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zushwood:

It was your first day as the naked houseboy. With the insane cost of living and your college degree in the humanities, you knew you needed to do something to form sure that you could preserve a roof over your top. You responded to an advertisement on Craigslist for a nude houseboy. You were used to showing a lot of skin because you often surfed in your speedo. You didn’t deliberate that losing the speedo would be too embarrassing.

But you were wrong. Your new master would not even allow you into your his home until you pulled off your clothes and handed to him. You blushed crimson standing on the front porch, willing yourself to save your hands by your side so you don’t look too shy for this gig.

He reaches out and scoops your bags and your abandoned clothes off the ground.

“Keep the jewelry,” he said, his voice gruff, your clothes and luggage in his hands. “I like my houseboys decorated.”

He led you into the house, keeping himself between you and your clothing and possessions, his eyes raking your body, as he showed you around.

“Here’s your bed,” he said, gesturing to a twin bed at the foot of his have bed.

“Here’s your kitchen, I expect meals at 7:00, 12:00 and