Submissive Part 3 & 4 (manxman)

Prologue

Prologue

Callum

(Model Gus Drake as my idea of how Callum Looks)

Five years ago...

"Callum, Callum, boy where are you? Get your head outta the clouds and gather them dirty dishes. They ain't gonna wash themselves ya know." Francois', the head chef's aggravated hollering shook me out of my stupor and I quickly scurried out of the busy kitchen and into the restaurant's elegant dining area to gently gather the delicate chinaware from the brunch rush to take back and load them into the massive industrial dishwashers. I kept my head down as I moved silently from table to table gathering the used dishes and carefully loaded them into the gray bin I as holding against my hip. I made sure that no leftover food splattered against my pristine white uniform.

On any given day when Francois spoke to his customers, you could here the smooth French accent just pouring into every word coming out of his mouth. Otherwise, he sounded like he just stepped out of the lower east end of the docks by the Hudson River. Go figure, it was far for me saying anything about it. I heaved the heavy bin closer to my slender chest and carried my burden into the kitchen. I sidestepped the other chefs and servers like it was a choreographed dance in order to get to the dishwasher without dropping the thousand of dollars worth of fine Chinaware and polished stainless steel utensils.

I scraped the leftover food into the garbage and shook my head at how the wealthy wasted food, some of the elaborate confections were barely touched. Some nights when I'm so hungry that my stomach felt like it was clawing against my spine I would have gladly garbage dived for some of the delicacies I was currently throwing out. Sometimes when Francois was feeling generous at the end of the week, he'd let me pack some food up for the weekends I wasn't scheduled to work. He was cool like that, sometimes. I learned not to take it for granted and I don't expect to happen again until it does.

After loading the dishwasher, I went back into the dining area to remove soiled table linens and replace them with clean crisp fresh ones. I reset the tables making sure that the tea lights we merrily glowing away in water filled decorative crystal centerpieces set in the middle of each table. Once that was done, I quietly made my way back into the kitchen trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I slinked around the organized chaos as the chefs prepared for the evening influx of clients. It was Friday, so usually the reservations were filled to capacity just the way I liked it. Keeping busy kept me from thinking about the misery that is my life.

It's been six months since my Master passed away and I still feel the pain and desolation of his lost as fresh as if it was the night the doctor in the emergency room informed me that they couldn't save him. His heart had given out and there had been nothing else that they could have possibly done to prevent his death. Less than forty-eight hours later my Master's children had descended with the police in tow and kicked me out of our home. My Master and I had spent six wonderful years together, he's promised he'd take care of me forever. He said he was going to change some things in his will for make sure I would be taken care of, but I'd always scolded him, telling him that he shouldn't talk like that. That he had plenty years left, but I was wrong, and he never had gotten around to making those changes.

In all actuality, I didn't care about the money, the house, or the cars. I would trade it all in a heartbeat if I just had some more time with my loving Sir. I couldn't help the smile that curved my lips when I recalled the day we met. I had finally saved up enough money to actually set foot into the swanky members only BDSM club, Indulgence. I'd been there as a prospective member and guest a dozen times. I gathered the application forms and medical documents weeks before I was able to make the yearly membership fee payment. I'd filled everything out and worked day and night bussing tables, and delivering packages all over town. It wasn't easy but I'd managed since I was living with three other guys in a three bedroom apartment and we split the rent and utilities.

My Master had walked in that very night and I'd laid eyes on him and that was it for me. I'd watched every single presentation he'd performed and burned with envious jealousy at each and every pretty little sub he did a scene with. I silently raged with the luckier ones he spent time with in the private rooms in the back of the establishment. I'd watched him for months before devoting myself to learning to be the best submissive possible. Then when I felt I was ready, I'd spent a small fortune at the day spa a lot of the subs used to make themselves irresistible.

My long dark waves had been cut and styled to perfection. I was waxed from head to toe, my skin moisturized and as supple and smooth as a newborns. I'd dressed myself in the tightest leather boy shorts I could find. Outlined my bright green eyes with Kohl liner and added a sheen of lip gloss to my pouty pink lips and made my move. With my heart in my throat, I'd brazenly sashayed my way into the main sitting area and promptly presented myself at my Master's. feet. Kneeling in perfect display for his viewing pleasure.

The table of Doms where my Master had been sitting had gone quiet. I had peeked from underneath my lashes at my Master to gauge his reaction to my forwardness. It wasn't until one of the other Doms guffawed and slapped my Master on the back teasing him about having a pretty little admirer that I had finally relaxed and preened just a little bit more. Needless to say I's accomplished my goal of catching the most delectable Dominant's eye and it was just him and I from that day forth. That was until he passed away and left me all alone all over again.

This time around, I didn't have a house full of roommates to split expenses with. I didn't have a meager savings to fall back on. I'd been totally dependent on my Master foolishly thinking that he was always going to be there for me. He'd wanted me at his side all day everyday, so I'd quit my jobs and made him my life. The only exception was his insistence that I pursued my love of cooking and baking, hence the years of culinary school he'd sent me to.

Now he's gone, and I have no life. I'm struggling financially, physically, and emotionally. Just making the simplest of decisions gave me hives, that is, if I didn't pass out from sheer nerves first and foremost. I've barely been getting by the past few months and I keep myself busy by working two jobs just not to think about any of it. This is my life now, and my Dom is never coming back. All I have is myself and I have to make the best with what I do have or I at least hope I can.