“Yes, Sir,” he mumbles around his mouthful of food.
“Good boy,” I coo.
His eyes widen.
“Ooooh, yes,” I say. “I am not unfamiliar with the kind of relationship you and your Carter had. Use that as your blueprint for dealing with me, and your life will quickly grow infinitely easier and better. You might even grow to enjoy it.”
He’s still frozen, wide-eyed and staring at me.
I wait.
He swallows the mouthful of food. “Yes, Sir,” he whispers.
I smile, which he can see through the mouth hole on my balaclava. “Good boy!” I brightly say. “You are a fast learner. See? I like that.”
From the angle and where he’s sitting, he can’t see the supplies I have tucked next to the door. I take a pack of cookies from the bag and slide it across to him.
“Make those last a couple of days. I will keep you fed, but that’s the only package of cookies I bought.” That’s a lie, because I have two more downstairs. I shopped for approximately three weeks’ worth of food. “Let’s see how much self-control you have.”
He nods. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Good boy!” I grab another blanket, a soft, warm one, and push it in just far enough I know he can reach it. “See? Reasonable man. Yes, I enjoy a good mind fuck as much as the next sadist, but this isn’t a mind fuck.”
I mean, it totally is, but I don’t want him realizing that until after the fact. “This is an information expedition. I have many reasons to keep you alive despite the fact that my life would be infinitely easier if I’d done what I told my handler I did and kill you. But the more I talk to you, Eddie, the more I like you. When I feel I can tell you everything, I think you might come to like me, too, eventually.”
I harden my voice. “You try to escape, I won’t hesitate to kill you and burn the house down to hide your body.” I let my light tone return. “You cooperate, and I think you’ll find I’m very easy to keep happy in a number of ways. And yes, I’m gay, if you were wondering. And, yes, some of those ways of keeping me happy involve me fucking one or both of your holes, and me even jerking your cock for you while we do, if you earn that privilege.”
I note the way his sweatpants tent and yes, that’s exactly why he didn’t get underwear. I wanted to be able to see if I get a literal rise out of him.
He finally nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to rape you. That doesn’t interest me at all. But I think you’re going to find you’ll be begging me to take you before long. Not today, though. Today you’re going to rest, because I’m sure you feel like absolute fucking shit. Yes, you’ll probably be in a K-hole, because I dosed you heavily to keep you asleep. And yes, I’ve moved you from where we were before. Different country. By the way, don’t you touch your fucking cock other than to pee. I catch you jerking off, you’ll lose privileges.”
He nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I let all that sink in while he takes a few more bites of the tender, juicy roast beef. I splurged for really good meat, because you don’t bait a stray dog with more dog shit.
“Tell me, Eddie. Do you want to live? Honestly?”
You’d think that’d be an easy question to answer, but for someone like Eddie, who I expect has a lot of childhood trauma, maybe not so much.
Finally, he nods. “Yes, Sir. I think so. But not at the expense of Carter or his family.”
Bingo. “You have no reason to trust me right now. I get that. But I promise if you cooperate with me, no harm will come to them. That means no trying to escape, following my orders, and talking to me.”
His resigned sigh is music to my ears. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.” I slowly stand and remove the chair from the doorway. “I’m going to leave the light on and lock you in for a little while. I am in the house. If you need something, knock hard on the bathroom door three times and then wait. If I don’t come immediately, wait a few minutes and try again. Only three times. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Knock only three times. Wait. Repeat if needed.”
“No talking or yelling or anything like that while I’m not talking to you. We don’t have neighbors, anyway. All that bullshit will do is annoy the fuck out of me and make me take your cookies. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I wish I dared risk reaching in and ruffling his hair, because I suspect he’s got a raging case of skin hunger, but this stray and feral dog still poses too much of a bite risk for me to do that.
“If I see any signs you’ve tried to get loose, you’ll get punishment. Worse, you might make me rethink not wanting to hurt those little boys. Don’t make me do that. I have cameras on you, so I can see what happens.” Again, that’s a mindfuck, but it might help keep him compliant.
He nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I take an unopened bottle of ibuprofen from the bag, show him it’s sealed, open it and shake three tablets out, and then toss them to him. I won’t leave the whole bottle with him because I don’t trust him not to deliberately OD on them in an attempt to kill himself.
“You can sleep,” I tell him. “You can sit here. You can stand and move around as far as the chain allows you to. You will keep this bathroom clean, though. You can use the toilet, so there’s no excuse to shit or piss yourself.” I glance at my watch. “It’s almost noon. I will bring you more food by six. Don’t eat all your cookies.” I want to test his self-control as much as I do his obedience.
I step back to close the door.
“Thank you, Sir.”
That pulls me up short. I pause, studying him for a moment. “You’re very welcome,” I gently say before I ease the door shut and secure it.
Hearing the full story from Eddie about how he and Carter came to be—and inevitably came apart at the seams—and the lasting damage Elsa Pfeiffer and Coltrane Cunningham wrought on both their psyches, makes me see the man in an entirely new light.
It also convinces me the decision to turn Eddie into my pet is not just the right decision, but it’s the only decision I can make.
