Pet

by Lesli Richardson

  I fuck him at lunch time because he’s once again in position, lubed and ready when I open the door.

  And his cock’s hard.

  This time, I roll him onto his back and fuck him face-to-face, his legs pushed up and back, bent at the knees, and let him jerk his own cock.

  The entranced look on his face as he watches me makes it difficult for me to hold back my orgasm until he comes, but when he does, I follow immediately.

  “Good boy.” I untangle myself from him and clean up and still he lays there, staring.

  I point to his mess. “Get busy.”

  He realizes what I mean and immediately starts cleaning up his come.

  While he does that, I bring in a longer chain I had ready in the bedroom, lock it to the toilet where the shorter chain is locked, and then lock the other end to the D-ring on the collar.

  “Where’s the padlock key?”

  He points to the sink and I see it sitting there.

  I palm it and step back to the doorway before I toss him the key that will unlock the lock on his waist. “Good boys earn rewards. Remember that. Have you been using the buttplug?”

  “Yes, Sir. I go to sleep with it in and take it out when I wake up to pee in the middle of the night. And I wear it off and on during the day so I’m ready for you.”

  He is well-trained. I leave the bathroom door open and move the bed so it’s close to the bathroom door. He doesn’t have enough chain to make it to the bedroom door or to the window.

  He’ll have to earn that.

  He watches me do all of this without moving, just watching me.

  When I finish, I motion to him. “You can unlock the waist lock. Manacles and shackles stay on, for now. You may come out of the bathroom.

  After unlocking the waist lock, he slowly stands and shuffles into the bathroom doorway, staring around.

  “I’ll be back at dinner,” I tell him, locking the bedroom door behind me.

  What he does next will help shape the next days and weeks.

  At dinnertime, I find him kneeling on the floor next to the bed, but ass pointed at the door.

  “Good boy. Up on the bed. Sit on a towel. You can eat sitting there.”

  He complies and I step back while he eats.

  “Retired General Coltrane Cunningham,” I say.

  He stops chewing and I swear he goes absolutely white. “Yes, Sir?”

  “I have a grudge of my own against him.”

  “You…do?”

  “Yeah.” I tell him what I know and see the color slowly drain back into his features. “I also have a plan, but you and I have unfinished business here. I can’t very well take a feral, unproven pet who’s supposed to be dead overseas. There are a few steps first. Trust to establish. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Your choice—hands free, or feet free?”

  He studies me for a moment. “Which would Sir prefer?”

  I shake my head. “No. I asked you. If I give you a choice, make it.”

  He thinks for a moment. “Feet, Sir.”

  “Why?”

  He actually blushes. “So when you fuck me like you did, I can wrap my legs around you and see your face easily.”

  My eyebrow slowly arches. “Excellent reason.” I walk over and drop the key in his lap. Leave them unlocked and on the dresser.” Then I ruffle his hair. “Such a good boy. I’ll be back soon. You can lie on the bed. With the exception of the other rules, you’re free to move around the full length of your chain.”

  I leave him alone up there for an hour. When I return, he’s washed his dishes and set them on the dresser.

  He’s also kneeling on the floor in his usual position.

  “Good boy.” I sit on the edge of the bed and pat my thigh. “Come here.”

  He slowly scrambles around to kneel in front of me and puts his head in my lap. I scratch his head, letting him sit there and just be for a few minutes. When I see how the tension finally flows out of his shoulders, I know he’s hitting subspace.

  I gradually tighten my grip on his hair, until I’m fisting it and pressing his face against my zipper. His breath comes in short, shallow gasps as he starts to nuzzle the outline of my cock, which is painfully pressing against my fly.

  “Ask me for what you want.”

  “Please, let me suck your cock, Sir.”

  Keeping one hand on his head, I use the other to fish out my cock and then instead of the practically gentle blowjobs he’s given me, this one I force down his throat, using him, gagging him on it over and over again until I quickly spill and resume gently stroking his scalp. “Did you drip all over the floor?”

  “Probably, Sir,” he mumbles.

  “Check. Clean it up if you did.” I release his head and he gets down and licks up a few spots.

  His rigid cock bobs in front of him.

  “Go get your buttplug and lube and get back out here.”

  A moment later, he’s kneeling on the bed and I put it in him while he kneels on the bed.

  “On your back.”

  He complies, and I quickly jerk him off and then feed every drop to him.

  He stares up at me with a beautifully glazed expression I mentally crow over.

  This is going better than I thought.

  To sleep, I chain his hands to the head of the bed, because again, I’m not an idiot.

  I also show him the keys to all the locks currently holding him captive and toss them down the hallway.

  If I don’t survive the night, he won’t survive for long.

  Once I lie down next to him, he snuggles against me and I roll to face him with my arm draped over him.

  That’s the last thing I remember until just before dawn the next morning, when I open my eyes to find him watching me.

  “Good morning, Sir. I didn’t kill you in your sleep.” The hint of a smile makes me laugh.

  “Good boy!” After I take my morning piss, I get the key to release his hands from the bed frame and he goes into the bathroom.

