Chapter 11: Details
The stillness after Dominic’s climax was profound, thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and the faint, startling sweetness of his newly milked excretions. Dominic slumped, trembling, held upright only by Daveed’s powerful arms. His vision swam, tears drying on his cheeks, his body a map of sensation: the deep ache in his ass, the throbbing tenderness of his breasts, the cooling wetness on his belly, the utter emptiness of his spent cocklet. Daveed’s tongue, rough and warm, continued to trace paths up his torso, collecting stray droplets. The silence stretched, filled only by their ragged breathing and the distant, comforting drone of a lawnmower somewhere down the street. Daveed rose smoothly, his movements economical, purposeful. Gone was the primal ferocity, replaced by a calm, focused intensity. He guided Dominic’s boneless form towards the comfortable couch by the window. Dominic sank into it gratefully, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the cool leather and Daveed’s demanding grip moments before. Daveed jogged to the kitchen and returned with two large glasses of water, making Dominic realise how parched he was. Daveed sat next to him and encircled Dominic with his powerfully defined arms. He pulled a nearby blanket over them both. A gesture of care, laced with possession. They both took a long draft of water.
"Alright, Dommie baby," Daveed began, his voice low and steady, devoid of the earlier growl but carrying undeniable weight. "Now that we’ve both been... settled...?" A ghost of a smile touched his lips, "Would you agree?" Dominic nodded his head quickly and deliberately, inadvertently rubbing his head over Daveed's meaty chest. "Good." He kissed Dominic's forehead. "Time for the specifics, then. The expectations." Dominic blinked, trying to focus. His mind felt foggy, overloaded. He nodded mutely, the movement small. "Try not to worry, I'll go slowly and you can ask questions at any time, now or later. You will have access to all of this information soon enough. Remember the link I sent you? Those locked folders?" Dominic nodded again, enjoying the feel of Daveed's hairy pecs brushing his cheek again.
"First," Daveed said, holding up a thick finger. "Availability. You’re mine now. My Slut." The title landed softly, a fact, not a question. "That means your body is available when I require it . No matter what happens, you mustn't give yourself to another. Not if you can stop it. When I call it is because my body is telling me to, that I have a need of you. It's not about when you feel like it. Not when it’s convenient. When I say." He paused, letting it sink in. "I’ll give you schedules. Times. Places. Sometimes here. Sometimes elsewhere. You clear your calendar. You show up. Promptly. Ready to go. Like you were today." His lips gently brushed Dominic's forehead, reminding Dominic of his approval and acceptance. Then his gaze flickered meaningfully over Dominic’s dishevelled state. "Speaking of clean, that natural gift of yours?" Daveed shook his head, a hint of that earlier awe returning. "It is indeed a fucking miracle. But it doesn’t mean you get lazy. Basic hygiene. Always. Understood?" "Yes," Dominic whispered, the word scraping his throat, despite the coolness of the refreshment. The sheer practicality of it, after the recent intensity, felt thoughtful and grounding. "You may have already noticed that you don't want any soap or synthetic smells around you. Whilst your body is now in balance, water is still a necessity. Don't skip showers or baths. Always carry water with you. And your skin will drink up as much oil as you can give it. Although I'd prefer to do that last part," Daveed teased. Dominic took all of this in, fascinated.
"Second," Daveed continued, raising a second finger. "Presentation. You belong to me. We covered your cleanliness but it also means dressing appropriately. For your role." He gestured dismissively at Dominic’s ordinary clothes, discarded earlier. "No more hiding in baggy khakis and polo shirts, Dommie baby. Not when you’re serving. You’ll wear what I provide. Things that showcase your assets." His eyes lingered pointedly on Dominic’s chest beneath the vest. "Things that remind you of your place. Things that make access easy. Things that make you feel sexier than ever" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Got some lovely little numbers thought out already. Silks. Lace. Things that’ll frame those pretty tits and that sweet little cocklet just right." Dominic giggled delightedly, unexpectedly, and quickly covered his mouth, feeling a fresh wave of heat flood his face, mingling with the lingering shame. The idea of being dressed, deliberately displayed, sent a thrilling jolt through him. "None of that," Daveed insisted. "Let out what needs to come out. And trust the process. Oh, and, if you're interested, I can help you punch up your normie wardrobe too. The organisation has more benefits than sexual depravity". Dominic turned his head to make eye contact with Daveed. "Goodness, yes please," he sighed. "I... I'm not sure I can face that person any more." "I know," Daveed responded, "but we mustn't rush. We mustn't draw too much attention."
