Page 21 of His Pet

“You’re doing so well,” I tell him again. It’s true and he needs to hear it.

He’s doing better than any of the pets I’ve ever had. There’s no screaming or fighting, no struggle, just hesitant obedience coated in quiet sadness, which I hope to dispel with time. I haven’t even needed to discipline him yet.

Mikhail was right. He really is perfect for this. I just have to figure out how to convince him that being my pet is the best thing that could have happened to him. I think I’m on the right track there. Despite being afraid of me, Justin already comes to me for comfort. Even now, he throws his arms around me and squeezes me like I’m his lifeline.

I keep stroking his back and whispering into his hair. “There you go. Everything is alright. Whenever you need to be held, I’ll be here for you, I promise.” Unless I’m away for work, but then Justin will be safely inside his cage, and I’ll make up for my absence later.

Justin’s silence continues as we dry off and I put on a spare pair of sweats. He’s not crying anymore, just numbly staring into space, lost in thought. When I tell him to join me on the couch, he immediately curls into my side.

I’ve never had a pet behave like this before, and I’m not quite sure what to think of it. Maybe he’s pretending? Waiting for me to drop my guard?

I’m tense, expecting him to attack me or try to run, but he seems content to just cuddle. When I throw a blanket over us, he hums his quiet approval and snuggles closer to me.

I consider locking him into the cage when I go get the pizza, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes, and the basement’s soundproofing is top-notch. Even if Justin screamed at the top of his lungs, not a peep would be heard upstairs. Besides, I like this calm and cuddly Justin, and I worry the cage will make him cry again.

In my haste, I probably give the delivery guy a ridiculously large tip as I throw random bills at him, but money doesn’t matter to me. At least he’ll be quick to come the next time I order something.

When I return, I’m relieved to find Justin sitting on the couch in the exact spot where I left him. I don’t think he’s moved at all aside from wrapping the blanket tighter around him. He’s still staring right ahead with unseeing eyes, looking so lost and sad my heart aches for him. I wish I could help him, but while I know how to give amazing blowjobs, I know nothing about healing hearts. But…

No one can be sad when they have pizza, right? It always cheers me up when I’m feeling maudlin, which has been happening a little too often recently. I’ve had to spend a lot more time working out because of how much pizza I kept eating.

“Dinner’s here,” I announce loudly. Justin glances at me and his lips curve up in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Still, it’s a start. “I hope you’re hungry. I ordered two.”

“A little,” Justin says, sounding a little uncertain. I assume it’s because he isn’t sure how to talk to me and is afraid of accidentally making me angry. That’s more familiar territory and something I’m used to from pets. As I set the boxes down, he seats himself more comfortably on the couch. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Well, I’d be a terrible Master if I didn’t feed my pets, wouldn’t I?” I grab some napkins from the cupboards, and two paper plates. I have normal ones here as well, but I’m still not one hundred percent certain about Justin’s intentions. I’d rather not be smacked with a heavy ceramic plate.

If it disappoints Justin, he doesn’t let it show. He puts a slice of pizza on one plate, then hesitates, his startled eyes meeting mine again. “Am I expected to serve you, Sir?”

I smile, pleased that he’s actively trying to figure out the rules. “I won’t say no if it pleases you, but you don’t have to. I’m happy to serve you instead.” Justin seems confused by my words, but when I fill a plate for him and offer it to him in exchange for the one he prepared, he accepts. My smile widens. “There. Now we’ve served each other. Kind of like earlier, don’t you think?”

His voice is hollow as he replies, “Yes, Sir.” He lowers his head again, studying his slice of pizza like it’s infinitely more interesting than I am. I try not to be offended. After all, everyone loves pizza.

He only eats two slices, then half of another one at my gentle insistence. It doesn’t feel enough, but then, he’s probably half my weight, so I can’t expect him to eat the same amount I do.

After dinner, we cuddle on the couch again, and my plans for more sexy fun time die a slow death by food coma. I hate wasting food, so naturally I had to finish what Justin didn't eat, and now I’m too tired to move. This is good too, though. Sitting on a comfy couch with a warm, pliant pet curled up to my side. That’s how everyone’s day should end.

Chapter 15

Justin

I can’t even begin to describe how much I hate myself right now.

I always thought my father was exaggerating when he called me weak and useless, but now I see that he was right. I’m weak. I’m cuddling with the one person I should be hating, and it’s not just because it keeps him calm and happy. It’s also because it keeps me calm and, if not happy, then at least content, and I hate myself for that even more.

I try to hate Cameron, I really do, but he makes it damn hard by being so nice all the time. Why does he have to be like that?

I expected him to hurt me. Slap me around or tie me up and whip me bloody. There are enough terrifying canes and whips hanging on the walls for him to choose from, and I assume the cabinets hide even more. But he just holds me and comforts me. And I let him, because I need that comfort.

Numbly, I wonder if I’m in shock. I’m certain I should be feeling more. More fear, more anger, more motivation to get out of here. Everything feels distant and muted, though, like I’m watching the world through a foggy glass.

There’s some sitcom playing on TV, but neither of us are watching it. Cameron is running his fingers through my hair in sleepy contentment, and I’m stuck in the land of numbness behind that glass. I catch myself tracing idle patterns on Cameron’s chest, but he obviously likes it, so I don’t stop. Maybe if he fell asleep…

I need to start thinking about escaping, but it’s hard when I’m warm, comfortable, and yes, pleasantly spent after that huge orgasm.

No.

I mentally shake myself. It was rape. Even if tonight has been a better date than most I’ve been on so far. Sex, dinner, cuddling…