Mercy (ManxBoy)

53: ℓιттℓє ωнιρ

I pull you up, I grab your hair,

I give you hope.

S Y K E S:

Since we've been back, Zaire has slipped into his submission even more so. He'd always been submissive, don't get me wrong... but now, he's just happy. He doesn't frown or stare off into space thinking. No, he is just happy. 

I've been reading his journal, and honestly, it's just gotten so much more positively. I loved how happy he is about being here with me. 

He hasn't been able to go back to work yet. They got a permanent teacher to replace him because of how many missed days he had. I hated to see that happen because I'd seen him get upset about it. However, they did tell him that he'd have a job next year because the teacher was only staying for the one year. 

I was glad to hear that because I didn't want him to be upset. I knew that he'd be okay without the job. He was the one man I'd never mind providing for. He was so great, so sweet and kind. 

I was sitting here, watching Zaire clean--he loves to do that. He keeps my house cleaner than it's ever been--and it's not like I've kept it a mess. I have never let my house stay a mess. I had to have more control than that. I couldn't stand the chaos around me. 

Zaire was bent over at the waist, I knew he did it because I loved to watch his sexy little ass as he cleaned in nothing. Seeing him naked, cleaning my house hit me where I'd never been hit before. I suddenly was aware--this isn't just us fucking anymore, this isn't just a M/s relationship anymore.

This was me, owning him entirely. He wasn't just a temporary slave. He belonged to me from now, until I decided to let him go. And I had a feeling I'd never decide to let him go. He's too perfect. He's everything I need. He gives me purpose. That's something huge to me because it's been a long time since I felt that way. 

This was him, giving up his forever. He had no option to leave unless I gave him one. That's how our contract was laid out. Slater had designed the contract himself, and the only way he could leave me was if I requested it. Once the contract is torn, we're free. 

But I'd never be free of Zaire, even if that happened.

Zaire wasn't merely a person anymore. He was a part of me. He was a part of everything I owned. He had somehow managed to sew himself into every nook and cranny in my home. It started with my bedroom--before too long his scent never left the pillow anymore. It traveled to the playroom, where I very subtly incorporated his little touches. The sheets were no longer silver, but red. I changed them back and forth between black and red depending on which ones we'd had sex on that day.  Then it went to my bathroom--his adorable yet childish hello kitty tooth brush and his favorite kind of toothpaste was on my counter. He put pump soap on the lip of the sink, and his effeminate shower gel was in the tub neatly with his loofa.  Slowly it went all the way through my house, and he'd sewn himself into the very workings of my apartment. 

His touches were everywhere--the flowers in the entrance, the magazines placed for decoration on the table, the doilies here and there. And then there was my favorite.

Since being here, Zaire had taken pictures with us together. I knew he'd been taking them on his phone, I just didn't know why. I mean, sure, there's always preserving a memory and that shit, but really. Zaire wasn't at-risk of losing his memory any time soon. He'd taken all of the pictures and had them developed. He then bought frames for all fifty. 

Yes, fifty. I had no idea that the number of pictures had gotten that high, but now I understood fully why. 

When Zaire had come, I had one wall in the living room with nothing on it but a credenza with some nick knacks on it decoratively because I ran out of shit to decorate with. But, I no longer had that wall free.