Inhuman Behavior

by Faith Ryan

  Wren moves closer, his soft cock brushing my ass cheek as he angles it toward my hole. I watch him bite his lip; a glimpse of white teeth just visible to my eyes as he works himself inside me.

  After a few thrusts, he still isn’t hard. Pulling out, he sits back on his heels. Wren looks away from me and I try not to overreact. He glances at the closed door before bringing his eyes back to meet mine.

  “I’m sorry, Uri. I’m really tired. Maybe we can try again tomorrow.”

  I should have known better. He doesn’t want me. If he did, he would be hard and fucking me right now. Maybe I’ve made a mistake in letting him believe he’s a man on the same level as I am. But no matter how much I treat him as a man, he’s still a dog. Still mine. My pet. My pup. And he needs me to remind him who the master is here.

  “Off the bed.”

  “What?” Wren doesn’t move.

  “I said off the bed. Now!” I shout, and he scrambles across the mattress to stand beside the bed.

  “Uri, calm down. What’s wrong?”

  Wren holds his palms up at me, as if that can save him from being knocked back down to where he belongs. He’ll be lucky if I don’t put him back in the cage.

  “Do dogs stand on two legs? Is that one of your tricks?” I sneer out the words.

  Wren looks at me wide eyed as he lowers himself onto his hands and knees. I ignore the twinge in my chest that says I should be gentle, the small whisper that says perhaps Wren isn’t playing me for a fool. But I know better. He didn’t care one bit about me as anything other than how I could be a means of escape. He saw a chance to get closer to that goal and used me—or more accurately, let me use him. Too bad his cock didn’t get the memo to go along with the deceit.

  “Uri? What—”

  “Shut up! You had your chance to be a man and be treated as such. Thought you could fool me. Now I will regard you as the dog you are. If you want me to acknowledge you, it will be as a pet. I suggest you act accordingly.”

  I take angry, stomping steps to the door. Gripping the handle, I look back at Wren. His sad puppy eyes are aimed right at me. I almost give in until I remember it’s all an act.

  “Don’t look at me like that. You brought this on yourself. I have to get something. Sit! Stay.”

  Wren’s hands curl into fists against the floor, but he doesn’t move or say a word. Satisfied that he’ll obey, I go down the hall to my office. I put some packages in here after my last trip into town. I find what I’m looking for and pick it up, placing it under my arm to carry back down the hall.

  From the doorway, I snap my fingers to get Wren’s attention. “Come.”

  I turn away without waiting to see if he follows. He will. He’s a dog, and dogs always want to please their masters hoping to garner their affections, especially after they’ve been reprimanded.

  I toss the dog bed at the foot of mine and Amalie’s bed. When Wren enters, I point to it.

  “I don’t trust you to stay by yourself and I’m too exhausted to take you back down into the basement. Sleep.”

  He turns those puppy eyes to me again. I cross my arms over my chest and wait while he curls up on the pillowy mat. Once he’s settled, I close and lock the door, flip the light switch, then crawl into the bed, and pull Amalie close. I’ll mete out his punishment in the morning, when I have more strength to implement it the way I need to.

  Thirteen

  Wren

  I don’t know what happened in that bedroom to make Uri do such an abrupt one-eighty. One minute I felt wanted as a man, as a human being, when suddenly he stripped it all away by telling me I would be nothing but a dog to him.

  I lie on the dog bed he put down for me. I’m barely able to fit my entire body on top without curling up into an uncomfortable ball. Uri’s whispers drift over me in the dark room. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but the tone is loving and tender, a stark contrast to when he was speaking to me moments ago.

  Eventually Uri goes quiet and soft snores come from the direction of the bed. I stare off into the darkness, trying to make out shapes and objects but having no luck. His bedroom is eerily dark compared to the basement and the room he had set me up in.

