Usually, I avoid homeless people just because I know there's a chance that some are drug addicts and will only use my money for drugs, and I'd rather not have that. If I do end up in front of a homeless person I'll buy them food or give them an address to a hiring job I know will hire them.
Other than that, I don't bother. I have other things to do other than giving away money, like a club to run, people to pay and costumers to please. My club is a BDSM community favorite, I just relocated it to somewhere where people can come and enjoy instead of dealing with rude people when waiting in line.
When I bought the place the landowner had mentioned a homeless man who lived in the alley next to the building, he said that the man is really sweet and keeps to himself, that he's been there for years now. I shrugged him off, assuming the crowd of people and the music would scare him off. I never saw the man myself, but a few of my employees had seen a figure sleeping in the alley when they came in for work.
I knew he was the cause of the complaints. Customers demanding the man that lurks around in dirty clothes to be gone, complaining
that he's so sickly thin he makes some submissives uncomfortable and Doms want to force food in his throat. They said he was covered in dirt, that he smelled, and just generally creeps people out by being around, and in the alley. I got sick of it.
That said, I wasn't prepared to find what I did. I was expecting an old man, one I'd need to bribe to stay away from the alley. However, the young man I found there shocked me. He looked like he just turned nineteen, the shirt he wore was torn and the shorts he had shown off his leg bones from how thin he is.
His reaction to me wasn't expected either. It was all primal need to survive, he was severely threatened by my presence in his area, so much so he worked himself into a panic attack. The way he covered his ears hints he dislikes the sound of the music from the club, understandable, but he acts like he never socialized with people or even heard music before.
When he passed out from either exhaustion, starvation, both or just the unexpected stress on his mind and body, I genuinely felt bad. The boy is cute, I'm certain a good bath and a nice schedule of constant meals will make him more attractive. My dominant side flares, the need to help and take him in was too much. I couldn't just leave him out here now that I know he's in more need than I originally thought.
This leads to me now, with the boy on an old blanket on my couch in my apartment. I made sure to mute the tv and drive with the radio off as to not spook him, I'm sure he'll freak out and I'd rather not deal with that in a confined space.
I carefully sit next to him as I take in his features. He's pale surprisingly; skin almost see-through and covered in grease and dirt or mud, his black hair is tangled and greasy with dirt in clumps in it. Cheekbones glare out at me and his jaw is sharp mainly because I can only see bone and no fat.
I leave him be, and sit back to watch tv silently and let him sleep as long as he needs. I don't know how long he's slept on the dirty ground or if he ever even slept on a cushion, so its best I leave him be for now.
Its hours before the boy even moves a muscle, when he does it's to slide his small, boney hand on the blanket. He must feel something he dislikes because, as quickly as he can, he jumps up and falls off the couch. I sit up to make sure he's okay, but the movement just makes him freeze as he struggles to sit up on his knees.
Green eyes filled with fear staring at me, greasy hair falling in his dirty face, small body starting to shake again. He whimpers and shuffles away from me, glancing back around the lit-up apartment and the ceiling to floor windows that look out into the city. To which he seems to greatly dislike as he instantly jumps away from them and behind the couch.
Watching him I know I have my work cut out for me, he clearly only runs on pure instinct. It won't be easy to teach him otherwise, hell, he might never get over this if its all he knew. His brain might've just rewired to fit life on the street.
Standing I slowly round the couch and keep my distance from him, lowering myself to the floor like one would a frightened animal to be less of a threat. His wide green eyes are watery now, curling back into himself like back at the Alley.
"Shh, shh... you're okay. I won't hurt you, I promise. This a safe place, no else is here. Just you and me." Keeping my tone soothing and gentle, making sure my muscular build is as small as I can make it so he won't spook.
His eyes stare at me for minutes before turning to look back around, but he keeps me in his view and glancing back at me every second. Obviously, he doesn't believe that he's safe, probably because I invaded his home and ruined his small roof tarp. So, I change tactic.
