Bare Chest and a death in the family

I worked outside during the afternoon.  We were planting olive trees in the heat of the sun.  My poor muscles are not used to labor like digging holes and filling them again.  We were all sweating.  I was the first to peal off my shirt.  It was the first day that was warm enough so far this spring. Dan commented on the red welts that showed above my belt.  "Your Master is really hard on you"!
"He can be, but he's never hurt me".  There is a difference between pain and hurt in my mind that I've defined in several ways.  Pain is what I consent to. Hurt is done without consent like domestic abuse or rape.

We finished planting all that we could. I went to my studio to work until Master called for me to come get ready to go out for dinner. The five of us piled into my truck and drove into town to have dinner together.  We would normally dine at home but there was nothing thawed and no fresh produce in the kitchen. We went to an Italian Restaurant.  I generally hate Italian restaurants because nothing seems as good as the food I had when in Italy. Americans made thick pasty sauces and over dress the pasta. I opted for a Filet Mignon, with Master's permission. I have beef when he orders it, otherwise it's not on my menu. I eat what he allows me to eat.  It's another element of control over me.

We bumped into our local attorney when we walked from the truck to the restaurant.
"Hi guys!  I just tried calling you Trace".  I reached for my phone and realized I left it in the studio.  I asked "What's up"?

"I'm guessing you already got the news from someone in the family but I want to make sure you know. I got a call from the Sheriff in your home town that your brother"...

"He's my half brother".
"It was Paul, the one we have the restraining order against. He died last night. A bunch of Mexicans from his work crew went to his house with baseball bats last night and beat him to death".

I felt has if a thousand pounds fell off my shoulders. The fucker is a hateful religious maniac and bigot.  He's been told by the company that he works for to stop preaching and calling people nigger and sweat backs. He said he would kill me for being gay because god hates gays. His threats were the primary reasons that Master hired an armed body guard.

I ordered a bottle of Champaign to celebrate after a great dinner together.

Master handcuffed me as we walked back toward the truck. This whole little town is going to know all about us if the secret isn't already out. He wrapped his arm over my shoulder and around my neck and held me aggressively yet tenderly.  He whispered "you're mine" in my ear as he put pressure on my neck".

"Thank you Master".