Slave For Rent

by Samantha Cayto

  His master reached out and cupped the back of Danny’s neck once he arrived and steered him over to the truck. Danny loved this casual touch, such a simple way of claiming him and caring for him at the same time. It made Danny feel almost cherished in a way. He missed the contact as soon as they arrived at the truck and had to part to get into opposite sides of the cab. Once in, the master turned the ignition enough to roll down the windows. He took one of the cold bottles from Danny, rubbed it across his sweaty forehead before cracking it open to drink.

  Danny followed every movement, loving how masculine his master looked after hard work. The tips of his thick hair lay wet against the sides and back of his neck. Danny wanted to reach over and dry them with his fingers. He didn’t dare, though. He didn’t know the etiquette involved in being a pleasure slave. He should have asked Oliver more questions. If the leasing program continued, he’d be sure to fix that oversight in the coming week.

  The master shot him a grateful look when Danny handed him one of the sandwiches and a bag of chips. Neither of them said anything as they wolfed down the food. Danny hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become until his nose caught the first whiff of the roast beef. Damn, was it good. He didn’t usually get something this fancy for lunch. The lumberyard made sure none of them went unfed, unless they were being punished, but they still usually had cheaper lunch meat like bologna and turkey loaf, not roast beef. He practically choked he ate so fast.

  The master chuckled around his own mouthful. “Slow down, kiddo. There’s plenty of time and lots more food.”

  Swallowing his large bite, Danny nodded. “Yes, sir.” He chased the sandwich down with crunchy, salty chips, the strong flavor bursting on his grateful tongue.

  “As soon as we’re done eating, we’ll go shopping for clothes. I found this place nearby that caters to slaves. Then we’ll go to the market. We need more stuff for breakfast and I like to hang around the house on Sundays and catch up on housekeeping, so we’ll get something for lunch and dinner.”

  “Yes, sir,” Danny said again.

  He couldn’t imagine what the master wanted to buy him in the way of clothes. He had what he needed to work in the lumberyard. Maybe the master wanted him to wear something different at his home. That was a good sign, actually. It meant the man intended to bring him back the following weekend. That was assuming Danny didn’t screw up again and make him mad enough to end the deal. The housework plan didn’t bother him, however. He knew how to clean and he liked the idea of the master being able to sit with his feet up watching television while Danny made his home shine.

  True to the master’s word, as soon as they finished their lunch, they left. It took about a half hour for them to pull up to a large warehouse looking building in a strip mall area. Danny followed the master in and saw a barebones room filled with racks and flimsy shelves of clothing. People, free and slave alike, roamed around pulling things out to look at them. The master grabbed a shopping cart before Danny could do it for him and wheeled the thing over to an area with a large sign that said “boys”. Free people called male slaves “boy” regardless of age, so they wandered around a lot of shelves and racks before they found the ones with adult sizes.

  The master stopped in front of a pile of jeans. He looked Danny up and down critically. “What’s your size?”

  “Um, a thirty-thirty, sir.” Yeah, Danny hated being so skinny and while not short, not very tall, either. The master didn’t seem to mind. He’d picked Danny for his slave, after all.

  It took a bit of looking. Danny helped with the hunt and eventually, they found what they needed. The master pulled out two pairs of stone washed blue jeans and one pair of nicer black ones. He held each one up against Danny before tossing them into the cart. Danny wanted to object that it was too much, that he didn’t need so many pants. The look on the master’s face stopped him. The guy seemed really happy with the shopping. Who was Danny to deny him his fun?

  Next came T-shirts and a couple of button-downs. That was really more than what he needed. Dressy shirts made no sense. Nor did the pairs of socks and underwear that came after that. The final surprise was a new pair of black running shoes. Those they had to buy in the young boys section because Danny had the smallest male feet on the planet. Still, the master’s face lit up when he looked at Danny in his new kicks.

  “Perfect,” he declared. “Anything else?”