"Third," Daveed held up a third finger. "Communication. You answer your phone. Immediately. Texts. Calls. Doesn’t matter if you’re in a fucking board meeting." He chuckled lightly. "Well, maybe especially if you’re in a board meeting. You respond. ‘Yes, Sir.’ ‘Understood, Sir.’ Simple. Clear. Respectful. No excuses. No delays." His gaze hardened fractionally. "Silence is disobedience. Ignoring me is defiance. We don’t tolerate that." Dominic swallowed hard. The rules felt like walls closing in, yet also strangely liberating. No ambiguity. No decisions. Just obedience. "Yes, sir," he nodded.
"Fourth," Daveed raised his last finger. "Commands. When I give you an order, you follow it. Instantly. Without question. Without hesitation. Without rolling those pretty eyes." He winked, softening the command slightly. "Whether it’s ‘put on the robe,’ ‘kneel,’ ‘suck,’ ‘spread,’ or ‘fetch me a goddamn glass of water.’ You move. You obey. Your body is mine to command. Your mind learns to follow." He paused, letting the absolute nature of it settle. "This is non-negotiable. It’s the core."
Dominic nodded again, more vigorously this time. "Yes, Sir." "Good boy," Daveed murmured, the praise warm and immediate. "Fifth," his thumb now raised. "Punishment. You tell anyone about the organisation?You fuck up? You disobey? You’re late? You’re disrespectful? You fail to meet expectations?" He shrugged, a casual, chilling gesture. "You get punished. Simple as that. It’s not personal, Dommie. It’s instructive. Necessary. To correct you. To reinforce the rules. To remind you of your place in the grand scheme of things." He met Dominic’s wide eyes squarely. "It won’t be fun. It will be unpleasant. Sometimes painful. But it’s fair. And it’s deserved. Understand?" Dominic’s breath hitched. The casual delivery made it more frightening. "Yes, Sir," he managed, his voice thin.
"Six." His fist closed. "Maintain your life. Notice how you feel now, how settled you are feeling, how clean you feel, how complete". Dominic smiled and nodded. "That's what happens when you serve me. When you respond to your nature, you won't be run ragged by random feelings and impulses. If regularly attended to, you will find your life easy. You will be unbothered and happy to just exist in whatever moment you are in. It would be easier if you were single, obviously, living alone, but I will try to honour your current schedule and this time I can help you come up with an action plan that will help all of this along. However, my needs drive me to guide and teach you, so allowing for your commitments may not always be possible."
"Finally," Daveed said, his tone shifting slightly, becoming almost gentle. "Me. Your Trainer. Your Guide. Your Protector." He crouched down before Dominic’s chair, bringing their eyes level. "My job isn’t just to command you, Dommie. It’s to care for you. To push you. To unlock that incredible potential I see screaming inside you. To teach you how to be the best Slut you can be. To find the pride in it. The joy." He reached out, his thumb brushing a stray tear track from Dominic’s cheek. "I’ll sometimes be hard on you. Demanding. Uncompromising. But I’ll also be here. To answer your questions. To soothe your fears. To tend to you." He gestured vaguely towards Dominic’s exhausted body. "You trust me, completely, with your body, your mind and your soul. With your submission. With your training. That’s the deal."
Dominic stared into Daveed’s dark, earnest eyes. It wasn't that everything was suddenly ok. The fear was still there, a cold knot in his stomach. The old shame flickered. But beneath it, stronger now, was that burgeoning sense of terrifying rightness. Of belonging. Of being seen, truly seen, and valued for the hidden, desperate thing he now realised he was. "Yes, sir" he said clearly, holding Daveed's gaze. Daveed smiled, a genuine, warm expression that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Good."
Daveed stood, his powerful frame stretching towards the ceiling, the muscles in his back rippling like coiled cables beneath his skin. "Right then," he announced, his voice relaxed yet carrying that underlying command. "Enough talk for now. Finish the water," they both emptied their glass. He surveyed Dominic slumped on the couch, a picture of trembling exhaustion, skin gleaming with milk, sweat, and the faint, musky residue of their encounter, all slowly being absorbed into his skin. Daveed’s expression softened further, a stark shift from angry, dominant young man he had first encountered. "We need refreshing. And we need to find the space between the admin and the fuckin'." He extended a hand, not demanding, but offering support. "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Properly this time. No more lick baths. Where is the roomiest shower?" A small, genuine smile touched his lips.