  I don’t want to fall asleep. I’m afraid of what I might wake to, but I wasn’t lying when I told Uri I was tired. I stay awake as long as my body allows, but my sense of time is skewed by the dark and I don’t know if I’ve been down here for an hour or ten. It doesn’t matter anymore because once my eyes close, I’m too exhausted to open them again.

  When I wake sometime later the light overhead is on. I take the chance to look around the room before Uri discovers I'm awake. The room holds the same furniture pieces as the other bedroom: bed, dresser with a mirror, nightstand, and a chair that sits near a window covered with thick black curtains. But unlike the other bedroom and even the rest of the house from what I’ve seen, this room is covered with personal decor.

  Animals litter almost every inch of the room. Some are mounted on the walls, others attached to stands to keep them upright. There are several small animals like rats and guinea pigs and fewer of the larger animals; a bear, a bunny, even a cat all stare at me with their dead, beady eyes. Did Uri have them preserved after their deaths for Amalie?

  A noise jerks my attention to a door that’s partially open. I can see a sink and when I hear water hitting tiles, I reason that it must be a bathroom. A squeak is followed by a click and then the sound of water becomes muffled. Uri must be taking a shower.

  I stretch out my body and drag myself up to stand with a hold on the footboard. More animals greet my sight and a shiver of dread moves through me. There’s a small body beneath the comforter, I assume it’s Amalie.

  “Amalie?” I whisper-yell, hoping to avoid drawing Uri’s attention.

  She doesn’t answer so I make my way around the bed to shake her awake, almost certain that she is as much a captive here as I am. I reach out a hand, placing it on her shoulder, but something isn’t right. There’s no resistance to my touch and her body feels much lighter than I expected.

  “Amalie?”

  I grab hold of the comforter and pull it down so I can see her face. The same dead stare I saw in the animals decorating the room greets me. Her face is painted in such a way that I can see how beautiful she was in life and I know that Uri was the one to do this. The detail and time that would be required to do such a thing to a person screams of obsessive love. The kind I glimpsed in Uri earlier before things went downhill fast.

  Another squeak sounds from the bathroom and I hurry to cover Amalie back up and return to my spot on the floor. Uri emerges a few minutes later with a towel around his hips. He notices me staring and smiles, then makes his way over to stand in front of me.

  “Listen, Wren, I’m sorry about last night. I overreacted. Amalie helped me work through my anger and frustration, and I realized I was unfair to you. Obviously, you were just too tired to get hard. We’ll try again later. What do you say, pup?”

  I consider my options: confront him about the dead woman in his bed, risk his anger and possibly end up on his wall, or go along with his mood change as if last night never happened. Well, just the part where he went psycho on me, anyway. I rather enjoyed our night until then.

  I smile up at him, but I don’t move from my spot. Just because he’s treating me with kindness, doesn’t mean I’m not still a dog in his eyes. “Okay. I’d really like to try again later.”

  “That’s that then. Come here.”

  Uri gestures for me to stand, and then directs me to the bed. I stiffen when he places his hands on my shoulders and guides me to lie beside Amalie.

  He puts a finger to his lips, telling me to hush when I open my mouth to speak. He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “She’s a heavy sleeper. She’ll never know.”

  Because she’s fucking dead, you psychotic bastard! I scream in my mind.

  “She’ll never know what?” I ask just as quietly.

  “That I’m fucking you right bes
ide her. Get me nice and wet, we left the lube in the other room and I don’t feel like going to get it.”

  Uri stands up, drops his towel and presses his rock hard cock to my lips. I open my mouth and allow him to push inside. I run my tongue over the length of him as he slowly pumps his hips, drenching him with my saliva.

  “Good, pup.” Uri winks as he removes himself and climbs onto the bed and over me.

  I glance in Amalie’s direction, and Uri turns my head back to look at him. He positions his dick at my entrance, and I feel my hole greedily clench and unclench in anticipation.

  “Eyes on me, pup,” he tells me, leaning down and taking my mouth in a hard, quick kiss. “I’ll keep you from getting too loud.”