  When he emerges, I back Eddie against the wall and cage him with both arms, staring into his hazel eyes while trying not to think about what thoughts Carter had so many years ago when in this exact same position with the man. Eddie slouches a little, dipping his knees to make himself shorter than me.

  I wonder if he used to do that with my brother, who’s an inch shorter than I am.

  I wonder if my brother trained him to do that, or if it came naturally for Eddie.

  Slanting my lips over his in a crushing kiss, I wait until he’s softly moaning and his cock is hard and dripping to finally end the kiss. “Do you want to help me kill Cunningham?”

  He firmly nods. “Yes, Sir.”

  “If I give you freedom and you run, I will hunt you down and kill you. Do you understand?”

  He smiles. “Yes, Sir. I won’t run.” But he hasn’t asked to be freed, either.

  Not once.

  The swelling in his face is way down now and the bruises are starting to fade. I see the man Carter fell hard for and tried to protect.

  Tried to nurture and love.

  I grab him by the throat and kiss him again and he melts. “Soft and fluffy doesn’t work for you, does it?” I ask.

  His gaze narrows. “No, Sir. I like it rough. I need it rough.”

  “Good.” I turn and shove him onto the bed. “Then let’s step it up a little.”

  The next morning, I free Eddie from the wrist manacles. By the tenth morning, I’m convinced I completely own him when I walk into the bedroom and, before I can say anything, Eddie climbs onto the bed on his hands and knees, drops his head onto the pillow, and presents his ass to me.

  Plus, his cock’s hard.

  “Good boy,” I hoarsely say before swallowing, because my mouth goes dry as every bit of blood and spit and a lot of other bodily fluids congeal in my rock-hard cock and swelling balls.

  “Thank you, Sir,” comes his muffled reply. Just a hint of eager butt wiggle.

  I
’m no idiot. He sees me as a replacement for Carter.

  Honestly? That’s fine.

  What? I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to the guy when I definitely am. I haven’t been this horny in a long damned time.

  Too damned long.

  I feel like a fricking teenager again, when I was first in the service and away from home and able to meet guys in dark and dirty back rooms and bathrooms in some of the seediest bars in Europe, before I had the bravery to go home with some of those men and properly spank and fuck them on a bed or on a couch, or, sometimes, in the back seat of a car.

  Always as a Top. I’ve bottomed a couple of times, more out of curiosity and because the guy was incredibly hot, but it’s not my preference.

  Eddie, however, is the perfect subby power bottom for me. Outside of the bedroom, he’s ruthless, cut-throat, and highly skilled.

  Inside of the bedroom, he’s beautifully compliant and a puddle of pre-cum and need and tightly wound desire eager and able to mold himself to my every whim in his desperation to please me and seek my approval and praise.

  How the fuck did Carter walk away from him? I would have been using any and every trick in the book, including guilt-tripping Eddie, to force him to take the medical discharge the doctors wanted to give him and make him leave the Army with me.

  I struggle with a brief flare of righteous anger toward my little brother, because he didn’t do Eddie any favors by not fighting harder for him.

  Then again, they were both far younger men. I suppose I have no room to talk, considering here I am, approaching my sixth decade alive, and no one in my family even knows I’ve never so much as fingered a woman, much less fucked one. Been balls-deep inside more men than I can comfortably count, but while I made a show of dating in high school, I was always careful to pick girls who needed me as their beard as much as I needed them in return.

  I unfasten my belt and slowly strip it from my jeans, making it last and making sure he can hear me do it. I take my time as I fist the buckle and wrap a few turns of the supple leather around my hand. It’s been used on plenty of men before now, more names and faces than I’m able to recall, but something is special this time.

  This is the last man it will ever be used on. Not unless he dies on me, or I have to kill him because he’s betrays me.

  Releasing Eddie is not an option, period. Not even once I’ve taken my revenge and can finally figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

  It’s ironic that my little brother and I both have long-held grudges to settle before we can truly move on, and they both revolve around avenging this man kneeling on my bed.

  I mean, mine also involves my brothers, but you get the idea. There’s a nice symmetry to it. Especially considering Elsa Pfeiffer and Coltrane Cunningham were linked in their despicable dealings and preying on young men too naïve to realize what was going on was outright abuse of their positions of trust and power, even if their victims were “consenting adults.”

  Not to mention Cunningham’s sins extend far beyond that to negligent and careless homicide, even if he wasn’t and will never be charged with that.

  I belt Eddie’s ass red and fuck him until we both come, and then we collapse into a tangled heap on the bed.

  “Breakfast, pet?” I ask him.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  I kiss him. I like kissing him. He’s a good kisser.

  And I love snuggling with him, too. We snuggle before going to sleep at night while I hold his collar and ask him questions.

  Probably not a coincidence I haven’t had a single fucking nightmare in a couple of days.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the next morning, I’m ready to take the next step with him. Now that I’ve spent this time with Eddie, getting to know him inside and out—literally—I know one thing for certain.

  Eddie is mine.

  I’m not just fucking around, either. He doesn’t get a choice in the matter. Eddie has proven he’s absolute shit at making relationship decisions, so I’m going to take that right out of his hands.

