Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Scrambling off the bed, I stood by the dresser that doubled as a nightstand and faced the bear without thinking about it. “Good morning, Mr. Bear.”
God, how did I keep getting more turned on?
“Please…” Fuck. I could do it. I wanted to come later and Master was watching. Somehow. “Please tell my Master that I was a good slut last night. See?”
Aiming my dick toward the camera, I quickly moved my hands away so it didn’t look like I was playing with it. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Bear.”
My Master was clearly trying to give me a heart attack so he didn’t have to let me come later.
“I did it.” Fuck. I’d done it. “I was very good.”
I was also very lightheaded but I wasn’t sure if that was shock or not enough blood in my brain. There was enough to remember to give Mr. Bear his cheek kiss and focus back on my phone, though.
Thank God.
Good job, slut. But push out your ass. I need a better view.
From where?
Where was his view?
Obeying, I was vibrating with crazy energy as I waited for his next message to come in and unfortunately nearly screamed when his text and my alarm started going off at the same time.
Very nice.
And very jumpy.
He texted too fast.
“I wasn’t expecting the alarm. I’d been thinking about you, Master.” True and it sounded good, so I wasn’t surprised when a laughing emoji popped up next. “When…when can I ask about my orgasm later? If I’m good.”
I was going to have to drink less water before bed if we were going to do this every morning.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Shit.
He was fucking with me.
“I have to pee, Master. I’m sorry. Please?” I gave up trying to look like a real adult and wiggled, managing not to grab my dick but dancing around for him anyway since I had a feeling that was what he’d been looking for.
Fuck.
He’d made me even harder again.
I was never going to get to pee at the rate we were going.
“I’ll remember to be good tomorrow.” What else would make him happy? “I’m sorry I dawdled. I was nervous. Thank you…thank you for helping me be good.”
That’s much better, slut.
Oh, thank God.
Still wiggling side to side, I glanced around the room. “Are…are you going to be watching me for long?”
No. That wasn’t how I should’ve said it.
“I don’t want you to be late for work, Master.” Yes, better. “I’m sorry if I made you late.”
He got to the gym insanely early sometimes, so I honestly wasn’t sure if keeping track of me being a nutcase had put him behind.
Don’t worry, slut. I can watch you through my phone, so I can be anywhere.
Wow.
Trying to catch dicks again?
Shoot.
Closing my mouth, I swallowed hard and licked my lips. “Just yours, Master.”
Maybe later?
We’d said we were going to play the evening by ear, but I was starting to wonder how to get a more concrete plan from my busy Master.
“Can…” Could I ask that? “Um, can I come by later to work out? I know…I know you’re busy and…”
And something.
I was supposed to be worried about something.
Thankfully, he took pity on my un-caffeinated brain.
Yes, slut. Grab your gear when you leave for today and come by after work.
And?
Nope.
I hadn’t been nearly good enough to ask about specifics and we both knew it.
Leave the bathroom door open and I might call you a good boy again, slut.
He was trying to kill me.
“Can…can you see all the way in the bathroom?”
A laughing emoji and a devil were not nearly enough of a response.
Does it matter?
That didn’t help either.
Fuck it all.
“Good morning, Master.”
Nope, it didn’t matter and he knew that too.
****
“Just look like a functional human. Cyrus’s friend. I’ve been coming here for years. I’m his buddy. Everyone knows that.” My first step in looking functional was to stop talking to myself, but it was harder than it should’ve been as I walked up to Cyrus’s gym.
He’d built it from scratch and it was amazing, but most of his clients were bodybuilders or those types, along with a few fitness models that lived in the area. I was the shortest and skinniest guy there by a long shot, but I had to remind myself that he’d helped me get a pretty good body over the past few years.
I was more muscular dork than bodybuilder, though, but based on how the last week had gone, he didn’t seem to mind that. I couldn’t decide if I should have asked him more questions or made less assumptions in general, but it probably didn’t matter anymore.
What mattered was that I should’ve asked who was showing up at the gym.
Boyfriend?
Friend?
Sub?
Slut who fantasized about how wonderfully dirty the place made me feel?
“Hey, Weston.” The evening front desk guy was one of the bodybuilder types who traded work hours for free gym usage and was actually a nice guy. “Boss man is in the back and said to send you there when you came in.”