By Sorbus

I left the letters where I’d dropped them, and apparently, somehow, teleported to the tiny front porch. OK, so maybe I walked up there without paying any attention, rereading and rereading his words. I didn’t even notice I’d knocked over Squatsie, the Garden Gnome in a sasquatch costume (come on, weirder things have been seen in the Pacific Northwest, right?).

I sat down with a thump, gasping as those not-anywhere-close-to-healing bruises hit the wooden boards that desperately needed a repainting. I reread the words one final time, then looked up, the hairs rising on the back of my neck. How’d he know I’d been eating at Mickey D’s? I reached up, brushing the sesame seeds out of the 3-day stubble around my mouth. No, there’s no way. He must have been guessing. There were only two fast food places in town here, and there’s no way I would ever eat at local grease pit.

I snorted, ‘kicked puppy’? Kicked puppy indeed! Ha! OK, so maybe my fellow grad student ‘office bestie’ had called me the same thing just a few hours ago. But surely this was just a coincidence! I looked at the post mark, realizing there. . . wasn’t actually one. Wait a minute! There wasn’t even a stamp!

“So, Sir, it looks like you’re missing me a little bit, are ya?” I smiled at that thought. I was fairly confident he didn’t need to be put in the ‘stalker’ category. After all, a stalker wouldn’t have let me leave. . . I shook my head, then flipped to the next page. My mouth fell open in surprise at what I read.

~Since you’re on page 2 now, it’s clear I still have your interest. You will put the keys to your chastity device in the little bag I’ve included, and you will mail them back to me. My address is written at the bottom of the last page. I’m going to positively presume you’ll get that far. Now, keep reading, because there’s quite a bit here.~

I immediately went to the next page and my mouth fell completely open. Yeah, I’d read about these, but I figured they were just as much a fantasy as those ‘enslaved by my roommate’ stories that I -used to – get off on. But the first paragraph made me realize he really was serious. Either he’d been an attorney in a former life, or he knew a kink lawyer. I snorted at that thought. Was that an actual thing? Statistically, I’m sure there were plenty of lawyers into kink, but to be a ‘kink lawyer’. . . Shaking that thought away, I continued on, but rereading that first paragraph one more.

I ____________________, being of sound mind, do hereby humbly request to enter into a Sir/Boy agreement with ___Derek J. Stevens___, who shall hereafter be called and addressed as Sir. I shall hereafter be called and addressed as Boy, with the understanding that Sir may change my title at any given time. My signature on the concluding line of this agreement officially declares my desire and willingness to enter such an arrangement. I recognize that this is a preliminary draft and a revised document will be signed after the parties of both parts have completed their designated sections of 6-7 ‘limits.’

I paused there, then slowly flipped through the pages. My heart dropped a little when I saw that he hadn’t signed it anywhere, but then I shook my head. Of course he wouldn’t have signed it. He was obviously waiting for me to prove I was serious about this. I read the pages twice, paying special attention to the section entitled ‘Agreement Alterations’- any adjustments that Boy wishes to make should be made here. Upon discussion with Sir, this agreement shall be adjusted and reprinted. This does not become an ‘official’ agreement until both Sir and Boy and signed the finalized document. That’s why he hadn’t signed it. Of course. Why would he waste his time with signing a draft?

I read the final page and got to my feet. I read it once more as I went inside, having completely forgotten about that fast food bag still sitting on the ground by my mailbox.

~In what I suspect is the HIGHLY LIKELY event that you agree to all of this, and you have written anything you wish to discuss for making any changes, you will sign this agreement and, along with your keys, you will mail it back to me. Send it overnight certified, because if something happens to your keys. . . that cage might be on you for a whole lot longer than you’d intended!~

Yeah, it was probably against my better thinking, but I poured myself a double shot of Crown Royal, the flavored kind. I barely registered the sting as it hit the back of my throat. Then, looking at the bottle, I poured myself another double.

I left the kitchen, carrying the papers in one hand and my booze- empty glass plus bottle- in the other. Sitting down on the thick cushion I’d placed on my desk chair two days ago, my fingers began to drum impatiently as my computer booted up. I poured myself a single shot this time, as I launched the web browser, and downed it while I waited. It was time to hit those darker corners of the internet, time to do some much needed research. . . something beyond those stories and porn clips.

