You've gotta pay for it.

Nothing in life is free. If you want something you have to pay for it.

There are things that cost money, those are the easy ones. But the things that cost you more than money, where money can't help? 

Those are the ones that are truly worth it, if you're willing to pay the price.

I'm sitting at my desk in between meetings. I just closed a big contract that will bring us a lot of work and a lot of money for the second half of the year, and now I'm checking how I will rearrange personnel and resources to make sure we can comply with it. 

Yeah, there's no other way: We're gonna have to hire an extra two people for this. It's the only way we can deliver on time. If you want something, you have to pay the price, after all.

I've just sent an e-mail to my assistant telling him to start searching for the right people when my phone buzzes. 

The special buzz.

The buzz reserved to that special someone who comes before anything else in my life. 

"Can you pass by my house at 1:00, today?"

He knows that he would just have to order and I would drop everything to run to his side, but he always gives me an out, he always asks. And it's good, because right now I have some extra things to take care of courtesy of the new contract I just landed, and suddenly I hate with a passion that contract that just has me set until the end of the year. 

There are priorities, and then there are priorities.

I check back my schedule. If I push forward this meeting and call this other guy to tell him to meet tomorrow instead and I can shuffle some things and get out at 1:30, which means... 

"Sorry, the earliest I can make it is at 2:00 and I'd have to leave at 3:30"

He knows I would always say yes and that's why he always asks. In just a few minutes I receive the response.

"Ok."

And that's it.

The rest of the morning just passes swiftly now that I have someone to look forward to. I quickly go through the queue of pending tasks, getting them done with ruthless efficiency. 

At 1:30 I almost race out of my office into the sunny street to catch a cab. The air feels different, everything is different when I'm going to see him.

Even if he doesn't live that far away the traffic at this time of the day isn't the best, and now I'm feeling impatient, thinking about what's about to happen.

Still, I stop five minutes to withdraw some cash for him. I already sent him what he demands from me for this month, this is not because I have to but because I want to.

He lives in the tenth floor or a nice building in a very exclusive part of the city. I have an access card that I only use when he allows me to. I check my reflection on the elevator: I want to look perfect for him.

I know that my tributes are not enough to pay for this apartment so he must have other men besides me, but that doesn't matter at all. He doesn't owe me exclusivity. He doesn't owe me anything at all, whatever I get from him is more than enough and I should be thankful.

I have a key. 

He's waiting for me sitting on his living room wearing only a robe. His hair is damp and he has no shoes on,and he smiles when he watches me enter in my expensive suit.

He's shorter than me and has light brown skin but green eyes, and he's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

I wish I could just show him to people when they ask me why I divorced my wife, why I don't date anymore, why... he's why. Just a chance to have a moment with him is better and more important than what any other relationship could give me. If only they could see him they would leave their spouses too. But I know they wouldn't understand even then, because they're not me.

They will never understand the beauty of this moment with him smiling and looking at me like I'm a toy he's about to use for his personal pleasure. Which right now is exactly what I am. 

Just being in his presence fills me with vertigo and turns my world upside down. When he looks at me I don't even know who I am, all I know is I'm in his presence and he's filling my mind with his eyes and... and I'm lost. 

I can barely talk or think, and I bring out the cash in my pocket and show it to him in silence. I'm trying to find the words but I can't. I forgot language. I forgot myself. All I know is him and his eyes. 

He takes the money from my hands and sets it aside without looking at it. When you want something you have to pay for it and I want him, but he's not the kind of thing you can buy with money. He demands more.

He demands everything of me, and he has it simply by looking at my eyes.

How can I deny anything to him when he looks at me like that? Knowing that he wants me makes me feel complete, like I found my home for the first time in my life, like suddenly my existence has meaning and purpose, and my purpose is serving him and making him happy, just for a chance to see him looking at me like that. 

That's what I want, and that's the price I have to pay for it. 

He's undoing my tie and opening my shirt and nothing in the world can compare to the pride and joy I feel when his eyes light up with lust looking at my body. When I'm in his house my only purpose is to serve him and to be used by him, and knowing how much he wants me fills me with happiness, like I just found my place in the world.. 

