House Husband (Patreon)

This was a story commission for one of the top tier patrons - hope you all enjoy!

Luke Benward loved his job. He’d be a fool not to – he was a well-paid actor whose name was getting some traction in Hollywood, after all – but there were definitely days when he was glad to have a little time off to spend on himself. The life of an actor wasn’t all as glamorous as people thought it was, it could be damn tiring and that was why he was glad when mornings like that very morning came along and he was able to remain under the sheets of his comfortable bed for as long as he well liked. Sure, he’d have to hit the gym later to get a two-hour workout in but aside from that the rest of his day was completely empty and he was going to relish that.

The alarm clock beside his bed had remained blissfully silent all morning and the young actor smiled as he saw the seconds tick closer to ten o’clock. He let out a content sigh, his broad chest rising and falling with the heavy exhale. His peace was short-lived though as a buzzing on the bedside table interrupted the sweet silence. Fishing his cell phone from the table, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed as he saw that he had received a text from an unknown number with a rather bold statement: You better not still be in bed.

Logic told Luke to completely ignore the message, but his Mama had taught him to never be rude and as such, he typed out a quick message in response: Who is this??? The sharp tone of the original message suggested it could be any number of individuals: his high-strung agent, his overbearing mother or even one of his needier friends. He didn’t know if any of them had new numbers, but he would have at least expected them to properly re-introduce themselves to him if that was the case.

I’m taking that as a yes, came the response, followed shortly after by another: Haven’t you got things to be doing today?

Luke waited for a minute longer to see if there was going to be any response to his question but when none came, he figured there was no harm in responding to their own question. Only the gym, he typed out, Seriously tho, who is this?? His curiosity was piqued and even though his brain continued to insist that responding was a bad idea, he couldn’t quite stop himself from waiting for their response.

After another minute, their reply finally arrived: The gym?

When there was no follow up, Luke responded with his own sarcastic clarification: Yeah, that place with all the heavy weights and stuff.

I know what a gym is, returned the anonymous messenger, Just surprised you’ve got plans to go. You haven’t been since college, right?

Luke scoffed as he read through the message. Clearly however was texting him didn’t know him all that well at all. Barely a day went by when he wasn’t in the gym, even if it was only for a little bit of cardio, and to think he hadn’t been since graduating college was crazy. Abs and arms like his didn’t come without hard work and some serious grind in the gym!

Strangely though, as he thought about it, Luke realized he couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d actually had a proper workout. He was certain that he’d been to the gym yesterday and yet as he tried to recall what he’d trained there, he kept drawing a blank. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what the interior of his local gym looked like!

I go all the time, he typed out defiantly before hitting the send button. Even as the message notification changed from ‘Sent’ to ‘Read’ though, Luke knew it was a lie. The proof of his general laziness when it came to fitness was visible as he looked down at himself: there were no abs to be seen, instead he had a soft tummy that suggested that he didn’t keep to all that strict a diet either. His arms were also thinner than he’d anticipated them being and there was far less definition in his biceps and triceps as he tensed the muscles in the limbs.

Pretty sure you graduated like twenty years ago, the reply stated. Luke chuckled to himself, amused at just how wrong his mystery texter had gotten it. There was no way he had graduated college twenty years ago, that would put him in his mid-thirties! Yet, as he inspected the forest of hair across his torso, he could see a couple of grey hairs mixed in with the brown. 

Grimacing, he itched at the stubble on his chin and silently thanked whatever higher power existed that he didn’t have any reason to take off his shirt on set any time soon. He didn’t want any more ‘old man’ jokes being thrown his way by his younger castmates but they seemed unlikely to stop any time soon, grey hairs or not.

I don’t mind though, his mystery texter continued, I think you look good with the extra weight. 

Luke’s cheeks flushed as he thought about all the extra weight he had gained in the years since he’d been a college athlete. He wasn’t exactly fat by any means, but he could definitely be placed into the ‘dadbod’ category without any disagreement. His stomach tended to poke out over his waistbands and his cheeks were a little puffier than they had once been. He felt a little embarrassed by how badly he’d let himself go but as long as someone liked them, he supposed it wasn’t all terrible.

Besides, it’s not like you need to be super ripped to do your job, the next message stated.

This one didn’t quite sit right with Luke though. Compared to the rest of his castmates he looked noticeably plain and out of shape. As such, he couldn’t help but reply with his first message in several minutes: Actors are supposed to be super ripped though. I’m the fat one on set. ☹

LOL. It had barely been twenty seconds since he had sent his message when the short, blunt reply arrived. In what world are you an actor? Luke barely had time to think about it before the next message arrived to clarify his foggy thoughts: I was referring to your job at home.

What job? Luke nervously typed out.

A moment later: Cooking. Cleaning. Serving.

A shiver ran down Luke’s spine and yet he knew he couldn’t deny it. Most of his days were spent cooking meals, cleaning the home and doing whatever was asked of him. The person giving him those orders was still clouded in shadows in his mind though which ultimately brought Luke back to his initial question, which he gingerly typed out: Who is this?

It’s your husband, silly! came the response. Now you better get your fat lazy ass out of bed and start cleaning the house. I want that place spotless by the time I get home and dinner better be on the table. Do all that and maybe I’ll give you a reward tonight. Fail and you can expect one of your usual punishments!

Luke shuddered about the punishments that his husband commonly put him through if he failed to meet the other’s expectations. He could expect his cock to be caged or to be spanked until he was begging for mercy, neither of which were enticing options, even if he found a sick perverse pleasure in them. His husband loved dominating him and truthfully Luke found it so easy and natural to submit to the other man, like it was what he was born to do. In fact it was all he wanted to do too.

Pulling the sheets back and stepping out of the bed he shared with his husband every night, Luke glanced around at the messy room and knew he had quite the task ahead of him. He was going to have to get started as soon as possible but he had enough sense not to leave his husband waiting on a response and quickly typed out his usual reply to any demand made of him by the love of his life: Yes, sir!