He looked at me and smiled. “I knew you were the type. I could see it the moment I laid eyes on you in The Dungeon. I watched you twitching, eyes scanning the room. You wanted to fuck so badly, but you were looking for someone to tell you what to do, because you’re not strong enough to act on your own.”
I was really hard now, because I knew he was right. Master understood me so well, and contemplating that made me throb.
Master licked the tip of his finger and drew it slowly across the dragon’s head. “It must be hard to admit, even to yourself, that you lack the strength to control your own life. That you don’t even want to. You took a big step when you wrote that letter. How did that feel?”
“I felt relieved,” I admitted.
Master laughed. “That’s exactly what Suresh told me, back in the day. Suresh grew up in a strict family. When he found he was gay, they couldn’t understand it, let alone reconcile themselves to it. They disowned him. He was about your age and begging in the street when I found him. I gave him what he needed: a surrogate father who was every bit as strict, but also accepted him for what he was.”
I was quiet for a moment. I still wasn’t sure if I liked Suresh or not. “I thought Suresh was your first.”
Master slapped my balls. I yowled. “Talking out of turn,” he said, but then he added, “Yes. Suresh was the first slave I kept for more than a weekend. He’s still mine, six years on.”
#
We sat together on the aft deck until the last purple traces of sunset had faded. Master stroked me over and over, but delicately: not satisfying my desire but simply ramping it up to new heights. He had a way of working my dick that made me want more. And more.
I wondered how many other slaves Master worked on to learn this singular talent. I felt grateful for them, or rather for their dicks, providing Master with the opportunities to hone the talent he was now applying to me so skillfully.
Only after I was trembling, as if I would explode from pent-up desire, did he at last offer me relief.
After I caught my breath, we went to dinner. Master heated a batch of sweet and sour pork with broccoli, but instead of making me wait, he fed me along with himself, popping bits of pork or broccoli florets into my mouth with his chopsticks, or spoon-feeding me rice soaked in sauce.
We’d had such a lovely evening together, I dared to hope Master would let me sleep with him, but no. Master took me to bed with him to watch TV, some detective movie from the Sixties I’d never heard of. Most of the movie was dull, but there was one scene where the detective-hero forced his way into a gay bar and treated everyone there like shit, which made me angry. After the movie was over, Master escorted me to my own little room and put me down for the night.
He could tell I was disappointed. “Suresh says it’s for the best,” he reminded me.
“Fuck Suresh.”
Slap! Slap! Master slapped my ass cheeks. “Language. Suresh had a hard life. Show the guy a little understanding.”
What about my life? I wanted to ask, but my ass was stinging, so I kept quiet.
Master left me alone with my thoughts.
What did Suresh’s hard life have to do with whether Master and I slept together? That didn’t make sense.
Why was Suresh the only slave Master kept for so long? Suresh told me himself what had happened to the others.
What was so special about Suresh anyway?
On days like today, it felt as if Master and I had a real connection, and I dared to hope this might end well for me. Master seemed to enjoy being with me. Maybe he would decide to keep me. He’d hired Suresh to manage his house and he allowed Suresh to wear clothes, though I never saw him dressed in anything more than a sarong around his waist. Master even allowed Suresh to talk back to him, yet there was still a master-slave vibe there. Suresh ranked higher than I did, but Master could command Suresh to allow himself to be fucked, and Suresh would obey without resistance.
That might have made me feel jealous, had not Master let me in on the fucking. Hey, I got to be the dick that Master fucked him with.
I had enjoyed that enormously.
If Master could find a permanent place for Suresh in his life, why couldn’t he do the same for me? I assumed Master had a house in or near San Francisco. Why couldn’t I be the Suresh of that house? He could find himself another slave and let me help train him. I would be more trustworthy than Suresh; I wouldn’t fuck his slave behind his back.
There were times, like this evening, when I dared to hope, but then I remembered how distant he’d become. This was his way of letting go. As was kicking me out of his bed every night.
Master had trust issues. And I was that guy lying naked in his bed while Master wondered if I would come back to rob him, or simply blackmail him.
I only wanted Master to be happy. Master understood me better than anyone in the world, but he would never be able to trust me. Master could never be at peace with me, because I was a threat to him. I had become an obstacle to the happiness we both wanted for him.
Guilt and shame overwhelmed me.
It was then I realized what I needed to do. If Master could not find happiness with me, I would make sure he could find it without me.