Dominic hesitated for only a breath, his body aching and overwhelmed. "Upstairs," he breathed, before slipping his trembling hand into Daveed’s larger, warmer one. The simple contact grounded him. Daveed pulled him up gently, looping a strong arm around his waist as Dominic swayed. "Easy there, Slut," Daveed murmured, guiding him steadily across the plush rug and down the short hall towards the stairs. The scent of sex clung to them both, mingling with Dominic’s unique sweetness and the faint, citrus aroma of his Stud. Once they were on the landing, Daveed pushed the bathroom door open with his foot.
Warm, slightly humid air greeted them, leftover from Dominic’s earlier shower. Daveed didn’t turn on the main light; instead, he flicked the extractor fan on low and used the softer glow from the vanity lights. He reached past Dominic to twist the shower knobs, testing the spray with his hand until steam began to curl upwards. "Temperature good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble near Dominic’s ear. Dominic reached his fingers out until they grazed the warm spray and he nodded mutely, still leaning heavily against Daveed, mesmerized by the falling water and Daveed’s solid presence. Daveed carefully peeled the torn remnants of the terry vest from Dominic’s shoulders, letting them drop to the tiled floor with a soft whisper. The cool air made Dominic’s swollen nipples peak instantly, a thin bead of milk reappearing on one tender tip. Daveed noticed, his gaze lingering with appreciation as his lips kissed the peak, consuming it, but his hands remained gentle. Dominic stood completely naked and vulnerable under the muted light, the faint marks from Daveed’s earlier handling visible on his pale skin.
Daveed's nakedness was powerful and unselfconscious beside Dominic’s trembling form. He guided Dominic under the warm spray. "Just stand," Daveed instructed softly, positioning him so the water cascaded over his shoulders and back first. Dominic closed his eyes, a sigh escaping him as the heat soaked into his sore muscles, easing the deep tremors. Daveed stepped in behind him, the ample space suddenly intimate, the sound of the water filling the enclosure. Large, warm hands settled on Dominic’s shoulders, kneading the tension with surprising gentleness. "You did good today, Dommie. Real fucking good," Daveed murmured, his breath warm against the wet skin of Dominic’s neck. His thumbs worked small circles at the base of Dominic’s skull.
Daveed’s hands moved slowly, methodically. He smoothed water over Dominic’s back, tracing the knobs of his spine, the slight curve of his waist, the swell of his ass. His touch was purposeful and cleansing, not arousing, though the intimacy was undeniable. He turned Dominic gently to face him, the water plastering dark hair to Dominic’s forehead. Daveed cupped water in his hands and let it stream over Dominic’s chest, careful around the sensitive, milk-dampened nipples. He used his fingertips then, tracing the contours of Dominic’s torso and the soft swell of his breasts beneath. His touch was light, reverent almost. "Beautiful," he murmured, more to himself than to Dominic, catching a stray milky droplet on his thumb and slowly pushed it into Dominic's slack mouth.
He moved lower, his hands slicking over Dominic’s belly, his hips, the sparse trail of hair leading downwards. He cleaned Dominic’s small, soft cock and tight balls with the same careful, impersonal attention. Dominic watched, breathless, as Daveed knelt before him in the spray, his powerful body glistening. Daveed’s hands slid down Dominic’s thighs, calves, ankles, lifting each foot briefly to rinse the sole. The care was overwhelming. Daveed then turned his attention to Dominic’s ass, spreading the cheeks gently under the water’s flow, allowing it to cleanse the area, his touch firm but never invasive, just ensuring the water reached everywhere. The intimacy of it, the sheer exposure and the profound lack of demand, made Dominic’s throat tighten.
Daveed stood, water sluicing down his own powerful chest and thick thighs. He pulled Dominic close under the spray, enfolding him in a loose embrace. Dominic rested his forehead against Daveed’s soft but powerful chest, the heat of the water and Daveed’s solidity a sanctuary. Daveed’s hands moved slowly across Dominic’s back again, soothing, stroking, his chin resting lightly on Dominic’s wet hair. They stood like that for a long moment, simply letting the water run over them, the steam rising, the only sound the rush of the shower and their quiet breathing. The frantic energy, the pain, the sharp pleasure, all seemed to dissolve in the warm, encompassing flow. Daveed’s grip was secure, possessive, yet profoundly protective. Dominic felt clean, inside and out, held in a way he’d never known.
Daveed finally reached past him, turning off the water. "What about you, Sir?" Dominic enquired. "I thought I would be returning the favour." "Not today, not when you're so new to all this. We will get there. But we aren't rushing anything. I think you're going to hear me say that a lot." He barked a short laugh. "You're drained, in so very many ways. The water replenishes some of that, as does my touch. Let's leave it there for now," Daveed instructed, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth, his tongue slipping just inside, possessive, but gentle. The sudden silence felt loud. He grabbed a large, fluffy towel from the heated rail, wrapping it around Dominic’s shoulders, pulling him close again, rubbing warmth back into his chilled skin. "There," Daveed said softly, his voice thick with an emotion Dominic couldn’t quite name. "That’s my Slut. Clean and cared for." He pressed a firm, dry kiss to Dominic’s temple, the gesture simple and final.