  Seriously, as if any of this had been Danny’s idea in the first place. The Master clearly waited for an actual answer, so Danny shook his head. “No, sir. This is plenty. Thank you so much. You’re very generous.”

  The master reached out and ruffled Danny’s hair. “Nah, you’re worth it. I want you to have stuff you can keep at the house so you don’t have to worry about packing a bag every weekend. Let’s check out and go to the market.”

  Danny felt far more comfortable shopping for food. He’d done it countless times with his mother and knew what to look for. The master left the choices up to him, given that Danny would be doing most of the cooking. Mindful of the fact that Master Paul didn’t have the same wealth as the Tanners, Danny stuck to store brands as much as he could. The breakfast and lunch foods were easy to figure out, but the master said he wanted to grill steaks for Sunday dinner, so when they got to the meat section, Danny looked up at him questioningly.

  Master Paul perused the steak selections for a minute with his lips pursed. Danny wouldn’t have been surprised if the man bought one steak and some hamburger for his slave. Instead, he picked up a package containing two rib eyes.

  “What the hell. It’s going to be our first Sunday dinner together at home. Let’s go for the good cut.” The master tossed the package into the cart. “Anything else?”

  “Um, what would you like for dinner tonight, sir?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he replied with a wink. “I’m taking you out.” He then sauntered away.

  “Out?” Danny couldn’t help asking the question. He followed the master, pushing the cart as he did so.

  The master backed up so that they walked side-by-side. “Yes, out to a restaurant.”

  “A restaurant?” God, what was his problem? Questioning his master was the surest way to earn a slap.

  Master Paul only grinned, though. “That’s right. Ever been before?”

  “No, sir.” Who took slaves out to restaurants? What restaurants allowed slaves in to eat?

  “Then I hope tonight is a real treat for you. Don’t worry,” he added. “I found a place that allows slaves in as eating customers.”

  Of course he had. Master Paul knew what he was doing. Danny had no business questioning him. He remained silent through the check out and the ride back to the house. He tried to put all of the groceries away, but the master insisted on helping. Then he decided they’d both do with a shower before going to dinner. As soon as he found out they’d be getting naked, for any reason, Danny’s palms broke out in a sweat. Maybe taking a shower was code for fucking.

  Or, not. Back in the bedroom, the master ushered Danny toward the bathroom. “You go first. The shower is pretty straight forward, but if you need any help, just give a holler.”

  Disappointed and relieved in equal measure, Danny did as told. The shower was a walk-in unit with glass doors and a big nozzle that had various spray options. Danny pleased himself by fiddling around with the settings until he suddenly realized that he might use all of the hot water, leaving none for his master. That fear drove him into the fast lane and he finished up within a couple of minutes. He stepped out and grabbed a thick, soft towel from the rack on the wall. For a few seconds, he reveled in the luxurious feel of it. Even at the Tanners, he hadn’t been treated to such comfort. The slaves didn’t live like their rich masters. He’d bet Oliver did, though. Danny couldn’t imagine Master Ben having two sets of linen in his house.

  The towel sucked up moisture quickly, so even his head had stopped dripping by the time Danny stepped back into the bedroom. His feet faltered when he
caught sight of his master standing by the bed, naked. Danny had to stifle back a gasp, as well. Even during the blowjob, Danny hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at his master’s body. It was all golden skin stretched taut over bulging muscles. He didn’t have a lot of hair on his chest, but a treasure trail led down to a thatch of curls the same light brown as the hair on his head. The cock lying flaccid within the nest didn’t look very long or thick, yet Danny knew that when aroused, it was formidable.

  The memory of his failure made him wince. God, how pathetic he’d been allowing an old experience that meant nothing intrude on this exciting opportunity to be with a man he desired. Danny must have made some kind of noise because the master turned his gaze from the bed where he’d laid out some of Danny’s clothes and looked at him.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” The master’s expression turned to one of concern and he padded over to Danny. He reached up and cupped Danny’s chin. “Is something wrong?”