  He kisses me again, silencing my shout of pain and swallowing the moan of pleasure that follows on its heels. It hurts at first, but not so much that it overshadows the intense gratification that flows over me.

  Uri kisses and fucks me until I come, then he pulls out and moves up my body to straddle my face.

  “Open.”

  I suck his cock like it’s an ice pop and I’m overheated. I lick and swirl my tongue over him, relishing his taste as he shoots his release down my throat. He moves off me and helps me off the bed.

  “Come on, pup. Let’s leave Amalie to sleep and go get some breakfast.”

  I’m ashamed to admit it in the afterglow, but I’d forgotten about her. I’d somehow forgotten the dead girl was in the bed as her husband—probably murderer—fucked my ass, then my mouth.

  “Hey, don’t worry. I told you, Amalie’s a heavy sleeper. It's almost like she’s dead to the world. She’ll never know what we did unless you tell her.”

  Uri holds his hand out for me to take and leads me from the room. I let him guide me to the kitchen and sit in the offered chair. He goes about starting the coffee, then pulls out a skillet.

  “Oh, I just remembered! I got something for you.”

  He rushes out of the room. There’s a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy his gift, but I try to tell myself that no matter what he gives me, I need to remember he’s not a good man. At least the body of his dead wife in his bed suggests he’s not.

  Uri comes back holding a nondescript bag and a radiant smile on his face. It makes him look younger, boyish even. He hands me the bag expectantly.

  “I hope you’ll let me put it in you before I start breakfast. It’ll give you time to adjust to the feel.”

  Curious what he means, I reach into the bag and wrap my hand around something soft. Pulling it from the bag, I see that it’s a tail. The coloring is remarkably close to my own.

  “I had it specially made with hair saved from Amalie’s last haircut.”

  At his declaration I almost drop it in disgust but manage to keep my hold. I tell myself it’s just hair and nothing more. Wigs are made from the strands of people’s discarded locks every day. This is no different.

  “It’s a plug,” Uri blurts out.

  “A plug?”

  “Yeah, come here. I’ll show you and then I’ll put it in.”

  He takes the tail and shows me the tapered piece of plastic that I assume will be going inside my ass. It has a flat piece to it that looks like it is designed to keep the plug from going in too far. The hair is attached in just a way that it will look as though it is a part of me. I’m not sure of its purpose beyond aesthetics, but I’m sure Uri will let me know.

  “Bend over the table.”

  I stand and do as he says. Uri crouches behind me and I feel his tongue against my hole, wetting me slightly before he pushes the plug in.

  “There. Now my pup has a tail worthy of his beauty.”

  He pulls me upright and presses a kiss to my lips.

  “Go and look.” He points to a floor-length mirror in the entryway and I rush over to see.

  I take in the way his gift looks on me. It really does look like I have a tail and it’s a thing of beauty just as he said. My heart melts a bit toward him. Maybe there’s a logical explanation for the dead wife he keeps in his bed.

  Fourteen

  Urijah

  I love watching Wren with his new tail. It’s been a few days since I gave him the gift and his joy at the way it looks, and feels, filled me with pride. Amalie never got as excited about the gifts I bought for her. She loved animals, especially the pets we raised together. But when I would preserve them so they could always be with her, she would stop talking to me for days.

  Then she got sick, so I tried to do as she wished. The night she saw Wren at the Carnaval was a turning point. For her illness. For our relationship. For our future. Everything changed that night, and I swore to myself I’d do everything I could to get her one last pet.

  I shake off those thoughts and let my gaze follow Wren around the yard. He’s been very obedient, and he truly seems to enjoy running around in the backyard. Some days he is on all fours and others, like today, he runs like the man he is. I’m growing fond of him.

  He hasn’t slept in the room with Amalie again. I moved him back down the hall, and I’ve refrained from pushing him into fucking me. As much as I would love to feel him inside me, I need to figure out why he’s not able to get an erection. When he failed to get hard for me, I blew up without rationally thinking things through. Now I worry there may be something seriously wrong that needs addressing before it causes irreversible damage to my pup.