I have a soft spot for strays. Sue me.
I spend the next few hours putting the house into order for long-term residence, doing research, and planning my next steps. A few times, I hear the sink tap run, and the toilet flushes twice.
He doesn’t knock or make any noise other than that.
When five o’clock rolls around, I take Eddie a hot dinner of a large bowl of chicken noodle soup, another large bowl of steamed vegetables, and a huge hunk of fresh bread from a local bakery with butter already on it. I find him sitting on the floor where I left him.
“Good boy! Don’t move.” I set the food—in plastic bowls, thank you very much—on the floor just inside the door where he can reach them. “Wait for the soup to cool a little so you don’t burn your mouth. You have to earn utensils.”
He nods. “Thank you, Sir.”
“It’s five o’clock.” I shake out four more tablets from the bottle of ibuprofen and leave them in the bowl with the bread. I tell him the time so he understands I came back an hour earlier than I told him before. I want him learning to trust that I mean it when I say I’m not going to hurt him, and that I will take care of him, and also that I can be unpredictable in good ways.
He’s smart enough to have learned from the earlier kick that I can be unpredictable in bad ways, too.
“Show me the cookies.”
He holds up the package, and from the empty spaces in the plastic tray, it looks like he only ate two.
“Good boy!” I say, my tone light and pleased. “You can have three more with dinner.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome.” I don’t want to address him as boy because I’m not yet sure how Elsa and Cunningham addressed him, and it’s too early to start calling him pet.
This must be done in stages, but it sure as hell helps to have him pre-trained, in some ways.
Thank you, Carter.
; I come back two hours later to find Eddie’s not only finished his meal, but he washed and dried the bowls and left them neatly stacked by the door.
I didn’t specifically tell him he had to do that, but it earns him praise and a reward.
“You are a clever one,” I say. “Good job!”
The hint of a pleased smile tries to break through before he schools his expression. “Thank you, Sir.”
After I clear the bowls I toss him a pillow. “See? Good boys earn rewards.”
“Thank you, Sir.” He puts the pillow behind his back, wincing as he eases himself against it.
He’s got to be hurting like a motherfucker but I’m not giving him anything stronger than ibuprofen for his pain because I need him clear-headed.
With the chair back in its previous position, I straddle it and study him for a moment. “You grew up in foster care. What was that like?”
I think he was expecting a lot of questions but not that. “It sucked.”
I get him talking about his childhood, what he remembers about his mom, what led him to enlisting and how he made it to Germany.
“Tell me about when you met Elsa Pfeiffer.” The scowl he makes is the first hint of balking I’ve seen since we started talking this time, so I nip it in the bud. “You don’t need to know why I want to know all of this. Remember, easy way or hard way.”
He deflates and starts talking.
As he does, my rage grows. Especially when I can see how damaging this all was for him. He sounds steadier than he did earlier today, but his voice wavers as he talks, and a few times he has to stop and swallow back tears before continuing.
I don’t interrupt.
Once he reaches the point in the story where Elsa had Carter fuck him for the first time, I mark that as our ending point. He’s exhausted, drained, and hurting.
Sliding a travel toothbrush and toothpaste over to him, I stand and move the chair. “That’s enough for tonight,” I gently tell him. “It’s nearly ten at night. You can turn the light off and sleep. I will be sleeping out here in this room, but first I’m going to take a shower in the other bathroom. I will check on you one more time before I go to bed by knocking on the bathroom door. You’d better answer me. Understand?”
He nods. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“I’ll let you take another shower in the morning after breakfast.” I slide another protein drink into the bathroom, and a protein bar. “There’s a snack, if you need them. How do you get my attention if you need it?”
“Knock three times and wait, Sir.”
“Good boy. Sleep well.”
“Thank you, Sir. You, too.”
I hold back my smile until I have the door shut and secured. Normally, I’d be worried he was playing possum by giving in this easily, but he was already broken long before we crossed paths. Most of the work was done for me, unfortunately.
All I have to do is take advantage of the situation and help rebuild him the way I want him to be.
I have a very limited amount of time in which to accomplish that.
Removing the balaclava, I run my hand through my hair and scratch my scalp. I hate the stupid thing, because it’s hot, and it’s annoying, but at the rate we’re progressing, I might be able to ditch it tomorrow. For now, I want him to sit with his thoughts overnight and process everything he’s told me.
Because I also want him fully sitting with the emptiness in his life and how Carter was the only person to ever make him feel alive and wanted. I want him recalling those feelings.
That means he’ll latch on to me harder and a lot faster.
Chapter Twelve
Eddie passes the night uneventfully. I check on him before I go to sleep and again when I awaken around three in the morning.
When I bring him his breakfast, he’s sitting up, the light on, with both blankets folded and under him as padding. His face is a little less swollen, but the bruising is worse now, dark purples and blues that will fade over the next few days.
I almost regret hitting him in the face now. Then again, had everything not happened exactly as it did, he’d already be cold and buried in the ground and I’d have never known his connection to Carter or to Cunningham.