It was hours later, when I finally stumbled into bed, collapsing under the weight and haze of flavored whiskey. I’d finally decided it was well past time to log off, realizing perhaps that there was some truth to “nothing good happens after 1 AM.” I knew know, I realized as I tripped and fell while trying to pull off my sock, how much not-good things happened after 2 AM. Morning would tell me just how scarred for life I’d be- assuming I even remembered what I’d been typing and doing, when I woke up…

The banging on my bedroom window, however many light-blinding hours later, had me shooting up, and immediately falling over and then falling out of bed.

“Yo! Rowan! Rise and shine dude! Come on! It doesn’t count as car pooling if I’m the only one who ever drives!” The voice was muffled through the double paned glass, but it was enough to get me stumbling to my feet.

“Hey, uh, bedroom? Would you do me a favor and stop spinning for me, please?” My words came out thick, spoken by a tongue that felt more like it had turned into shoe leather. I tried to swallow, but my mouth had zero moisture to offer. With my comforter pulled around me, I managed to stumble across the room. I whimpered as I managed to get to the window open, wincing at the protesting sound it made.

“Whoa. Why didn’t you text that you’re sick?” Jason, my ‘PhD candidate bestie but not quite best friend’ wrinkled his nose and then shook his head in disgust. “Never mind. You’re not that kind of sick, are ya? Well, let’s get going cowboy! I don’t care how hungover you are. I guess I’m driving again, but you’re going to be doing it for the next two weeks!”

“Key is in one of those key-hiding rocks. Next to Squatsie the Gnome,” I said as pressed the palms of both of my hands into my eyes. I groaned and lurched away as he slapped his open hand against the glass of the window.

“Get moving, cowboy,” he ordered. “You have 10 minutes to shower before I’m leaving you. Bring your toothbrush with you. It’ll be bad enough sharing a car with you, but I’m not sharing any office space until you get some fluoride on your teeth. But use some mouthwash while you’re in the shower.”

I stumbled away, just now seeing the time on my alarm clock, which I had obviously forgotten to set. I hurriedly dropped the comforter and lurched down the short hallway, to the bathroom.

“What the what? Hold up there!” Jason, having found the key and let himself in, grabbed my shoulder. “Are you. . . are you really wearing a collar? And are those wrist cuffs? What kind of a night did you have?!”

His laughter filled the air as my hand flew up to the throat. I groaned, then dashed into the bathroom. Of course he followed me.

“Seriously! A collar? What kind of freaky stuff are you into?” He snorted, shaking his head as he watched my fingers grasped in desperation, as I struggled to remove the collar and cuffs.

Yeah, those things were gear from my minuscule collection that easily fit inside the bottom drawer of my nightstand. Can it be called a ‘collection’ when there are only 6 items in total?

“Give me those,” Jason said, rolling his eyes as he pushed my fingers aside so he could remove it all. I barely noticed that he took them into the hallway with him.

My face flushed as I suddenly remembered, the final conversation in one of those chatrooms. That leather Sir who’d gotten me to ‘show off’ what little gear I had. It had been his final words that had caused me to exit out and stumble off, my eyes now wide open to the extreme side of what kinds of things existed out there. Yeah, I think the ‘theoretical side’ of my education was pretty complete now!

My mind spun as I jumped inside the shower and blasted myself with icy cold water. I was shivering uncontrollably as I hurriedly toweled dry, swishing mouthwash frantically.  Today was NOT the day I could be late. Yeah, clerical type of work was mind numbing at best, but today was when the new boss was taking over. Being late when the new Dean was showing up really wasn’t what a PhD student wanted to have happen!

“Come on, come on,” Jason was standing outside the bathroom door, tapping on his watch. “I would have gotten you some clothes, but I wasn’t sure what other kinky stuff you might have left out. Although, the collar does give me some ideas for my own boyfriend. Where’d you get it, by the way?”

“Amazon,” I said as I rushed back into my bedroom. I pulled on a pair of briefs, wincing as the fabric slid over my bruised glutes, and then hurriedly pulled on a pair of khaki pants. Yes, Wranglers were acceptable attire in the College of Ag Sciences, but I wasn’t sure they were dressy enough to meet the man who could crush my graduate plans in his hand.

“The cuffs too?” Jason asked, holding them up. “Cool, they have clips to attach a chain. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna get my boyfriend a pair of these.”

