“Master L-Luke?” he managed to get out in a raspy voice.
“Yes. Thank you, boy,” I said in my Dom voice. I hated using it, but the tense way the boy was holding himself told me this would be a very official type of house call.
“Master Carl is in the living room.”
I nodded and followed him. My instinct was to ask his name, but with what I knew about Carl, he might not have had permission to share his name. Yeah, Carl was more into slaves than submissives. He liked to “break them in” which sometimes meant that they weren’t quite as willing as Allen would’ve liked.
I stepped into the living room. With the Chesterfield couch and armchairs, it seemed more like a pretentious AF library than an actual space meant to be used for relaxing.
“Ah, there you are, Luke,” Carl said, as if he’d had to wait for me instead of me being early.
I tilted my head politely and sat in one of the armchairs while he half-reclined on the couch.
“So, I was told to come here, but I don’t know why.” I propped my ankle on my knee and rested comfortably in the chair I didn’t like.
Carl chuckled. “Allen is meddling again.” Then, probably without meaning to, his gaze flicked toward the boy who was kneeling by the coffee table between us.
I sighed long and loud. “Well, in my experience, when he has the hunch….” I didn’t need to say more. Allen was a leader figure in the community’s gay, high protocol side. He didn’t often see things like for example, I did, but he knew his lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, even if it fascinated a lot of young people.
Carl hesitated, the corner of his mouth twitching a little. Then he nodded, as if acquiescing.
“May I speak with your submissive?” I asked, keeping my gaze on Carl. The boy tensed.
“Of course.”
“Alone and with freedom to speak openly and honestly?” I added the kicker, “Him included?”
Carl didn’t like that. But then he was likely in denial about whatever was happening here.
“Naturally.” He glanced at the boy. “Slave, take Master Luke to your room. Speak freely and honestly. Answer any questions he might have.”
The boy got to his feet and nodded, then turned his body minutely towards me. I got to my feet and walked to where the boy pointed.
I kept calling him a boy in my head. He was in his mid-twenties, maybe. He wasn’tmyboy, so the title didn’t feel like one I should be using.
As I was shown to his room, I blanched at the starkness of it. There were few personal belongings—a clearly well-loved stuffed toy cat by the pillow and a couple of books on the bedside table—and nothing felt… homey.
I sat on the desk chair and gestured for the boy to sit on the bed. “Close the door first.” When his eyes widened, I winced internally. “Only if you feel comfortable doing so.”
He seemed almost confused, but then closed the door and sat on the very edge of the bed. He was two seconds from wringing his hands.
“All right, let’s start with the basics,” I said evenly. I kept my voice light and conversational, seeing how it would affect him. “What’s your name and how old are you?”
He licked his lips nervously, then cleared his throat. “I’m Bear; I’m twenty-six.”
I smiled. “Never met anyone called Bear before. I’m Luukas, but most Americans call me Luke because it’s easier.”
Bear blinked a few times. It seemed as if he wanted to ask questions but then just nodded and lowered his gaze again. As he did so, he seemed to realize he’d looked me in the eye and twitched back.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’d prefer if you’d make eye contact when we chat. You don’t have to if it feels too much, but I’m not strict about that.” Never really had been. Eyes were the windows to the soul, and as a Dominant, I needed to see into the soul of my submissive.
“Okay,” Bear whispered.
“Do you have a contract with Master Carl and how long have you been with him?”
He took in a deep breath and then nodded. “We do have a contract, and I’ve been here for about two months now.”
It was longer than I’d thought. I looked around the room again. “And this is your room?”
