He groaned softly and we began to rock together. I wrapped an arm around Julian’s waist and counted how many times I pushed my cock inside of him – 1, 2,3…. at 8, his muscles tensed and he peaked. I pumped his cock with my tired hand until he fouted all over the counter and the cabinets, noises of bliss pouring out of his mouth. My original goal was to pull out and explode on his butt, but Julian had me locked in so good that I just filled his ass up with my cum. I felt him tremble as the heat flooded him. I breathed hard into his ear as I worked his slick member. “Shit,” I grunted. It was over almost as soon as it begun. “That was intense.”
“That was…that was…” Julian fumbled for words.
I pulled out and pressed myself against him again. I put both hands on his shoulders. “What you needed. You are much more relaxed now. I can feel it in your muscles.”
Julian leaned his head on me. “Mmmn… yes. What was I stressing over again? I think I might have a glass of wine.”
I smiled. “Why don’t you shower, get dressed in that nice blue sweater I bought you? The turkey has fifteen more minutes on it. Let me take it out of the oven.”
Julian turned a bit to look at me. “Ok. I’ll trust you with it. And check the bottom of the pies. If they’re cool, cut them ok?” 

I nodded and kissed him, then poured him a glass of wine and sent him to the shower. I spent the next fifteen minutes tidying and cleaning and cutting pies. I was setting the table when Julian came downstairs. When he walked into the room, I saw the look he was giving me and it stuck me to the floor. It was a look of pure adoration and love. He was glowing. He also looked fucking sexy in that sweater and slim cream pants. This was the Julian who had been struggling to come out for so long. I was so grateful our lives had intersected, and then merged. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Julian,” I said.
Julian smiled at me. “Happy Thanksgiving. How did the turkey come out?”
“Beautiful.”
He sighed in relief. “Thank god. Now I just had to go make gravy before-”
Ding dong!
“…The Martens get here. Early as always.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Go make the gravy. I’ll distract them with wine.”
Julian glanced at his empty glass. “Yes, more wine is good.”

We laughed, and we kissed. I hoped we had many more holidays like this.

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Text is fictional.