  I’ve made arrangements for a doctor friend of mine to examine Wren today. I hope he doesn’t try to leave while the other man is here; I’m trusting him to remain loyal to me, but I want him examined. If only for my own peace of mind.

  “Wren,” I call him over to me, pressing a kiss to his lips once he stands before me. “We’re going to have a guest for dinner tonight. A friend of mine. He’s a doctor and I’m hoping he can tell us why you’re unable to get hard.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that a problem?” I frown at his reaction. “Don’t you want to know if there’s something wrong?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just—what if I’m broken? Will you still want me? Would anyone want me?”

  “Pup. Look at me. I will always want you. No matter what.” I’m surprised to find the words are true. I do want him, no matter what. “Now let’s get ready for Wallace. You’ll like him, I think.”

  Wren helps me set the table and watches as I cook the meal. I’m keeping things simple with lasagna and Italian bread. Wren looks deep in thought and I hate to interrupt him, but there are a few things I need to talk to him about before Wallace gets here.

  “Pup.” I make sure I have his attention before I continue. “I need you to be a good boy for me when my friend gets here. It’s time for you to be the dog you are. Don’t be ashamed or try to hide, I’ve told Wallace all about my pet. He’ll be expecting nothing less.”

  Wallace Shepherd is just as fascinated by animals as Amalie. It’s how we became friends. They adore the unique animals that can be kept as pets, and I like to immortalize them for them when the time comes. Taxidermy is a strange and lucrative profession, but I enjoy what I do very much.

  The doorbell rings, and Wren follows behind me on all fours. I pull open the door and greet my friend, “Wallace.”

  “Urijah. It’s been a while. I hope all is well with you.” He eyes me meaningfully, but I ignore his obvious dig for information.

  “This is Wren.” I wave my hand downward in Wren’s direction.

  “Oh my, Uri! He’s gorgeous. Wherever did you find him?” Wallace crouches down to get a closer look at my pup.

  “Amalie saw him at the Carnaval.”

  Wallace gives me a sad and knowing look before returning his attention back to Wren. He pets Wren’s head and back before standing.

  “Something smells good.”

  “I made your favorite. Lasagna. Shall we?”

  Dinner is uneventful. Wallace’s appetite keeps his mouth full, so conversation is minimal. I appreciate Wren being a good dog, sitting on the floor at my feet and
eating from the bowls I brought up from the basement. I’d been lax in feeding him lately, letting him sit at the table with me, and I’d been nervous about how he’d act in front of someone other than me. So far, he’s behaving like the perfect pet. He’s definitely earned himself a treat for later.

  “So, you think there’s another reason for the lack of erection? From what you told me, it’s entirely possible it’s not a physical issue and more of a psychological block from the experiences of his childhood. I’ll have to examine him thoroughly to confirm that it isn’t physical.”

  I rest my hand on Wren’s head and stroke through his hair, allowing his presence to keep me calm. I knew Wallace would have to examine him, but facing the reality of someone else touching my pup in an intimate place makes me want to lash out.

  “I understand. But if it is psychological and not physical, what are our options?”

  “Well, to start, and only temporarily, we would see how Wren does with ED medication. I’d prescribe a low dose and combine it with therapy sessions with a psychiatrist. Eventually I believe it would be possible to wean him off the medication and that minimal sessions would be needed to maintain his mental health. But all this is conjecture and is contingent on there not being any physical barriers that need addressing.”

  I nod, accepting the necessity of what he’s telling me. There’s no way around him touching Wren. Not if I want to help him completely. My pup deserves to be whole, as a man and an animal. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he gets what he needs.

  “Okay. We can set up in the guest room.”

  “Uri.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll need to examine him without you in the room. I know that’s not ideal for you, but I don’t want your presence to affect his reactions.”