Looking through his folder, he pulled out another set of papers.
"This is a contract outlining our relationship and your roles and responsibilities. I want you to read it carefully, then sign and date it. While it may not be legally binding, it is certainly admissible in family court as evidence. I don't wish to cause distress to your wife. But you need this contract for your own benefit. It's important that you understand your situation very clearly. And if you think about it, you know this is truly what you want and, more importantly, what you need.
"We'll leave you now to your reading. I'll be back at 3:00 to make sure you're ready for your 3:30 appointment. You're going to be a fine addition to the staff, Pleasure Giver."
With that, he and his wife left, with one last word. "Don't turn the deadbolt."
I sat in shock for a couple of minutes, letting it all soak in. This was more than I had expected. To this point, I had been in control, even if I tried to tell myself I was submitting. I chose to whom I would submit. I chose how he could use me. This, however, was different. I knew, even without reading it, that once I signed the contract, I would be giving up that control. Who knows what Mr. King would want me to do? Could I handle that?
Suddenly, I noticed my fingers in my mouth. For the last few minutes, my hand had been feeding me the precum that was leaking from my cock. I smiled and walked over to the desk to read the contract. It appeared my body was deciding for me.
The terms were straightforward. As a volunteer staff member, I was expected to be at the hotel during my assigned hours, unless I was sick. Any time off was to be approved two weeks in advance. On arriving at my assigned room, I would follow all instructions specified for that shift, as well as the general instructions I had already been given (and specified in Appendix 1). During my shift, I was to provide full and complete service to any and all customers, without exception. All anal penetration would be covered. All oral activities would be uncovered. No more than three men could use me simultaneously.
During my employment, I would not have sexual contact with anyone but my wife and people approved by management. Masturbation was permitted only if it was not to completion, unless directed by clients or management. No sexual contact with staff was permitted without prior management approval. If my services were required outside the hotel property, I would be accompanied by a member of management to monitor my safety and my successful completion of the assignment. There was an interesting exception to that: from time to time, management would assign me to pay an unsupervised house call on an approved client. Management would be responsible for vetting the clients and for ensuring my safety.
I would be required to maintain a presence on several specified social networking sites. Management would create and pay for the accounts and would assign the passwords so they could monitor my use of the accounts. I would be required to post regularly to the services; the frequency and content to be determined by site (Appendix 2). Any stories, ads or forum postings would be subject to prior approval by management.
Management's responsibilities were as follows: to maintain the cleanliness of my hotel room; to provide all toiletries, condoms and special clothing and equipment I may require to perform my duties; to respect a set of mutually agreed upon limits (Appendix 3), said list to be reviewed and revised monthly; to provide weekly testing for STDs; to provide training as deemed necessary to allow me to develop my skills; and to monitor and be responsible for my health and safety when engaged in hotel business. The benefits defined would constitute the full extent of management's responsibility to me.
So far, the contract was about what I expected. Then came the line that changed my life irrevocably: "By signing this contract, Soma, henceforth to be known as Pleasure Giver, voluntarily revokes his right to terminate this contract; he also agrees to abide by every instruction given by management and, without reservation, perform every duty specified by management that is consistent with this contract." In business talk, by signing the contract, I was agreeing to become the property of the hotel and to be a slave to management. I would no longer have a say in how I was used, who I saw, what I preferred.
The legal status didn't matter. If I signed it, I would be bound to it by own submissive nature. And in a flash, the epiphany came: Mr. King knew this. He knew that I would need this sort of compulsion to shed the last of my inhibitions. The contract would be my collar and he would be my Master. And with that realization, I took a deep breath and signed and dated the contract. Leaving it on the desk, I headed to the bathroom to administer the enemas and prepare myself. 3:00 would be here soon enough.
After the enemas cleaned me out, I took the razor and shave cream with me in the shower. After soaping down and cleaning myself (and how did they know which soap I used at home?), I soaped up my middle finger and inserted in my anus, wincing at the pressure. It had been a long time since anything had gone in there. I regretted not keeping a butt plug. Having confirmed I was clean inside, I proceeded to shave my crotch (very carefully, not being familiar with this brand of razor) and underarms. I then turned to my taint and ass crack, shaving them as best I could while not being able to see my handiwork. As I felt the smoothness and lack of stubble, I sighed, wondering how it would feel if I could shave the rest of my body hair, but knowing that would be impossible to explain to the wife. I almost turned off the shower before remembering my nipples. I quickly shaved a small circle around them, stepped out of the shower and dried off. My cock was still fully erect and dripping precum. Without thinking, I reached down with my two fingers and fed myself.