"Are you hungry, little one? Can I make you something eat?" Immediately his eyes snap to me and I see the internal struggle to accept food from me, although his stomach growls before he can decide, I chuckle.
"Better listen to that, we don't want it to stay hungry, right? Let me make something, be right back, sweetie."
He watches as I stand and walk to the white, spotless kitchen, deciding that a simple sandwich would be good on his stomach. Too much his body would reject it, small goes a long way. Whipping it up takes five minutes, and I place a plate on the marble island table as I look over at the boy, who hasn't moved from his spot and watching me.
"You can't eat on the floor, come and sit up here. If you can keep this down, I'll get another for you. But I won't bring it over there, we eat on tables."
He hesitates, eyeing the hardwood floors with rugs on them like he doesn't understand how to walk on them, instead of trying to stand, he merely crawls, avoiding the fake fur rugs as he does. The dom side of me is overjoyed, He's basically a little pet I just adopted, and I adore I have to care for him.
The thought of knowing I took this boy from the street, and am now giving him a roof and food, is unbelievable. He may not appreciate it now, but in a few weeks when he feels better than he did, he'll relish it.
He stops once he's a few feet away from me, slowly standing with the help of the chair. He's short, only up to my chest, I assume around five foot five and to my six foot six, he's tiny.
As much as I wish to just lift him into the seat I know he won't enjoy being touched right now, instead, I watch as he slowly and cautiously climbs into the seat. Once He's arranged I slide the plate closer to him, and as soon as my hand is out of view, he assaults the sandwich. It's the fastest I ever saw someone eat, he didn't even have time to taste anything. It's honestly pretty sad.
Once he finishes he stares up at me, not unlike a puppy would, green eyes wide. I smirk at him but comply with the silent plead and fix up another light sandwich for him. When I place it on the plate, I quickly take it from in front of him, earning a confused whimper.
"When you eat this, eat slowly. It's dangerous eating without chewing, we don't want you choking. Can you slowly eat this for me?" He blinks adorably at me but ultimately nods.
I smile at him as return the sandwich, to which he picks up and bites off one mouthful to actually chew. He glances up at me a few times to make sure I won't take it, but I only smile and nod at him. He seems to relax the more he eats, by the time he finishes he isn't trembling; a start.
"Good job, thank you." I praise, a habit from having sub's around me, but he seems to like it as I catch his eyes light up for a second.
"Well, we got something in you, a good start. But now, I'd like to see if you can answer a question for me." I slowly lean on the island, far enough away to not touch him.
He only blinks then turns away to get preoccupied with the table or the sink, or the chair, even the kitchen towels. I snap my fingers to get his attention back on me, his head jerks up to me and he looks me over to find the cause of the noise, I snap again just to show him.
"I need you to focus on me, honey. Can you try and answer a question for me?" Waiting for him to nod takes a minute, but eventually, he agrees, although he looks apprehensive about it.
"Thank you. Can you tell me your name?" He merely blinks slowly at me, as if he didn't comprehend the question, so I clarify. "What can I call you?"
He brightens like an excited puppy, spine straightening and eyes wide, "Oh! Man at place said Zyon."
His voice is soft, cracking here and there like he just started puberty, but it's delicate and innocent, precious really. Man at place? I assume this man named him when he was younger.
"Zyon, I like it. How long have you been in that alley, Zyon?" It stings my heart how fast he brightens at the mention of the alley, eyes radiant and a very optimistic smile on his lips.
"I go home, now?" His tone is pure enthusiasm, and it pains me to have to upset him but I can't allow him to return to that alley.
Shaking my head, I see him deflate, "I can't let you stay in the alley, Zyon. It's dirty, it's close to winter and you need better shelter and food."
He whimpers, body starting to shiver again at the thought of leaving his safe heaven alley. I know he doesn't understand why I'm keeping him here, he just knows I came in and ruined his home then brought him here to an unknown area.
