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The machine was sleek and new like everything in my house, except for those things that were antique and old. It was an intentional contradiction I found privately funny.
Easing into the ergonomic chair, I booted the miracle of modern technology to life, the screen lighting up like a window into a future world. I thought back to even fifteen years ago. How if anyone had seen the ‘cell phones’ available in the current day, they would completely flip their shit.
I imagined explaining to them how I carry around a glowing glass rectangle in my pocket that can do more than the desktop computers of the time. Not least of which included pulling an internet connection down out of the air. It had seemed like impossible future-tech at a particular point in history.
I tap on the Zoom app and dial up Xavier Harris and Jude Ashton. I don’t have many people I would count as friends. Though these two would definitely qualify. New money billionaires themselves, they know what the transition can be like. They also liked going to the club, the three of us sharing many similar interests.
“Barrett. You’re looking as pasty as ever I’ve ever seen you,” Xavier teased.
“It’s called palace pallor, you vulgar plebeian,” I teased back, doing my best Alex DeLarge impression.
“The lock-down was only announced yesterday,” Jude pointed out.
“I like to get a head start,” I shrugged.
“Just ask the bartender,” Xavier quipped.
The ripple of laughter was natural and good-natured. We’d been like this since we were kids growing up in the same tenement in Brooklyn. It was still amazing to think of where we were now compared to where we had started out.
The old money bastards were never really going to accept us, but we didn’t give a shit about their approval. We knew what we had achieved and that was enough.
“Pity about the club,” Jude said, suddenly getting serious.
“Indeed,” Xavier concurred.
“Just what I was thinking,” I told them. “Maybe we don’t have to give up on our hobbies during these dark times though.”
“What are you thinking?” Xavier asked, sounding interested.
“Not sure yet, but there has to be a way to still have playtime while we’re not able to get to Club Lush.”
“Like having our own live-in pets?” Jude asked.
“What was that?” Xavier and I asked in unison.
“Pets that live with their masters. Also known as a 24/7 relationship. It’s usually done between people in relationships who already live together but it can be less formal too. Love doesn’t need to come into it. I know how much of a commitment-phobe you are, Josh.”
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I sneered sarcastically.
“It might take some convincing but I’m sure we can find some women on the network who would be willing to do it,” Jude continued.
“For a price?” I asked.
“That would probably make things easier.” Jude shrugged.
“But it would be more than we pay in club memberships,” Xavier observed.
“Who cares?” I said, scoffing at materialistic concerns when I knew that tech had made all of us billionaires. “Goodness knows we all have enough room in our big ass mansions. We could each turn a room into a dedicated playroom. Have the club experience at home until the lock-down is lifted. We’ll have all the pussy we could possibly want.”
It was a brilliant idea and we all jumped at it, even though it was easier said than done. It was true that we certainly had the space and everything we could want was online. Though it was something else entirely to actually bring the Club Lush experience to our own respective houses.
First and foremost, what I needed was a playmate. That might be easier said than done given the current restrictions, though I’d always been pretty good at overcoming challenges.
I’d never had a pet in my house before. I was used to getting all my thrills at the club. This allowed for a sense of detachment. I never got romantically involved with my pets and the club helped to keep up the anonymity. Most of the time, I didn’t even know their names and that was the way I preferred it.
If I was going to go along with the idea of having one stay with me, a contract would be needed, just so she would know the deal. I may have been both a dom and adverse to commitment, but I still took informed consent very seriously.
There was going to be no attachments beyond a two-week quarantine period at my house. A contract would be drawn up, agreed upon, signed and notarized.
Once the business part was over, we could get down to the fun.
Chapter One - Joshua
It was getting frustrating. Even though everyone was supposed to be at home, it was difficult to actually get a hold of any of them. The phone-tag was rising to near absurdist levels.
