My Summer

by Declan Rhodes

  “Can I hear both?"

  Sir pulled me close. "Of course, you can. Well, the official reason according to my friend is that they have found new evidence, and they want to know what I know about it."

  “And you don't think that's true?"

  "I can't imagine what they could have found. There is no body. Rita wasn't abducted. She went into hiding. She stayed with a friend of my family on his private island off Key West for three years. During that time she traveled out of state for surgery, but it's not like there was some fight and she left behind shreds of clothing or she dropped a popcorn trail." He rubbed my forearm.

  “And the real reason?"

  “A bestselling author has returned to the Keys, and he has deep pockets. They are filled with millions of dollars in royalties. I wouldn't be surprised to find Rita's dad at his computer every week checking the bestseller charts while he counts on his fingers the money he thinks he can extort from me. The bastard." Sir squeezed my right ass cheek, and I jumped.

  I smiled and tried to look serious again. "I'm sorry, Sir."

  He shook his head. "I'm sorry you have to be part of this, too. We've got so many better things to do. Like it or not, though, ridiculous situations like this are often part of the life of a celebrity. I guess it might be good that you learn that lesson now before it knocks you upside the head when your first novel hits the top 10 of the bestseller chart. Anything you did in the past is fair game, and very few of us have a spotless record."

  Sir logged out of his email and said, "I can deal with this later. I think I'm up for a swim right now. Are you up for another trip to Key West soon?”

  The first one was great. I was eager to go again. "Sure, I would love that. Of course, it’s not my decision.”

  He squeezed my ass cheek again. "You're learning. I think we might need to pick up some neoprene while we’re there, and maybe we can drop in on Rita again. I also have someone else you need to meet. He would be interested in seeing you, too."

  "That sounds fun, Sir." I glanced over my shoulder to see his hand still gripping me from behind. "And if you really want that, all you have to do is take it. You know that it’s yours.”

  10

  Hank and Sam

  I wore my collar for the second trip to Key West. I already forgot that it was around my neck other than when I needed to take it off for swimming or a shower. Two other ways I remembered its presence was either with a sharp tug on the ring from Sir's index finger or a leash snapped on the ring to gain more firm control over my movement.

  The weather was beautiful for our second trip to Key West as it seemed to be 90% of the time on the islands. Short thunderstorms or brief torrential downpours of rain occurred often, but they left the rest of the day clear and warm. I didn’t like the rain. I hadn’t liked it since childhood, and I did my best to duck indoors until it was over.

  We met Rita for lunch at a cute open-air restaurant. When we arrived, she was already seated at a table along the sidewalk wearing a light, loose-fitting pastel-colored dress and her oversized sunglasses. Rita stood as we approached and threw her arms around me in a warm embrace. "It looks like Florida is treating you well, Joel. That tan is starting to deepen. After another month, you’ll look like a native.“

  She pulled back and traced a deep purple fingernail along my leather collar. "Hmm, it looks like someone has snatched a little more control.”

  I blushed while Rita gently shook her head. "Yes, I officially belong to Sir for the summer now."

  Rita turned her head. "He calls you Sir now? That’s so formal, and it’s only for the summer? Will you really let this fine young man get away?”

  Sir brushed off the leading question. "And Rita, how are you? You look positively fetching in that dress."

  "I wish you could find me a straight man who agreed with your assessment.” She tugged on the skirt of the dress. "It doesn't do me much good to impress boys like the two of you."

  Sir pulled out a chair. "Let's all have a seat. I could use a drink, and I have something urgent to discuss."

  We sat at the table with Rita between us. She reached over to me and squeezed my upper arm. "Seriously, if I haven’t said it before, I’m so glad you're here. Tom was turning into a grumpy old hermit. He was a rich, grumpy old hermit, but he needs a man like you to show him there is more to life than the words he types on a page."

  A server approached our table, and Sir ordered a round of mojitos. He glanced at each of us for assurance that we approved. We nodded in unison. Sir wrinkled his brow. "Rita, I think the time may have arrived for the nuclear option."