And then he touches me, just his fingertips drawing a line down my chest, and it's like I'm a candle and his touch is a flame. I I moan and pant and I don't know if I'm saying his name or the word Master because right now they're both the same for me. 

He takes my belt off and pulls down my pants and my briefs, directing me to stand in front of him. I didn't even notice how hard I am until the second he grabs my cock and strokes it gently, and I can't stand anymore and fall on my knees in front of him.

Now he's opening his robe. There are no words for what the sight of his nude body makes me feel: I feel lust and love and adoration, but also something like fear, knowing how small I am compared to him, how much power he has over me, how much I am under his control.

He pulls my head back and makes me look at him and says a final word that seals my fate. I sink down on my own awareness of him, on my knowledge of his perfection and beauty, on my lust for every single part of him. I'm not even a person anymore, I'm just an object of desire that lives for him and through him. 

I suck his cock. 

A thousand words couldn't describe how that makes me feel, how much my mouth belongs around it, how the sensitive head responds to my tongue and my throat, how having it gag me and make me lose air is the most amazing thing I've ever experience, how when I'm sucking him it feels like the universe created me with the only purpose of sucking him, how every single drop of precum in my tongue just tokes the fire of my lust... I could use a thousand words to describe it and still fail, but I can perfectly describe it in four words: I suck his cock.

We move from the entrance to the living room and he sits in the sofa and makes me kneel in front him, right where I belong, and offers himself to my attentions, and I suck him. 

His legs are raising slowly and I don't know if he's telling me what he wants or I just know it, but I know: He wants me to fuck him. 

My heart is about to burst with joy and pride, while I push his legs back and begin entering him slowly. I feel like I'm the king of the universe, like it's just him and me alone in the world and nothing else matters, because there are three billion men in the world and from all of them he chose me to fuck him.

His ass is warm and tight around my cock and I can feel how it clamps around it, how he reacts to every single one of my movements. I know how to thrust to touch that special spot inside him that makes him squirm and twitch with pleasure, and when I pick a faster pace he completely loses control.

He's holding onto my shoulders, panting and moaning and looking at me while I fuck his brains out, and no matter how amazing fucking him feels in my body, the true pleasure is in my mind, in the knowledge that I'm giving him what he wants, and what he wants is all of me and my service.

His body is shaking, right on the edge of orgasm, and then he pulls me down to kiss him and when he throws his head back and I softly bite his neck he goes right over the edge, shaking as he cums on his stomach and that's enough to make me cum as well, but I don't even notice my orgasm, all I can feel is his.

He kisses me again, looking deep into my eyes as we slowly recover our breath.

It would be a shame if his seed went to waste. If I may get a reward for what I just did, any reward as if I deserved him for the privilege of submitting to him, it would be this: being allowed to lick him clean, up to that last beautiful drop he squeezes from the tip of his cock for me.

Not that I deserve any reward: being allowed to serve him is what I crave the most, and every time I come and he takes control of me again I'm reminded why. And that is the price I pay for him being my Master: me being his slave.

His glance goes to the clock: It's 3:10. 

This whole ordeal, this eternity of pleasure for me under his control, lasted just a bit over an hour.

I don't want to go, but I have to. 

I take a quick rinse on his guest shower, getting ready to go out and face the world. He watches me get dressed, slowly covering the naked slave I am at heart with the clothes and the cover of a successful executive who just closed one of the biggest contracts of his life. 

He's just there, sitting on the sofa in his robe and watching me get dressed with a small, satisfied smile, an even if I'm not the only man in his life right now I feel like I am, because I'm the one he chose to serve him today.

I don't want to go, but there are things waiting for me. Nothing as important as what just happened here, but still things I have to do.

I say goodbye with a final kiss and I go out to the street, a man of power wearing a suit, and no one out there will ever know or notice what I just did, they won't know that I just had seventy minutes as a slave, getting used by the most wonderful man in the word in exactly the way he makes me want to. 

They don't know that I paid for his control with my submission, I paid for his pleasure with my service, I paid for his orgasm with making it happen. Because I want him, and when you want something you've gotta pay for it.

And nothing in life is free.

Specially not me.