Chapter synopsis: While Chase loses his property and his dignity, our narrator takes possession of his new condo and his new boy.
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The movers arrived bright and early. I had just awoken from a pleasant sleep, dreaming all night of how I could punish Chase next. I felt refreshed and empowered once more. It was that same sense of certainty that gave me so much strength: I knew that everything Chase had done in his "old life" was wrong and I knew it was up to me to punish him every day for the rest of his "new life."
The man in charge of the moving crew gave me a firm handshake and introduced himself as "Garcia." He was a handsome, middle-aged man. Something nice to wake up to: an olive complexion, a strong jawline accentuated by a tight beard, and overall rugged good-looks. Not my usual type, but a looker nonetheless.
I explained to him that only a few pieces of furniture needed to be taken over as I was assuming possession of an already-furnished property. I had done some preliminary packing last night and there were a few boxes ready to go. I motioned to my many book shelves and instructed the movers to box up their contents and bring them all over today.
I gave Garcia my cell number and the address of the condo before heading off, adding that, if I wasn't there when they arrived, Chase would be "happy" to let them in.
I set out then on what I had planned for the morning. First of all, I swung by the office of Vivian Warren's NGO for beaten and battered women. I hadn't planned on staying long, but I got held up. The receptionist — a sweet, young, pretty girl — seemed clueless as to what she should do with the forms I handed her. She studied them a couple times and looked back up at me.
"Sorry... This is, uh, my first day here."
That's when I noticed the name-tag she was wearing: "Juanita."
I guess I wasn't the only one who was setting things right. The maid that Chase had raped, impregnated, and forced to have an abortion. The maid that he had tricked his soon-to-be ex-wife into firing. This was her, gainfully employed by Mrs. Warren once more.
No doubt Vivian Warren would be taking good care of Juanita from now on. Though she was only a receptionist now, I suspected that Vivian would perhaps be groom Juanita for advancement. She certainly deserved it.
I explained that Mrs. Warren would be expecting these forms and that she would know what to do with them. These were the papers that guaranteed Chase would get nothing from her in the divorce.
"Oh!" Juanita's eyes lit up and she gave me a beatific smile. "Ms. Warren's divorce papers?! I will give her these right away!" She dashed off down the hall toward what must be Vivian's office.
They were, of course, more than just divorce papers. Included in the dossier I gave Juanita were also the documents that would leave Chase utterly bankrupt and give me full possession of the condo he had so unjustly tried to steal away from the Warren family. I hoped Vivian's lawyers would make quick work of the contracts and agreements Chase had "so graciously" signed and that, maybe even by the end of the day, he would officially lose all legal claim to even a single penny.
My business with Vivian Warren was finished now that she had the forms that would finalize everything we'd arranged. I didn't wait for Juanita to come back, certain that nothing would stop her from getting the divorce forms to Vivian. Maybe one day, when the right moment presents itself, I'll introduce Juanita to the "new" Chase. She should know that his punishment was far more than a simple divorce from his wife; it was a divorce from his worldly possessions, his freedom, and his very manhood itself.
I headed out right after Juanita ran off. I had a lot to do.
My next stop was the Salvation Army, where I dropped off four big bags full of Chase's old clothes. After Chase had thrown his old wardrobe off the balcony last night, I collected the pieces I could still find down on the street. In retrospect, it was thoughtless of me not to consider that there were so many people in need who deserved Chase's wardrobe so much more than he did. I hoped that someone else would find the articles of clothing I'd missed and get some use out of them.
After Salvation Army, I drove over to The Market de Sade, a local sex shop specializing in BDSM paraphernalia.
I recognized the man behind the counter, surprised to see that he was still working here. Perhaps he was the owner? When Bryan was still around, we had been frequent and loyal customers here. But this was the first time I'd visited in years.
Either way, I was sure that I had seen this guy in here many times before. He was hard to forget. His physical form alone was noteworthy, as I'd guess he was at least 6'4" with a solid linebacker build. But what made him especially memorable were things like the massive septum piercing between his nostrils, the shaved noggin, the myriad of tattoos on his neck, and the full sleeve of tattoos covering both arms. To top this off, he was wearing a tight leather vest and matching leather pants. Though I couldn't see him being much over 30, he nonetheless called the term "leather daddy" to mind. This was someone who definitely "lived the lifestyle."
He gave me a nod and asked if I needed any help in a gruff but friendly voice. I thanked him, but said I already knew what I was looking for.