Walking toward the desk, I was surprised, but not shocked, to find the contract was gone. In its place was a medium sized butt plug, an injector filled with lube, a small packet of lube and a piece of paper. I picked it up and read it, trembling slightly.
"Pleasure Giver, congratulations on joining our team. We look forward to enjoying your services for many years. For your 3:30 appointment, lube up the plug. Then, use the injector to fill your ass with lube. Use it all: you'll be glad you did. Then insert the plug, clean off the excess from your ass, brush your teeth and use the mouthwash. Put on what you find on the bed. Wait on the bed."
Looking at the bed, I saw the omnipresent sleep mask and a short, pink kimono style robe. A pair of sparkling flip-flops sat on the carpet. What was going to happen at 3:30? What sort of kink did my client have? No need to wonder: I would find out soon enough. It was finally happening...my slavery was beginning.
The butt plug was a medium size one, but in hot pink rather than the blue or red to which I accustomed. After rubbing the lube on it and wiping the excess on my anus, I injected the lube inside my anus. I shivered, only partly because of the cold lube and then pushed the plug in. Having been without for so long, my anus resisted and I had to insert it slowly, in fits and starts, remembering to push out to accept it. The lubrication did its work, though, and I felt my ass pull it in as the widest part passed the sphincter and my anus closed in on the neck. I adjusted the base to align with my crack and wiped off the excess lube. I walked to the bed, feeling the familiar fullness and the background pain that I knew would recede but still be present. I recalled previous times walking in public while wearing a plug and my cock gave a twitch in remembrance. I had another taste of precum and realized this wouldn't be such a bad gig, as long as I remembered to load up on fruit juices.
I picked up the kimono and admired how smooth and silky it felt. I put it on, knotted the belt loosely and looked at myself in the mirror. The sleeves came down to just above my elbows and the hem stopped halfway between my knees and my crotch. The cloth covered my cock and balls, barely, but tented from my erection. I pulled the cloth aside, not wanting my precum to stain the fabric. I climbed onto the bed, put on the sleep mask and positioned myself propped up by pillows, with my legs together, tucked to my left with toes extended. I felt like a houri, waiting for her owner to claim her. My mind was swirling with fantasies. One hand was feeding me a steady diet of precum; the other was reaching inside my kimono to tweak my nipples. I had to be careful not to touch my cock at all, knowing that one touch would trigger an orgasm. The mental excitement had been more exhausting than I thought. The warmth of the room and the blackness of the blindfold combined to cause me to fall asleep...
...until I was awakened by Mr. King squeezing my balls gently.
"Wake up, Pleasure Giver. Time for your appointment."
I panicked for a moment being in darkness, but soon remembered where I was and what was happening. He laid the flip-flops in my lap.
"Put these on and let's go. We don't want to be late. By the way, the kimono looks good on you, but put your cock back inside. You don't want to be arrested for indecent exposure, do you?"
"What? I thought I had a client here at 3:30."
Silence from him, then a smack on my tush that caused me to jump and gasp. Why had he done that? Another smack told me I had better figure it out in a hurry. Then I remembered.
"No, Sir, I don't wish to be arrested for indecent exposure."
"That's better. I never said you have a client here at 3:30. I said you have a 3:30 appointment. And we're going there now. You'd best do something about that cock before we walk out the door."
I untied the sash, pulled my cock against my stomach and retied the kimono, using the sash to keep my cock pressed to my skin. He opened the door, took my hand and led me outside. I could feel the heat on my skin and hear my flip-flops as he guided me down the sidewalk toward his vehicle. The plug made its presence felt with every step. Even though I knew it couldn't fall out, I kept my legs together and took small steps, until Mr. King pulled me forward impatiently. I heard a few wolf whistles from higher floors and realized he was putting me on display.
