Brand is finally being called to The Service, but nothing is smooth about this assignment. His Master turns out to be Mark Lewis, an actor who has made his fame playing a superhero. Brand’s short-lived excitement is tempered by the knowledge that another Servant has been delivered to the same house. Mark Lewis shares a house with Mark Axelsen, another actor famous for playing a caped crusader. The other Servant doesn’t work out, but Brand seizes the opportunity to try to satisfy both Masters. When tragedy strikes, Brand wonders if his Masters are more like their superhero characters or the stereotype of the spoiled actor. Or does he even need them to rescue him at all?
When I was delivered to my Master, it was in a very large cage. The cage had a floor and ceiling of smooth bamboo with steel bars which had been polished to a bright shine and a smooth consistency. The door was closed and locked with a padlock, and I had a bottle of water, strapped to the back of the cage. It was made for me, so it was the perfect height for me. Not to be able to stand in, but exactly high enough for me to squat in.
The Service Squat, as it was called, was the preferred stance for a Servant to be in. And since today was my first day as a Servant, I knew I was supposed to greet my Master in this stance. It basically involved squatting on the balls of your feet, legs spread wide apart, arms resting on your thighs, and your head bowed. I didn’t particularly care for this position, but after attending The Service Academy, I was comfortable enough with it to be able to drop down into it at any time.
The Service Academy, or SA, was a training ground, of sorts, for marked guys who wanted to become Servants. It was a school that taught you most of what a regular school did but also classes on how to please your Master, both in sexual ways and in everyday life. Pleasing your Master was the number one goal of your Service contract.
The Service contract was a legal document which marked guys could enter into where they agreed to be a NOMAR’s, or non-marked guy’s, Servant for the period of one year that could be extended to two or more. In exchange for this one year of Service, the Master would pay the Servant one million dollars for each year of Service. Marked guys were labeled as such, because on their thirteenth birthday, a blue line would appear on their face, from the ear to the chin along the jaw line. Sometimes the mark was light and sometimes it was dark.
Marked guys were different from NOMARs in more than just appearance. They were always and exclusively sexually attracted to men. NOMARs were sexually attracted to women, which our world did not contain. Marked men were rare so, therefore, it was a huge boon to have a marked guy in your Service.
I had heard of a lot of marked guys who were ashamed of their marks and grew beards and long hair in order to cover the mark. Not me, though. I wore that mark proudly and dared anyone to say anything to me about it. I signed up to go to the SA as early as possible and to be a Servant at the first chance I had.
Service was a great deal, at least in my head. I would never make that kind of money in my lifetime any other legal way, and I was ready for the adventure. The thrill of Service was that adventure, for me. I wanted to leave home, make something of myself, and to be dominated sexually. It was all a marked guy like me could ever want.
As far as NOMARs were concerned, they were given the chance to have a Servant, if they were wealthy, or they could go to a Service Station if they weren’t. Service Stations were establishments, run by the government, that allowed any man to purchase time in which they could get off. There was absolutely no contact between the guys working in The Service Station and the customer except for the obvious mouth or ass, due to a complex wall of anonymity that was required.
The relationship between the Master and his Servant was the only legal way you could fuck another person, and see and feel them while you did it. Of course, if you were marked and you wanted to have sex with another marked man, then, that was perfectly legal.
This was the moment I had been thinking about since my thirteenth birthday. Almost every decision I have made since then was made with this moment in mind. Sitting in my cage, it was already the most exciting experience of my life and I hadn’t even met my Master yet. I felt like I might explode if I had to wait much longer.
I had already been sitting in this cage for what felt like most of the day since I had been delivered. Total, I had been in this cage for the better part of two days since I left my home in South Carolina. I had traveled by plane and truck and forklift so far. This morning, I had been placed inside my Master’s home and I had been eagerly awaiting his arrival ever since.
I was terrified of the thought of him. He couldn’t really hurt me, physically, but who he was as a person would have a huge impact on my happiness for the next year. I prayed I would be physically attracted to him. Many times at the SA I pictured who my Master would be. I always made two lists—one was like my dream master and the other whom I would probably get.
Knowing my luck, he would be old and unattractive but have a lot of money and be a kind person. Or he might be good-looking with a cruel side or be mean as a snake. There were so many possibilities that it was staggering to consider and would drive me crazy if I let it. I would have my answer soon, I hoped.
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