I took my time perusing their selection, imagining for a while how Chase would look with one of those massive, comically-oversized dildos fully inserted up his ass.
Alas, I had to be reasonable for now. Given that Chase had been a totally straight, alpha-type, domineering man in his old life, I had to assume even the women he'd had sex with hadn't played with his ass at all. He likely has a totally virgin asshole. I opted to start him off with something small. As I've said, I'm a patient man. I can wait.
Still, I'd never seen anyone take one of those absurdly-oversized sex toys in person and I made up my mind right then and there that eventually I'd see one fully disappear into Chase's ass, come hell or high water.
I browsed a bit more, choosing a few more items along the way. I took a handful of things to the register. The "young leather daddy" behind the counter gave me a coy smile while looking them over.
"Are these a gift for someone special?" he playfully inquired.
This struck me as an intrusive question and I gave him only a curt response: "Yes."
"Good, good... You know, I'm glad to see you've found yourself a new boy," he added as he scanned some barcodes.
I gave him an quizzical look, unsure how he would know this. I got no sense of telepathic powers from him. If he wasn't reading my mind, what in particular tipped him off to my having a "new boy"?
He continued, "You probably don't know this, but a lot of the staff around here were envious of the relationship you had with your last boy. Most of them could only dream of having that kind of relationship that balanced serious kink and mutual love so well. It was sad for all of us when we heard through the grapevine you two had broken up... You guys had a lot of 'fans' in the community."
I guess it made sense, what he concluded. Bryan and I had expressed our kinkiness quite publicly. He never called me anything other than "Sir" or "Master," no matter where we were or who was around. And I suppose when we visited The Market de Sade, we weren't exactly discreet. In fact, I'd usually make my comments as loudly as possible, embarrassing and humiliating Bryan by making sure everyone knew he'd be taking huge new dildos up his ass and hard new paddles on his ass as soon we left the store.
If this guy knew from that that I was a Dom, and here I was purchasing paddles, dildos, and butt plugs once more, then it must mean I have a "new boy."
But I only gave him a wane smile. His comment brought up mixed feelings in me. Yes, this was a "new boy," but I regretted that this wasn't love. I might never again have "that kind of relationship that balanced serious kink and mutual love so well."
I chose not to dwell on it and changed the subject. There were a few items I needed that they didn't have on the shelves, so I placed an order for them. I also made requests to have a few of my purchases personalized, a service they could provide on-site. I gathered up the rest of my things, left my number, and thanked my "fan" for his help.
My errands for the morning now finished, I drove over to "my new condo." It was about 12:15 and I hadn't gotten a call yet from the movers. Although this could mean that they just weren't there yet, I was hopeful that they were on schedule. If they were, this meant that Chase had let them in and was no doubt suffering through the first of many humiliations he would experience in front of other men.
Things were looking good when I parked out front. The moving van was outside the building. I passed by the movers on their way out as I was heading in. They told me quickly what they'd already taken up and what was still in the van. But that was it.
"Strange," I thought to myself. I was sure they would have said something about the "exhibitionist fag" who must have let them in upstairs.
When I entered the condo, I understood why they hadn't commented on Chase's state of undress.
I was pissed when I saw what Chase had done to avoid his humiliation. It was, I admit, some quick-thinking on his part. Chase's hair was wet and he had a towel wrapped around his waist. No doubt he'd told the movers he'd just gotten out of the shower when they arrived. Although maybe they found it a little strange that he was still only wearing a towel 20 minutes after getting out of the shower, they hadn't yet questioned it.
Chase blanched when he saw me. He could tell immediately I wasn't pleased. If he had hoped I was going to go easier on him today, he was very, very wrong.
"LOSE. THE. TOWEL." My voice boomed in his mind.
While his face contorted into a pleading and shameful expression, his arms moved swiftly on their own and the towel fell to the floor in an instant.
Now dressed as he deserved to be, I was pleasantly reminded once more of the ultimate punishment I would make him endure for the rest of his days. Written in big, bold letters, the bright red jockstrap announced: "CHASTE."
"Bedroom. Now."
The words entered Chase's mind and he reluctantly followed me in. I shut the door behind us. As much as I wanted the movers to see Chase in his humiliating state of undress as soon as possible, some discretion was required. I didn't want the whole world knowing about my mind control abilities and didn't want to waste any of my limited energy on erasing the movers' memories of anything I might do or say.
"I'm disappointed in you, Chase."
He looked down at his feet, holding his head in shame, not even trying to meet my gaze.
