Kyle
As I sat thinking in my home office, I began to smile. I was sipping on a glass of Merlot, holding my glass as if I were about to give a toast. This time the toast was for me. I'd passed a personal milestone, something I'd wished for since my first short story. Even now it's hard to believe.
The mental recording of my father telling me there was no way I'd ever make a decent living as a writer played once again through my memories as it had a thousand times when money was tight or sales were slow. He'd urged me to always make sure to prepare myself for a 'real' job, and he'd succeeded in that effort. My 'real' job would have been teaching. It was always there as a fallback, but so far it hadn't been necessary for me to teach a single class. While waiting for an opening, I'd secured a job writing manuals for a manufacturing conglomerate. The engineers would write the original manual, and I would translate it into words that real people would be able to understand.
Sitting down in my armchair, I allowed the events of the day to slowly sink in. On my desk sat my copy of the contract with Glenn Bass, who was about to become my very first agent. I was more than just a little frightened because he expected me to produce a lot more than I had in the past.
I jumped at the opportunity, carefully digesting the contract, signing it, and running to the post office as though he might change his mind. The idea that a person would be working to sell my books to publishers so I could spend my time writing was well worth the cut he'd be taking. Marketing took a lot of my time. Between writing novels and translating manuals, I didn't have much time to sell my work. Marketing just wasn't my thing.
Glenn had a pending acceptance of the manuscript I'd sent him and was "excited by my prospects." I suspected he said that a lot, but it still felt good. The best part of the deal was my ability to work from home, but it was going to require a big sacrifice on my part.
I sat back to imagine what changes I needed to make to meet my new challenges. I knew I'd have to be practical and thrifty with my time. I'd pick up groceries once a week to avoid the crowds. I'd buy prepackaged meals, freeing up time I'd spend cooking.
I had a gym in the third bedroom. I didn't want my body to suffer because I'd be spending so much time at my keyboard. I could exercise while I worked on a plot at the same time. The nice thing about writing was that plot ideas came to me on their own schedule. It wasn't uncommon to be deep in thought about my characters while I was on the exercise bike or doing dishes.
I'd grown used to heading down to the local bars or hopping online to see who else was there when I was so inclined. That took up a lot of time. If I ignored that, I knew it wouldn't be long before my concentration would wander away from what I should be doing and into my pants instead.
The answer to my dilemma was obvious. I needed a regular. I didn't want just any regular. I had to be able to rely on this guy. He had to want me as much as I needed him, and it had to be often, real often. Knowing this was the only way I'd be able to keep my concentration where it belonged, I went online, logged in to my favorite site, and modified my personal information, creating a whole new profile.
The headline read: 'Busy Dom seeks regular.'
'I'm a busy man and have little time for socializing. I'm looking for someone in a similar situation. I am only interested in meeting a submissive. Sessions will be daily. Only submissives need answer my ad. In your return email to me write 'submissive' on the subject line and tell me what you are looking for and what you consent to.'
The website provided a forwarding email, so I didn't have to release mine to the public. It wasn't going to be easy to find someone acceptable and willing to visit daily, but for me that was the only way. It would keep me from thinking about what I'd be missing. I preferred someone around my age or possibly a little younger.
Then I hit the publish button and waited.
The following morning, I started the first of what would be many twelve-hour days. This had to work, and dedication was the only way. Oddly, working this hard promised to save me a ton of money. One of the things you can't do when you're writing is shop. My needs seemed to somehow be less. My meals were reduced to warming frozen dinners or toaster pancakes. I wasn't going out to bars to meet guys, so a lot of minor expenses vanished overnight.
*~*~*
Preston
It was time to come out. Watching my friends and soothing their broken hearts made me cautious as hell. When my roommate Jake went to the bars, I stayed in, because I was afraid. I'd never done anything with a man before, and I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. It wasn't long before my mind began to wander to things having nothing to do with my studies. Unfortunately, I had no experience to fanaticize about, but it was time I did. Rather than go hunting, I did what I knew best. I turned it into a project. This time I was researching gay lifestyles and gay sex. After reading some of the clinical stuff, I started going to the pickup sites and occasionally watching porn. It's amazing what a novice can learn from that. Each site I visited was different and some catered to specific preferences.
I was amazed at how many activities a gay person could pursue. There were people who were tops and people who were bottoms. Other people were completely flexible. I read posts of men who only liked younger guys and other men who only liked guys who were a lot older than they were. Some men liked fat guys and others liked doing things outside of the box, something I'd never given much thought. After that, the fantasies I drifted off to sleep with each night tended to be about guys kneeling, blindfolded or tied. They were always of an unusual nature. Being held in place and made to perform was my favorite.
While all of it was unusual to me, some of the less traveled sites drew me back time after time. Before long, every time I sat at my computer to research my own sexuality I ended up reading about leather, submission and dominance, and pretty much anything else I could find that didn't fit what I'd always thought was the norm.
Submission sounded comfortable and easy. As a person with zero experience, the idea of letting someone else tell me what to do was comforting. It would take the pressure off me. After a lifetime of struggling to excel, having another person guide me, who actually wanted to do that, sounded perfect. Besides, dominance seemed to be a characteristic of the guys I was attracted to the most. It was obvious that reading about relationships like this had a profound physical effect on me that I couldn't ignore.
One day I was looking at one of the personals adds on my favorite site. The guy was not far away, he wanted someone everyday and he was a Dom. It sounded perfect to me, so I wrote my first response.
"You sound ideal. I am a medical student and study around the clock. I just need a guy I can see for a short time each day. I've researched being a sub, and it certainly sounds like me. I've never actually subbed before. I would ideally just come to you and follow your instructions, taking care of your needs and leave. If that works for you, I suggest we meet. I am 22, blonde and have a swimmer's build. I have no time for relationships, but like you, I think I need this. If this is what you want, you know what to do."
*~*~*
Kyle
As I sat at my computer, a little box opened up on top of my manuscript signaling me that a new email had arrived. The name was unfamiliar, and it didn't strike me as junk mail. After reading the title 'Submissive' I was happy to see the first words of the reply were, "You sound ideal."
I wrote back. "I work from home and because I do, I can vary my schedule to match yours. Please let me know when you want to come over. I look forward to meeting you."
Within seconds, a reply hit the screen. "How about tonight at seven?"
I replied with my address and mobile number, reminding him once again that I was only interested in someone who was available to meet daily.
Looking at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to grab a shower. That would give me a couple hours to get rid of the right-out-of-the-shower smell.