Meeting Master Jay: Chapter 1
A Week Before My Scheduled Arrival
My phone blinged. It was a message from Master Jay.
“How much did you say was the cost of your hotel, fag?” he asked, referring to the two nights I booked to stay in a hotel after the one night he agreed to host me at his place. I just didn’t want to bother with traveling all that way and then leaving after 24 hours. Though this made my trip even more expensive.
“$300, Sir. Why?” I asked.
“Can you still cancel it?” he ignored my question.
“Umm, yes Sir, but it would be trickier to change my flight. Please don’t cancel at the last minute, Sir,” I pleaded.
“Relax, boi,” he replied. “I was just thinking again about your request to come serve me for more than one night.”
“Oh,” I said, waiting for him to elaborate. That was true. I had told him it was not easy to pay for that trip, as he required a $500 fee and the flight was a few hundred dollars more. Not to mention that although it was prudent to keep the first meeting of a Master and a slave short and gradually increase, one night might be a little too short to really get to know each other. Also, if you think about diminishing returns (to borrow from accounting) if I already have a large sunk cost for the visit, I’d like to have that cost spread over more days. That’s why even when he refused, I chose to book a couple of days in a hotel, because while that added a cost, it made the daily cost lower. But that’s enough with the technical details.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You can come stay with me for two more nights, but I get the $300.”
“Sir, please. I could use that money,” I replied. I was excited for the possibility to serve for a longer duration under his roof, but if I’m paying for it, that would mean I’d feel less obligated toward him. I know that’s not how it works for everyone, but that’s how it works in my complicated relationship with money. I mean, up until two months ago, the entire concept of findom was off limits for me.
“I could put that money to better use, don’t you think, boi?” he replied.
“Yes Sir,” I said, reluctantly.
“That’s better,” he said. “So go ahead and cancel the hotel and you can PayPal me the money.”
“Sir?” I asked. I’d always sent him via his Throne, as “HSFaggot on Twitter”.
“It’s time we stop wasting money on Throne fees,” he said.
“But then all my sends will have my name on them,” I said.
“True. We’ve been talking for a long time though. Don’t you think I should know your name by now? Especially if you’re going to be under my roof. I’m actually going to want to see your passport, just like they do at a hotel, for my own security.”
“Oh, ok, Sir,” I replied. That was actually something I’ve also done with my Owner, the first time I visited him. I do appreciate guys taking safety precautions. “Just don’t expose me, Sir,” I pleaded.
“I won’t, boi, you can trust me on that,” he replied.
“Thank you, Sir,” I said.
“Good boi. You like giving me more control though, don’t you? Having your privacy in my hands?” he teased.
“Oh, Sir,” I didn’t answer.
“Don’t you?!” he repeated.
“Yes Sir,” I reluctantly acknowledged. “But Sir, can the payment wait till I arrive?” It now comes to $800 and I didn’t elaborate, not wanting to offend him, but the truth was that I was still scared that he’d evaporate just like some scammers I’ve encountered.
“Why?” he asked.
“Umm, it’s a lot of money, Sir,” I said.
“Fine,” he said and I was grateful that he didn’t probe further. “You can pay me once you arrive at my place. $850,” he said.
“Sir!” I exclaimed.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Umm, OK,” I reluctantly acknowledged.
“What’s that, boi?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” I reaffirmed.
“That’s better,” he replied. “While we’re talking, why don’t you remind me what your limits are? I want to make sure I don’t forget anything.”
“Yes Sir,” I answered. “I don’t do bareback, no pain or violence, no drugs or any smoking, no women, and no scat or other dirty stuff, except piss. I can swallow piss or cum if it pleases you, Sir.”
“That’s good,” Master Jay said. “Of course it does. Serving as a urinal will be an important part of your duties. Just too bad you don’t do bareback.”
“I know, Sir, I’m sorry,” I said, expressing my honest regret.
House Slave Fag