“Good morning,” I cheerfully say.
“Good morning, Sir.”
Setting his food on the floor a little farther inside the bathroom than I did yesterday, I step back and wait for him to take it before I put the chair into position and sit. This morning he’s eating scrambled eggs, bacon, more bread, two bananas, and more ibuprofen. Overnight he ate the protein bar and finished the protein drink.
We talk more about what he survived from Elsa, and I ask more details about what the colonel did to him and to Carter.
I ask specifics about Eddie’s relationship with Carter, both while they were still with Elsa and after. Even though we covered some of this yesterday, I want to make sure his story doesn’t change, and to clarify a few points.
After he finishes, he winces and gets to his feet and washes the dishes in the sink and dries them.
“Set them on the floor by the sink.”
“Yes, Sir.” He does.
“Move your pillow and the blankets to the other side of the bathroom, so they don’t get wet, then sit back down.”
“Yes, Sir.” He does.
I toss him the wrist key first. “Unlock, remove the shirt, lock yourself up, and give me the key.” He does, and we repeat that for his sweatpants. He folds the clothes and neatly stacks them on the closed toilet lid.
“Into the bathtub. Don’t fill it as much as you did yesterday.”
He’s getting used to maneuvering while shackled and accomplishes it a little less clumsily this time. I don’t bother hiding how I look at his cock as he does. He’s not hard, but he’s not shriveled up, either. He’s flaccid and I suspect the comfort of having someone telling him what to do is starting to remind him of the good things between him and my little brother.
Once he’s in the tub, I stand, noting the flash of alarm in his gaze when I do. I hold up a hand. “Stay.” I reach into my back pocket and toss him a tube of lube. “Try to rub one out.” I stand there, arms crossed, waiting.
He stares up at me, lips doing that unintended fish thing for a moment as he tries to figure out what to say, finally settling on the only safe answer for him.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy! I know you might not be able to get it up under the circumstances, but like I told you, I will reward you.” I unbuckle my leather belt, letting him see that I’m doing it, and unfasten my jeans. I went commando this morning, and I’m already chubbed because I spent five minutes downstairs fluffing myself in anticipation of doing this.
He swallows hard as he watches me. “Your hand isn’t moving,” I tell him.
Red fills his face. “Sorry, Sir.” He squirts lube in his hand and grabs his cock.
“Good boy.” I pull another tube of lube out of my other back pocket and start stroking myself. “Watch me, boy.”
He does, his hand quickly settling into a rhythm as his cock grows. I step closer, knowing he’s distracted watching me.
Yeah, I’m a twisted fuck. I admit it. But imagining sinking my cock down his throat is what quickly gets me off only a few minutes later. He comes just as he sees me make it, and I’ve approached so close that I can spill all over him and the edge of the tub.
I step back safely out of range before he can recover. Rinsing my hands in the sink, I quickly tuck in and zip up. My cum’s splashed all over him, his hair, his face, and his wide gaze—as wide as it can be with his eyes still puffy—stares up at me in wonder.
“Later, if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you swallow that. For now, use your hand to get as much as you can and lick it up. Eyes on me as you do.”
He only hesitates a moment before he complies. I nod encouragingly as he does, smiling when he finishes.
“Thank you, Sir,” he says before I even order him to thank me. Fuck, he really is well-t
rained.
I owe Carter some cookies or something.
“Good boy! You’re very welcome. Take your bath, dry off, and get out.” I return to the doorway and stand there leaning against it, arms crossed, watching.
Once he’s finished I give him clean clothes to wear and we repeat yesterday’s process. If he continues progressing this quickly, I have no doubts I’ll be able to bind him to me.
I leave him alone until lunch, spend a little time chatting with him about his childhood, and then leave him alone in the house to run errands, returning just before dinner.
In all this time, when I’m not talking with him, he hasn’t made a single noise other than to use the sink or toilet. I know, because of the camera feed.
Dinner is when I change things up to help forward my plan. I set his food at the doorway but don’t move it closer. Instead, I hold up something I suspect he’s familiar with, two of the items I retrieved from the locker in town where my Amazon order was delivered. “Know what this is?”
He nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“Just to show you I’m fair, I will let you freely choose. No punishment, either. You are free to not put them on, if you don’t want to.” I set the items on the floor and slide them over to him. His gaze follows their path and remains on them. “You don’t even have to decide right now. You can put them on the back of the toilet and leave them there in case you decide to put them on. But if you put them on, it means you’re giving me permission to do things.”
He swallows hard. “What things, Sir?”
“I like you, Eddie. I’m going to go so far as to admit that I think you’re an attractive man. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid. This morning, hell, that was the first time I felt like jerking off in several weeks. But I bet you know how to suck a cock, don’t you?”
He slowly nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“I’m an asshole, and a bastard, but I’m no rapist. I’m happy to keep jerking off over you. I think we both know you didn’t mind that. And as you saw, I rewarded you for it. But it’s been a long damned time since I’ve had a really good blowjob from someone who knows how the fuck to do it, Eddie. I bet you liked it when Carter choked you on his cock, didn’t you?”
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