  He’s the perfect partner for me. He craves the darkest parts of my soul and wants me because of them. I don’t have to hold back with him in any way.

  I don’t have to spin a web of lies for him to hide my history.

  I don’t have to be ashamed of who I am, and I can help him learn not to be ashamed of who he is, either.

  My kit’s in the living room. I dig through it and find what I’m looking for, then snag a bottle of rubbing alcohol, too. From the kitchen I grab the vodka I’d meant to enjoy upon my return to Paris after completing this job. A little celebration.

  This is a celebration of sorts, though.

  Will be, anyway.

  I take my time heading up the stairs, my cock already thickening knowing that Eddie’s listening for me and waiting for me.

  His cock’s probably getting hard, too.

  I pause outside the bedroom doorway and take a couple of deep breaths to try to slow my pulse. I feel like a bridegroom on his wedding night.

  Although Eddie and I damned sure aren’t virgins.

  That evil woman took his virginity and then poisoned his soul to the point he didn’t know where he ended and she began, or what it was he wanted and needed.

  Not really.

  All I can do for him is fill in the blanks and be a steady anchor for him. For the first time in his life, he’ll have someone to lean on without fear of discovery, and without worrying what anyone thinks.

  Anyone who isn’t me, I mean. Because I will firmly plant myself as the center of his universe, and his orbit shall forever be tied to me from this point forward.

  I look at the knife in my hand. It’s sharp enough to shave with. Literally.

  Let’s see if it’s sharp enough to carve that last festering remnant of that fucking evil bitch from his soul.

  I unlock the door and, sure enough, Eddie’s already on the bed, hands and knees, ass up and head down.

  I step inside and close the door behind me. “Good boy,” I softly coo. My cock twitches at the visible ripple of gooseflesh that sweeps over him as his cock jerks.

  Walking over to the bedside table, I set down the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the bottle of vodka. “Look at me,” I softly say.

  He does, his eyes widening when he spots the knife. To his credit, while the chain rattles a little, he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away.

  I set it on the bed next to him and reach for my belt, his gaze now cycling between my hands and the knife. It’s a wicked one, too. A sharp stiletto that can kill.

  I should know—it has.

  If we had more time, I’d go buy a new one for this, but maybe this is better. I’ve had this knife for over thirty years. It’s not a throwaway.

  Neither is Eddie.

  “You have a choice to make today,” I say, keeping my tone soft and low. He’s going to be gentled whether he likes it or not. I will teach him about affection, about pleasure that doesn’t have to come on the heels of the bad kind of pain.

  I will teach him about love, and that true love doesn’t hurt in bad ways.

  That he can love and be loved and only accept the pain he wants to, and keep that pain only in his body, not his heart and soul.

  Waiting until his hazel gaze finally stills and settles on me, butterflies swarm inside me as I say it. “You need a Master, and I want you as my pet. The only pet I want and need. Never anyone else but us. I will always be the Alpha in this duet, always on top, in every way.”

  His eyes widen even more, his entire body trembling. He nods a little. Such a good boy, even now he won’t speak without permission.

  “But if you want to be mine, you need to know I am going to mark you. You will beg to bleed for me and wear my mark.”

  He licks his lips and nods again, a little more forcefully this time.

  “And I will put that mark where I want it, understood?”

  I think he’s finally jumped on my train of t
hought, because this time his nod is even more eager than before.

  “If you want me to be your owner, your Master—your Alpha, then start begging, pet.”

  He turns a little on the bed to face me while maintaining his head down-ass up position. “Sir, please let me belong to you and wear your mark! I need you…”

  I let him go on for several minutes, reaching out with my free hand and rubbing the top of his head while he does. He’s already dropped himself deep into subspace and probably doesn’t even realize it.

  Finally, I fist his hair and wrench his head up and back so I can lean in. “Forever, pet. That’s what this is. We have to do some things, take care of some unfinished business in the States. Once we do, then you and I are going to move someplace quiet and I will spend the rest of our lives together showing you how a loving relationship should be handled. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir! Please!”

  I tighten my grip on his hair. “We’re going to kill Callahan. I’m going to retire. We’ll get you a new identity. You’re going to marry me, and there will be no decision you ever make again that I don’t first sign off on.”

  “Please!”

  I release his hair and shove his head down onto the bed. Then I proceed to use the belt on his ass, viciously striping his flesh with it while he sobs and cries and yet still manages to wiggle his ass in delight.

  I don’t spend much time on that but I want him to build new memories starting here and now. Dropping the belt onto the floor, I wrap my fingers around the back of his collar and pin him down with that. Working one-handed, I unscrew the cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol, then flick the knife open one-handed and dip the blade into it. I set the knife on his back, then pour some alcohol over the scar.

  Setting that aside, I pick up the knife again.

  “Pledge yourself to me, pet. Tell me your vows. This is the last and only chance you get to make a decision for yourself without my input.”

  The tears choking his voice are almost enough to make me stop and talk to him but I realize I can’t. He needs this catharsis.

  He needs me.