  Her expression turned serious. I didn’t know what Sir was talking about. It sounded like a bold step, but with such a theatrical term, I was prepared for the possibility of a sarcastic suggestion, too. Rita asked, “Is he really stuck on it? Damn, maybe I should tell everyone everything and get it over with. That might save a lot of trouble.“

  "And condemn yourself to a life of hell? Never, Rita. I can’t let you do that. Aren't you happy with your life now? You’re the belle of Key West.“

  She grinned. “And Tom likes to exaggerate, bless his heart. Of course I’m happy with my life. I would be a whole lot happier with a big hunk of man candy in my bed first thing in the morning, but a girl like me can't complain about the life I lead." She fidgeted with her fingernails and turned to look first at me and then back at Sir. "Does this mean it’s time for Hank to get involved?”

  Sir nodded gravely. "You know as well as I, Rita. Hank is the nuclear option."

  The server returned with our drinks. The name "Hank" never came up in conversations back at Rusty Door Key, but Sir did mention someone he wanted me to meet. I tried to follow the threads of the discussion. I was sure the nuclear option had something to do with Rita's family pursuing Sir, but I was in the dark about most of the details. I started to open my mouth to ask direct questions and then remembered the collar around my neck. I raised the mojito and sipped it instead. I was confident that they would share all of the information that I needed to know.

  Rita reached toward me and placed her hand over mine. I stared down at the deep purple nails free from any chips of missing polish. "You will like Hank. He's an authentic Key West character." She turned toward Sir. "Tom, he still has Sam, too. I think they are going on seven years or so now. They walk down Duval Street after dark on occasion, but otherwise, I never see them downtown. I wouldn’t be surprised if people think Hank’s a vampire since they never see him in the daylight. I know better, though. He's floating in that pool at his house all day long."

  “Is it okay to ask a question?"

  Sir was staring off into the distance. When he heard my voice, he turned his head to face me. "Of course. Go ahead and ask. I’ll tell you if I can’t answer yet.“

  "What's the nuclear option? Surely you aren't going to blow something up."

  Sir laughed, and I laughed softly along with him. "It's just a nickname for the emergency procedures Rita and I came up with long ago in case we were pushed to protect her identity. Hank knows where all the bodies are buried around here, literally, and he's going to be very helpful. I don’t often call on him for assistance, but when I do, he always comes through.“

  Rita snickered. "Daddy won't know what hit him when he has to tangle with Hank."

  For lunch, I ordered a sandwich while Rita and Sir both ordered seafood salads. While we ate, she told stories about her life and talked about her work in the most recent years. When younger, she made money appearing onstage in local nightclubs and occasionally, as she put it, doing some "less than admirable" jobs. In more recent years as the decade of her 20s came to an end, she began working as a personal tour guide for wealthy clients visiting Key West. She spoke sternly to us about the gigs. "Now don't you go assuming it's the work of a paid slut, because I am no such thing. I show people around who want to see the more 'colorful' side of our beautiful island and are willing to pay for the privilege. Believe me. I know colorful."

&
nbsp; Sir complimented her. "Rita is one of the most ethical people I know, and she can successfully navigate her way through the seamier side of society filled with liars, cheats, and sleazy operators. She does that and still comes out clean."

  Rita leaned over and put a hand on Sir's cheek. "Aww hun, sometimes those are the most entertaining people to know. Mark my words, though, life always balances in the end. Truthfully, it does."

  We finished up lunch and Rita hugged me again before we left. She gestured toward Sir while speaking to me. "You take good care of this one. You might be wearing the collar, but he's the one that needs the quality TLC. He's been taking care of everybody else for years now. It's high time that he had someone like you to take care of him."

  Sir said, "Ah, Rita does ramble well." They hugged, and he kissed her on the cheek. "I'll let you know the plan after we talk to Hank. A few more weeks might pass before the plan kicks into action."

  The view from the street to Hank's house was nearly obscured by tropical vegetation of various shapes and sizes. It was a simple, elegant home in a clean, upscale neighborhood of Key West. The houses on the street backed up to a canal lined with luxurious yachts. We followed a winding sidewalk to the front door and rang the doorbell. After the second ring, we heard a muffled shout. "Around back! Just come around."