"Now, more practicalities. First assignment." He slipped out of the bedroom and disappeared downstairs, returning a moment later with a nondescript duffel bag Dominic hadn’t noticed before. He unzipped it and pulled out a bundle of soft, dark fabric. "Put this on. Nothing else." He tossed the bundle onto Dominic’s lap. It unfolded slightly – a simple, sleeveless shift made of soft, sheer, dark jersey knit. It looked vaguely feminine. But not that different from a night shirt, which he'd tried to wear for a few years. He'd liked them, but Hilary had laughed at him, and that had put a stop to it. Dominic looked down at the garment, then up at Daveed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Daveed raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Problem, Slut?" Dominic took a shaky breath, his fingers closing around the soft clothes. The scent of the fabric smelled like Daveed - citrus and wood, vibrant and earthy. He looked from the garment to Daveed’s expectant face, then towards the distant sound of people going about their lives outside. Car doors. Chattering. The old life, the quiet dissociation, felt like a fading dream. This, the dedication, the rules, the soft dark fabric in his hands, this was terrifyingly, exhilaratingly real. He met Daveed’s gaze, a spark of determination igniting beneath the haze of exhaustion and submission. "No, Sir," he said, his voice finding a sliver of strength. "No problem."
Reaching for the dark shift felt like picking up a uniform. Or a shroud. It slipped over his head easily, the cool, silky jersey clinging instantly to his freshly dried skin. It was simple, sleeveless, falling loosely to mid-thigh. But it framed his chest unmistakably, the fabric draping softly over the curves Daveed had praised. The neckline dipped just low enough to reveal his hairy torso and the tops of his breasts. He stared at his reflection again. The man in the rumpled cotton shirts was gone. Someone else looked back – vulnerable, exposed, undeniably different. Shame warred with a terrifying spark of something else. Relief? Recognition? The garment looked alien, yet unnervingly comfortable against his skin, the citrus scent Daveed had chosen a subtle counterpoint to his own creamy sweetness.
Daveed's dark eyes swept over Dominic, head to toe, lingering deliberately on the way the dress hugged his body, on the exposed line of his throat, the damp hair clinging to his temples, his large, soft, puffy nipples clearly seen through the fabric. Dominic noticed Daveed's cock twitch and begin to lengthen, his foreskin beginning to retract. A slow, satisfied smile spread across Daveed’s face, predatory and approving. Dominic almost mirrored it. "There you are," he murmured, his voice warm honey laced with possession. "Perfect fit. Suits you, Dommie baby. Shows off exactly what you are."
Dominic’s face flamed, but he held the gaze, the spark inside him flaring under that look of absolute ownership. Daveed pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them in two strides. His large hand came up, not roughly, but with deliberate firmness, cupping Dominic’s face, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "Look at that," Daveed breathed, his eyes tracing Dominic’s features. "Calm. Settled. Even after all that." He chuckled, a low rumble. "See? Told you your body knows what it needs. What it is."
He dropped his hand but kept his intense focus. "This is a temporary garment. I will need to measure you for the correct attire to be made. As I said, there are plenty of perks when it comes to the organisation. Now, sit and relax for a moment", he insisted. Daveed then rummaged in the duffel and brought out a fresh set of clothes for himself. He slowly, tantalizingly got dressed. Sitting on Hilary's dressing table chair, putting on one sock at a time, a leg crossing his knee, his weighty cock and balls hanging down, over the edge of the chair. Dominic was transfixed. "And it's all yours, Dommie baby," Daveed was teasing him. He stroked his dick lightly, retracting the foreskin, creating one large drop of precum. "Crawl over here and get your snack, Slut". Dominic almost flew across the room, desperate to be the best Slut he could be. His tongue was out before he got to Daveed and it caught the heavy droplet as it began to fall. Gathering it on his tongue as he rose, his lips almost touched Daveed's cock, but something made him pause. He looked up. "One lick. That's it. Or we'll never leave this bedroom." Dominic's gaze suggested he wouldn't have a problem with that, but Daveed's expression didn't give an inch. He flicked his tongue across Daveed's piss slit and held the fluids in his mouth, desperate to savour them.