  Danny stared at the middle of the man’s chest, their height difference making it hard to look him in the eye even if he dared to. While his brain scrambled to come up with a suitable reply, he also noticed for the first time the contrast in their skin tones. Danny rarely thought about how his parents’ blood had mixed to make him a little lighter than his mother and a little darker than his father. Free people and slaves alike came in all different shades. No one paid any attention to it, although he knew people had their preferences for skin, hair and eye color. Danny found he liked the difference between him and his master, and figured the master must also like it. Otherwise, he’d have chosen a different slave. A free person could pick out a slave at a brokerage house like picking out pants at a store—different colors and shapes and sizes.

  “Danny?”

  What? Oh, right, his master had asked him a question. He shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, sir.”

  That was only mildly a lie. The master rubbed his thumb lightly along Danny’s chin. It felt so good, he leaned into the touch, hoping for more. Now that he was clean, maybe the master would fuck him. Beneath the towel he had wrapped around his hips, his cock stirred at the thought. It became even happier when the master kissed Danny on the temple. But that was as far as it went. Danny hid his disappointment when the master released his hold.

  “Um, I picked out your clothes for tonight.” The master gestured toward the bed with one hand, yet the other hand hung not by his side, but in front.

  “Yes, Master Paul,” Danny dutifully replied.

  His attention, however, remained on what was going on underneath the master’s other hand. He could swear the master was trying to cup his cock and balls, which made no sense. Just seconds ago, he’d been parading around without any sign of self-consciousness. Although he couldn’t be absolutely sure, it looked as if the master’s cock had swelled, trying to escape the hand’s hold.

  “I’ll, ah, be done with my shower in a jiff and we can get going. I’m, um, starving.”

  With that uncharacteristically clumsy statement, the master shot by Danny and into the bathroom. The door shut with a resounding click. Danny stood rooted to his spot for a minute, straining to hear the sound of the master starting the shower. Had that simple touch made the master hard, and if so, why hadn’t he acted on it? He had the power to order Danny to his knees, or his hands and knees for that matter. Even if he were leery of making Danny throw up again, why not just fuck him?

  The only explanation was that Danny’s pathetic display the previous night had made the master skittish. Being a decent person, Master Paul worried that he’d make Danny sick again, or worse, cry like a baby, or something. That had to be it. This was all Danny’s fault. He was blowing the best chance he’d ever had at a sex life. If he didn’t make things right, he’d end up back at Tanner Lumber, a talented virgin woodworker. The thought of it depressed him so much it also made him bold. With only a moment’s hesitation, he whipped off his towel and carried it over to the bathroom door. He put his ear to it to confirm that the shower was running.

  The beat of his heart sped up so much, he had to practically swallow it back down. With the hand holding the towel to his stomach, Danny screwed up his courage and opened the door. Moist air hit him in the face. Ignoring it, he slipped inside and quickly shut the door behind him to keep the room from cooling off. He waited a second or two to see if the master had noticed him. When nothing was said, he forced his gaze up to the shower. His breath caught in the same throat that his heart continued to try to climb.

  With one hand braced against the tiled wall, the master stood with his head bowed under the spray. His other hand held his dick, the fingers wrapped tightly around the girth Danny’s mouth remembered well. The master jerked himself with fast, rhythmic strokes as if determined to get the job done quickly. With the steam inching up the shower door, it almost looked as if the master floated while he beat off. Enthralled by the sight, Danny crept closer, dropping the towel to his side. His own cock swelled with blood. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He wanted. Despite everything that had happened, he still wanted.

  The master’s suddenly jerked his head in Danny’s direction. The pumping fist faltered for a second, then sped up. The master’s mouth hung open and his eyes grew large, his gaze even at a distance looked wild. It was a look that a predator might give before gobbling its prey whole. A shiver ran through Danny’s body and his dick pulsed. It stood straight up, begging for attention. Danny didn’t dare give it any. His body belonged to the master, and if the master wanted to make him come, he’d say so, do so. Right now, Danny understood his role was to make the master come. He reveled in the task.