I need to find the man that named him, maybe he can tell me more about Zyon cause I know this boy isn't comprehensive enough to understand how long he's been on the street, or answer more questions.
"How about this, if you give me and this place a chance tonight, we'll go out and visit the man at that place." he instantly nods, eyes discouraged but at least he agreed.
Smiling I nod, "Thank you, sweetie. For now, you need a bath. Will you let me help you get clean?"
He's quick to shake his head no, not trusting me enough to allow me to touch him or see him naked. I expected it, though I wish he agreed, I'm concerned he won't wash as thoroughly as he should.
"Okay. Come on, I'll show you the bathroom and get some clean clothes for you." He carefully climbs down from the chair, only to drop straight to his knees when his feet touch the floor.
I don't mind him crawling as long as he wants to crawl, so I don't mention it and just walk slow enough for him to keep up with me as I lead him through the living room to the hall that goes to the bathroom, and my bedroom.
It soothes my dominant side that I can hear his crawling, knowing that he is depending on me to provide a good shelter, food and altogether a better life than he had, is an amazing feeling.
My bathroom is massive. The tub is basically a hot tub, and it's the size of a bed, and the shower is all glass and is the size of a walk-in closet. I debate on whether the shower or tub to introduce him to first, he obviously hasn't been clean in a while, and I don't doubt the shower would freak him out a bit. Tub it is.
Turning the water on I hear him startle at the sudden gush of water, "It's okay, honey. It's just the water, it won't hurt you."
As I reassure him I adjust the temperature, not wanting it too warm it burns him or too cold it freezes him. I place my hand under the stream to check every time I change the nobs, humming when it feels just perfect.
Straightening, and turning to Zyon I see wide eyes staring at me like he's never seen a person before, and is confused on what's happening. He's still on the floor sitting on his haunches, hands rubbing the tile idly.
"Now, I need you to pay special attention to my words, okay?" I lower myself to his level, hands in view on my knees. When he nods I continue, "There are two bottles in the corner, one is shampoo and the other is a body wash. I would like you to try to use both, shampoo for your hair and the body wash for your body. Keep both out of your eyes."
Zyon blinks multiple times at the instructions, seeming overwhelmed, and as wrong, as it is, I had hoped it would. If he realizes he can't possibly keep the bottles straight, clean himself, and keep the soap from his eyes; he'd allow me to help. I know he wouldn't be able to clean himself thoroughly, he has years worth of filth on him and he's so used to the dirt he wouldn't know where to wash.
Although he hesitantly nods, and I can grin at him. "Thank you. The water should be ready, undress and hop in. I'll go get some clothes."
Turning the water off, I smile at him again before walking out if the bathroom and into the connected bedroom, shutting the door but keeping it cracked to hear him. I only get to pull out an old long-sleeved black shirt, and some dark red briefs, before I hear a confused whimper from the bathroom.
Smirking to myself I go to check on him, knocking on the door before peaking in, seeing his sickly fragile body in the tub, now enveloped in bubbles. "You okay? Want help, sweetie?"
He looks down for a second then nods, looking back up when he hears me get closer. Sitting on the side of the tub I smile gently down at him as I grab a washcloth, I see the body wash and shampoo open floating in the water, the source of the bubbles. "It's okay to want help, actually I want you to ask me for help. I want to help you."
Zyon blinks up at me then turns his attention to my hands as I wet the rag and gather the soap on it. "May I touch you?"
He gulps, and it takes a few minutes, but I'm patient as I know he probably hasn't had a person touch him in years. I hum gently when he nods, staring at me through damp hair as I carefully but firmly start to wash his back. Holding a growl of outrage when I feel the nobs of his spine, and lines of ribs.
As I'm massaging the soap into his back and torso, his tense muscles slowly, but surely relax until he's limp into my hands. Hearing him sigh contently makes my heart swell.