  We passed through a gate, and I heard the soft sound of Jimmy Buffett's "Come Monday" drifting through the air from behind the house. Sir leaned over toward me. “Hank is a Jimmy Buffett fanatic. He's a true blue Parrothead."

  As we turned the corner, I saw a large man lying back on an air mattress in a reclining position floating in a kidney-bean-shaped swimming pool. What hair remained on his head was silvery-gray, and one hand held a drink with a tiny pink umbrella. The other hand rested on his ample belly. He lifted his sunglasses and looked toward the corner of the house as we approached.

  As soon as he recognized Sir, his face lit up. "Tom! It’s so good to see you! It has been a long time, young man.“ The man turned his head for a moment to face away from us, and I realized he was talking to someone else. It was a younger man who swam to the side of the pool and climbed the ladder. I watched as water streamed from his slim body. He was much younger than the man on the air mattress, and he was attractive. My first guess was that he was close to Sir’s age. His platinum blonde hair was cut asymmetrically and swept to the right side. He walked around the pool to meet us on the opposite side.

  Sir offered his hand for a shake and asked, “Are you still taking care of this old beast, Sam?"

  Sam gripped his hand firmly. “Seven years now, Sir Tom. Can I get either of you anything? A drink? A snack?"

  "No, we came directly from lunch with Rita. I think we're fine. Do you leave Hank marooned out there in the pool?”

  Sam laughed. "He knows how to swim if he needs to reach the shore.”

  I suppose that I wasn’t aware of it at first because I was used to my own, but my mouth dropped open when I noticed that Sam wore a collar around his neck, too. In his case, it was a chain with a padlock. The chain links were small and gold. They complimented his blonde hair. Sir introduced us. "Joel, this is Sam. He belongs to Hank, the man over there who still hasn't seen fit to get up and greet us properly."

  Hank called, "I heard that! Why don't the two of you strip down and jump in the pool? It’s hot out, and the water is perfect today."

  Sir asked, "Naked? You would like that, wouldn't you? You pervy bastard.“

  Hank gripped his package and stared at Sir. "Like I'd see things I haven't seen countless times before."

  Sir began to pull his T-Shirt off over his head. “Are you okay with it, Joel?"

  I smiled at Sam before I responded. "Whatever you suggest."

  As Sir stood shirtless with his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his shorts, he said, "Go ahead then. Strip down and jump in the water. I’ll slap Hank’s hands away if he gets grabby. I don’t want to stress the old man too much, but we do need to talk. Let's hope he doesn't suffer a heart attack when he gets excited about two naked men in his pool.”

  There was something about seeing Sir naked in semi-public that made him even more desirable than when he was nude at home. I puffed out my chest with pride knowing that he was, as he often said, mine, as I was his. I had a hard-on that I couldn't help when I stripped out of my shorts.

  Fortunately, Sam didn't stick around to stare at us while we took off our clothes. He walked back over to the ladder to climb into the pool and swim the few short strokes over to his Master’s air mattress.

  Sir walked to the side of the pool and called to Hank, "Watch out for the splash!" He dove in, and his body sliced neatly into the water. He caused very little splash and came up smiling at me. "Come on in, Joel! Hank’s right about the water.”

  I looked down at my throbbing cock and stepped to the side of the pool as Hank called, "He's a handsome one! You must have baited the hook well.“ Hank's sunglasses rested on his forehead, and I felt his eyes perusing my naked body. I was happy to slip into the warm water of the pool and swim into Sir's arms.

  Hank called out again in a gruff voice, "If I can interrupt the lovebirds, I think you said you had a reason for stopping by other than socializing. Did you have something to discuss?“

  I swam to Sir’s side and slightly behind as we approached Hank. We treaded water around the air mattress along with Sam. Sir formally introduced me. "Joel, this is Hank Effington. In a better world, Hank would be made king. As it is, he helps bring down other wannabe despots."

