Take My Hand

40 From disposable fun

Sasha was working over at his parents house this weekend, and I had stayed at the apartment instead of joining him. It wasn't anything I could help with, and I really needed to catch up on the vacuuming.

Especially with the time I was spending on the floor these days. At first I didn't really like it, but I guess it was because it had been a punishment. When it was just because Sasha wanted to play, that felt different.

I liked being praised, and it wasn't like he was asking to hurt me or anything. I wasn't a masochist like that. I didn't mind letting go of control and letting him boss me around now. It was kind of... nice.

If you had asked me if I'd ever have done this kind of thing in the past, I would have laughed at you and given a hard 'no.' But considering all the ways I acted out and tried to find myself in the past, I guess this was better?

Sasha gave me a sense of accomplishment when I got it right. He gave me consequences when I was being stupid. He gave me direction and a desire to improve myself. But more than all that, he gave me his love and devotion.

I was his boyfriend first. He talked to me, laughed with me, and we had times that were perfectly normal. This whole 'Sir and boy' stuff was just fun stuff that spiced up the already amazing relationship that we were building.

It wasn't like he didn't have his own responsibilities that he did himself. I wasn't thrown all the work, just the work I could do. He was still in charge of most meals, paying the bills and managing our financial lives, working longer hours and taking care of me.

He didn't expect much, or at least no more than he expected of himself. Plus, he actually said thank you and told me what a good boy I was when I did everything I was supposed to. Every. Single. Time.

In fact, I couldn't wait for him to get home and see what a great job I had done while he was gone. He hadn't come home last night though, and I was a little worried when I got ready this morning that he wasn't coming at all.

I had tried texting his phone, but there was no reply. I didn't have his parents number saved in my cell phone, and I didn't dare to go in his office without permission. It was a rule after all.

It probably wasn't an emergency. As I watched the time tick down to when I had to leave for work, I scrambled to make a decision. I waited for the last possible moment, then figured I had to go now or risk being late for work.

My new co-worker was not as nice as Mary and Susan had been. He was actually a bit of dickhead. He took one look at me and proceeded to treat me like dirt. He was bossy, snide, and constantly putting me down.

Good thing I only had to work with him for two hours, or I might have reported him, asked to switch shifts again, or quit. As it was, I just ignored the treatment and did my job until he left.

I locked up the apartment and sent a text to Sasha to tell him that I couldn't wait any longer and was leaving for work. It was quiet at that time of the morning and the halls, elevator, and front lobby was deserted.

I walked down the sidewalk with just my backpack hanging off my back with my lunch in it, wearing my usual work attire. There was nobody around for the first two thirds of the trip, and it was only as I was crossing an intersection near the club strip that I finally heard voices.

A couple of guys were walking on the other side of the road, being loud and pushing each other as the shouts echoed off the buildings around us. I glanced over and then just kept my head down to keep walking.

"Hey! Hey you!" I heard someone shout, but I ignored it and kept walking. I heard footsteps running across the road between cars, jaywalking to my side of the street with a break in the light traffic.