  “Closer,” the master mouthed and Danny complied, taking tentative steps toward the shower.

  Over the sound of the pounding water, the master’s grunts and groans could be heard. His fist all but flew up and down his shaft. Then the master’s shoulders began to shake. He leaned closer to the wall, pressed his forehead against his arm and shouted. Cum erupted out of his cock, past the curl of his fingers, the thick, milky whiteness easily seen even through the water. Danny moaned as he watched the master fist himself through his orgasm. When the master’s body stilled, Danny felt as if he’d come too. Except that his cock still throbbed and his balls hugged his body. It took great effort not to grab himself. Even so, his hand hovered near his erection of its own accord.

  The master stilled, watching him. “Do it.” As with before, no real sound came out, only his lips moving in a readable way.

  Danny didn’t hesitate to follow the order, understanding its meaning instantly. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he tugged. Once, twice and that’s all it took. He cried out as the climax shot through him. He had just enough presence of mind to slap the towel he still held over the cockhead to catch the spending before it dirtied the master’s floor. His eyes slammed shut and his body bucked as he came and came for seemingly forever. When the spasms finally subsided, he forced his eyes back open. He looked over at the master. The man still stood bent over the shower spray. He smiled lazily at him and Danny smiled shyly back.

  Their gazes remained locked for a few seconds before the master broke off. He straightened up and grabbed the bottle of shampoo. Taking that as a cue, Danny reluctantly turned away, but he couldn’t keep the broad smile of satisfaction off his face.

  Chapter Six

  When he returned to the bedroom, Paul found Danny all dressed, which was probably a good thing. Otherwise Paul would have been tempted to skip the idea of going out to eat and pull his slave into bed instead. Damn, the boy looked good in his black jeans and black button-down shirt. The only thing marring the image was the dull, black collar around his slender neck. If Danny had been born free, he might have ended up a model, except that he wasn’t tall enough. That suited Paul just fine. At five eleven, Paul was taller than most guys and he liked the way the boy’s head fit just under Paul’s chin. He closed the gap between them in a few strides and pulled Danny into a long, slow kiss. Thi
s time, he pressed his tongue inside Danny’s mouth for a lingering taste. They were both breathless when he finally ended it.

  “Best. Shower. Ever,” Paul said then kissed the top of Danny’s head for extra measure.

  He forced himself to let go and whip on some clothes. He was even hungrier than before and bet Danny was as well. Lunch seemed a long time ago, especially after a mind-blowing orgasm. He had them in the truck and on their way within minutes.

  “I’ve never been to this place we’re going to. I looked it up online. There are quite a few places that cater to free people and slaves equally. It’s kind of a subculture, you know, where free and slave don’t mean as much. People mingle with each other without worrying about who’s wearing a collar.”

  Paul slanted his eyes at Danny to gauge the affect his words might be having on the boy. Danny didn’t say anything, but his teeth worried his lower lip. Paul figured he at least was thinking about the idea that Paul floated in what he hoped was a subtle and non-threatening way. The restaurant was tucked away in a small town Paul had rarely been to. The place wasn’t exactly located on the main drag, either. Of course, the almost subversive idea of this kind of restaurant wouldn’t want to attract too much attention. You had to want to go to it to find it.

  The blinds were closed, so they couldn’t tell what it looked like inside until they’d actually entered. Cheery décor and an equally cheery hostess greeted them. The restaurant didn’t take reservations, but it was barely six o’clock and they were seated right away. The waitress handed each of them a menu once they’d sat down in their booth and wished them a good meal. Paul flipped open his menu and saw right away that progressiveness had its limits. The list of regular meals came first, then one for kids oddly enough, and then one for slaves. The slave selections and the kid ones were identical except for the slave prices being higher. Matching the greater amount of food no doubt. Paul intended to make sure Danny understood to order from the regular offerings, except he realized when he looked up that there was an even more fundamental issue to address.