Daveed finished getting dressed. Fitted black sweatpants, a black vest and a loose deep maroon sweatshirt over that. "Okay..." He nodded towards the stairs, "...a quick errand. We need a few things from the supermarket. Simple." He reached into the duffel bag still beside the bed and pulled out a set of keys, a wallet, and a thick metal chain. A plain deep pewter silver, adorned with a small pendant with two s's etched onto it. Dominic’s breath caught. Daveed stepped close again, his intimate presence settling Dominic. Without a word, he lifted the necklace. The cool metal touched the skin of Dominic’s torso. Daveed fastened the clasp securely at the back, the clink of chains echoing in the quiet room. It wasn't tight, hanging down into the valley's between his breasts, but its presence was undeniable, a constant cool pressure and weight, a brand. Daveed adjusted it slightly, his fingers brushing Dominic’s nape, sending a shiver through him. "There," Daveed said softly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The neck wear, the simple dress, Dominic’s bare legs and feet. "Perfect. Ready to serve."
Dominic’s heart hammered against his ribs. The supermarket. People. Neighbours. In this. With this around his neck. Panic fluttered, sharp and cold. He looked down at himself, then up at Daveed, his eyes wide with sudden fear. "Sir... people... they might see..."
Daveed’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes hardened just a fraction. "You won't be leaving the house in this outfit. Remember, your life must remain unchanged in it's normality. But the chain must stay on". Dominic's concern was hard to hide. "Yes," he stated, matter-of-fact. "Those that notice will see my property. My well-tended, obedient Slut running an errand with his Stud." He stepped forward again, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Is that a problem, Dominic?" The use of his full name was a whip crack. "Are you ashamed of what you are? Ashamed of belonging to me?"
Dominic froze. The fear was visceral, screaming at him to run, to hide, to rip the dress and necklace off. But beneath it, deeper, was that terrifying calm Daveed had praised. The sense of rightness. The memory of the profound stillness after his release, the feeling of wholeness Daveed’s dominance had somehow unlocked. The shame of hiding for so long warred with the terrifying liberation of being seen. Truly seen. By Daveed. By anyone. His hand rose unconsciously, fingertips brushing the metal resting on his torso. It felt less like a shackle and more like… an anchor. A claim. His. Daveed’s Slut.
He met Daveed’s unwavering gaze. The panic didn't vanish, but it shrank, compressed under the weight of that anchoring metal and the absolute certainty in Daveed’s eyes. His voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, but clear. Steady. "No, Sir." He swallowed, the chain moving slightly with the motion. "No problem." He straightened his shoulders, the simple shift dress settling against his body. "Are you sure you want this, Dominic? You don't feel like i've coerced you into this, clouded your mind, laid some kind of trap?" Daveed seemed genuinely concerned. The words tumbled from Dominic's mouth quickly. "No, sir. Absolutely not. I'm sorry. I'm overwhelmed. It's making it difficult to find the words. I am happy. Thrilled. Ecstatic. I've never felt so clear about anything. I promise you, sir". Daveed's returning smile was warm, his eyes glistening. He didn't respond. Just continued to smile.
"What do you need to buy exactly, Sir?" Daveed’s predatory smile returned, wider this time, flashing white teeth. He reached out and ruffled Dominic’s damp hair, a gesture startlingly affectionate. "Just some supplies, you'll see. It'll be fun," he murmured, the purr of his voice warming Dominic’s core. "Quickly now, change into your usual clothes" Dominic's face fell, "Yes, it will feel weird, but you know, and I know, what lies underneath. Oh, but here's an undershirt you might find helpful." He grinned at Dominic who rushed to the closet and quickly grabbed some baggy khaki's and an oversized polo, whilst carefully laying the new garment in an empty drawer. Dominic tentatively looked at the shirt, clearly too small for his curvaceous figure and glanced up at Daveed. "Try it," he said confidently. As Dominic pulled the material over his head, it gave. not quite stretching or expanding, just covering, overlaying his full figure. It didn't squeeze or tighten, but Dominic felt somewhat contained by it. Held. He pulled on the oversized pants and t-shirt. Glancing at himself in the mirror, the usual tell-tale signs of flesh and blubber were gone. He wasn't suddenly, traditionally, fit or toned, but he seemed more solid. More together. "Still awful", Daveed commented. "But it won't be for long. We can't have your Slut running wild and free all of the time, but we will definitely improve your normie fashion choices before long. Let's go." He turned and opened the front door, sunlight flooding the hallway. Dominic took a deep breath, the scent of cut grass and summer air mixing with the musky citrus of Daveed’s nearness, and followed his Stud out into the world.