“Give me those.” I grabbed them and threw them over my shoulder, into the darkness of my bedroom. I re-entered the bathroom just long enough to grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. “Alright, let’s get going.”

“Whoa, hold up there just a moment, cowboy! What the what is this?” Jason was now holding the unfolded stack of papers, his eyebrows trying to crawl up to meet his hairline as he flipped through the letter and documents from Sir. I had no idea where he’d even found those! “I see why you have the collar and cuffs now. Dude, you’re one kinky freak, aren’t you?”

“Give me those!” I demanded, reaching out to snatch them away.

“No, no, no,” he said in a sing song voice, dancing away from me. “Hey, I’m not judging you. But I’m also not going to risk having to share any sort of office space with any other fellow grad student. It took me long enough to get used to you! I’ll hogtie you myself if it keeps the Dean’s secretary from shuffling people around. There’s no way I’m going to share space with Greene. He was raised on an onion farm and I swear that stink is embedded in his pores.”

“Seriously, Jason, please,” I shook my head, wondering what had happened to my life. “Please, give it back.”

He lowered the papers, quirking his lips as he made eye contact with me, before he spoke the single word of “no.”

I made a grabbing gesture, but unfortunately for me, he was the embodiment of a tall drink of water. He had a solid 6 inches on me, and he easily held the papers out of reach.

“Down boy,” he ordered. There was no trace of humor in his words. Unfortunately for me, I was entirely too unsteady to maneuver any sort of successful jump. He had to grab me, to keep me from falling completely. And, unfortunately for me, in an effort to keep me from falling backwards, one of his hands grabbed at the front of my belt. Which, as he did so, caused his knuckles to press against the hard shape of my cage.

“Oh,” he said. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess what you’ve got hidden there, especially considering what I’ve read in this ‘agreement.’ Wanna show the class what I’m pretty sure I just felt?” He said this as he released me, stepping back slowly with a mischievous grin.

I shook my head, dropping my eyes. I’m surprised the tube of toothpaste didn’t explode in my hand, as I clinched my fists in humiliation.

“Let’s go, boy,” he ordered, gesturing to the front door. I watched him tuck the papers under his arm, apparently planning on taking them with me. “Lucky for you, I’m driving. Or perhaps, unlucky for you. You know you’re going to have to show me that cage of yours.”

He hadn’t even pulled away from the curb before I had to open my khakis and show off my cage. His words cut through every excuse I tried to come up with. “You’re cocklet is covered, isn’t it, by the cage? So it’s not like I’m actually going to be looking at it. Besides, these windows are tinted, so nobody going’s to be able to see through them. And, no I’m not cheating on my boyfriend – it’s not like I’m going to be touching it. Pull it out and let me see it, otherwise I’ll take this contract agreement thing and will mail it back to your Daddy guy for you. I’ll include a note about how uncooperative you’re being and need to be punished!”

I was certain it was a hollow threat, but I began unbuckling my belt, unzipping, and folding the fly of my pants back. I pulled my cage through the fly of my briefs and rode that way, hands by my sides and praying we wouldn’t get in an accident. That was NOT how I wanted a first responder to meet me!

It was 10 grueling minutes later, when we finally pulled into the red-permitted student parking lot. He turned off the key, but didn’t make any movement to unbuckle his seat belt. He’d pulled out every excruciating detail, in all its sordid glory. He know new EXACTLY what kind of ‘trouble’ I’d gotten myself into.

“Wow, cowboy, that really is some story!” he chuckled as he ran a hand up through his hair, then looked over at me. I did, notice, however, that he needed to use a hand to adjust himself in his black slacks. There was definitely a bulge there that I hadn’t noticed before. “No wonder you’ve been such a miserable, useless sack of horse manure these past few days. Well, your secret is safe with me! I’m serious. I will NOT share an office with Greene. I’ll put cuffs and chains on your office chair if that’s what I have to do. And I want you to promise me that you will NOT mail these papers in until you let me read them in detail. I’m not going to risk my office mate disappearing into the woods because his caged cocklet got him into trouble.”

“Yes, fine,” I replied, barely above a mumble.

“Try again boy,” he said, his voice firm.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, feeling my face flame once again. But it was a bit of a struggle to get myself tucked back away and pants zipped back up.. There was definitely some straining going on, which of course he didn’t miss observing. I stared down at myself, as I got out of his car, wondering how I could possibly be straining right now. . .

To be continued …