The uncle had been hooked on that profile for months, on his photos and videos. He couldn't stop reading that profile that announced itself as Master Cash and had made it very clear that it didn't accept any slave who didn't leave their tribute. He had contacted him twice to beg him to accept him, that he had no money, but that he was at his disposal, without limits, without rules, for whatever he wanted. He couldn't lower himself any further, but despite being ignored, he couldn't get those photos out of his head.

It had been almost a year since his last message, but he continued to review his profile almost daily, waiting for new photos or videos, which arrived in dribs and drabs. But each new material was like manna for his lustful mind.

However, on a Tuesday, just like any other, not even the 13th, he received a message from his idolized but inaccessible fantasy. It was HIM, the object of his desire, who was writing to him. Like a bundle of nerves, he read the proposal. He would have accepted anything just to be able to meet him, and this plan was no exception. The proposal was risky and reckless, but he couldn't say no. He replied that of course, he would be there on Friday at the indicated place and time, and as he indicated, and that if he wanted anything more, he was at his feet ("Hopefully!" he thought).

On Friday at work, he couldn't concentrate, he was very, very nervous. After eating (what little he could), he showered thoroughly, got dressed, told his friends that he was going to spend the weekend away with people from work on a "spiritual retreat" plan, and left home with plenty of time to spare. He arrived at the chalet where he had been summoned with some time to spare, which seemed eternal to him.

At the appointed hour, he rang the doorbell, expecting to see his desired Master. However, the door was opened by another guy, of the same type, but not HIM, who let him into the house through a carefully maintained and very private garden. Inside, he was made to stay in the entrance hall, waiting. Then HE arrived. With tight-fitting jeans and a very noticeable t-shirt, exuding an aura of security and control that was irresistible, and with the scent of recent sex that made the guy's legs tremble.

"You're the guy from Tuamo, aren't you, dog? Do you understand what you're here for?" the Master asked.

"Yes, Sir, I have it very clear, Sir."

"Perfect, dog, I'm glad, you're going to come in handy this weekend. Now you're going to go to that room, get undressed, put on what's on the bed, and take what's on the nightstand. Remember that there are cameras all over the house except here, so if you want to leave, you still can."

"Thank you, Sir."

The guy hesitated, but only for a few tenths of a second. He watched as that body, which was provoking him to do the craziest thing in his life, walked away, and he entered the room, which only had an unmade bed and a nights...