  Hank smiled, and I watched his belly shake while he chuckled. "Thank you for the kind words. We have fought some good battles together in the past, haven't we? Is there a new problem now? This imperfect world never fails to generate something new.“

  I watched as Sam gazed at Hank. His eyes bubbled over with both love and respect for his Master. I thought to myself seven years. It was impossible to imagine what seven years wearing Sir's collar would feel like.

  "It's an old problem rearing its ugly head again, Hank, and several years back, you told me that if it ever became a problem again, I should call on you." Sir reached out one hand to grip the air mattress and continued to paddle with his free hand. “Do you remember Arthur Elliot? His son Richard escaped and emerged from the cocoon as the butterfly named Rita.”

  Hank laughed causing his hairy belly to ripple once again. “Is that bastard back at it? He is kind of pathetic, no? I haven't seen Rita for..." Hank rolled his head back in contemplation for a moment. "I guess it's been at least five years. Sam hadn't been with me long when she last stopped by. She is a lovely girl."

  "Yes, and I think Arthur wants my money, and probably my reputation, too.”

  Hank reached out for Sir's shoulder. "Tom, don't worry. He's a low-rent bastard, and he knows it. He has more skeletons in his closet than most. Mark my words. There are real skeletons. You know, the last time we thought we had to deal with him, I gathered some artifacts. You don’t need to worry. We can take care of this quickly and efficiently.”

  Hank gestured toward the house. "Sam, why don't you show Joel around the house and give him a look at the guest room. I'm sure he would enjoy seeing that. Tom, maybe someday you'll want to make use of it with this fine boy. Meanwhile, we’ll hash out plans to deal with this little problem."

  I wanted to stay and hear the details, but I was also very curious about the house and the opportunity to talk to Sam one-on-one. I asked, "Is that okay, Sir?"

  "Absolutely. Go have fun with Sam, and I'll see you in let's say about thirty minutes or so."

  "It's always a little risky leaving boys like this without supervision, but I think we'll be okay. They are a beautiful pair.” Hank winked at Sam and pulled his sunglasses back down.

  The interior of the house was beautiful. It was an open design, and it was decorated with decades of art collected by Hank. Some of the pieces bore a distinctly homoerotic edge, but the majority were paintings and small sculptures that looked like they we
re worthy of placement in a museum. Sam said, ”Master loves art, and he has one of the best collections in Key West.” He proudly puffed his slim chest out.

  I was self-conscious about my nakedness in a stranger's house, but I tried not to show it. I asked, “Have you really worn his collar for seven years?"

  Sam beamed and fingered the chain around his neck. "Seven years, two months and 12 days."

  "Wow. You know the exact number of days. Has it been a good experience? Do you regret anything?“

  “No, I don’t have any regrets. This is where I belong. He rescued me from a mess of my own making. I don't want to be anywhere else in the world. I take care of my Master, and he takes good care of me."

  Sam pulled open the door to a room. I asked, “Is this the guest room?” Before Sam could answer, I stared in awe and almost stumbled over my own feet. I’d only seen rooms like it in photos online. There was a padded table intended for bondage in the center of the room suspended from the ceiling. In one corner stood a padded St. Andrew’s cross. One entire wall was covered by a pegboard holding all kinds of equipment that made my eyes pop.

  Sam smiled. “It’s the guest room.”

  "This is incredible. Damn, it makes me horny."

  Sam looked at my stiff cock and smirked. "Yeah, I understand. I have so many exciting memories of playing in here. There are intense ones, too. Master calls it the guest room because sometimes we do play with other guys. Most of the time, though, it's just the playroom that I enjoy with Master."

  I walked up to the pegboard. "Is it okay if I touch some of this?"

  "Oh, go right ahead. If you want to know what something is, feel free to ask."

  I ran my fingers over the tails of floggers in all sizes from a few inches long to over three feet. There were paddles made of both leather and wood. I lifted a wood one off the pegboard and swung it through the air listening to the "whoosh" sound. "I bet that one gives a nice sting!"

  Sam rubbed his ass and grinned. "Yeah, believe me, Master knows how to swing a paddle."