Page 39 of His Pet

Justin comes to when he’s close to an orgasm. He looks around blearily until his unfocused eyes home in on me. This time, it’s definitely my name he moans. “Cam’ron…”

Normally, I insist pets address me as Sir or Master, and Justin usually does, but there’s something intimate about hearing my name from Justin’s lips. Like we’re more than just a Master and his pet.

Justin’s mouth is curved with a sleepy smile and I kiss him, wanting to keep this moment in my memory forever. He kisses me back, then falls back asleep, still smiling.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I need to be inside him now, so I slather some lube over my cock and his hole, making a mess of the bed in the process, and thrust home. Justin moans as I slide in, one hand smacking my shoulder as he scrambles to grab me.

“So fucking good.”

Earlier, I was so excited to finally be inside Justin that I came too quickly, but I take my time now. I fuck him with slow, long thrusts, reveling in the way his inner walls squeeze me. His cock is trapped between our bodies and Justin cries out when I lower myself to rub against it. When he reaches for it, I grab his hand and click his cuff to one of the rings conveniently placed on the headboard. After securing both his arms, I push Justin’s knees to his chest, opening him up more, and lose myself in his body.

***

Justin

I feel like I’m deep underwater. Not drowning, but unable to get out and clear my head. Sometimes I get close to the surface, my mind clearing enough to realize what’s happening, but then something drags me back under.

There are feelings, sensations, and sometimes images. My muscles are sore, like that time my father put me through one of his workout routines to “make a man out of me.” My ass hurts even worse. My skin is itchy with something drying up on it. My cock is painfully hard. And every time I open my eyes, there’s Cameron. Smiling at me, kissing me, telling me sweet things.

Fucking me.

That’s probably why my ass is so sore. How many times did he fuck me? I can’t remember, but every time I woke up, he was inside me one way or another.

I whimper when I feel him move behind me, his cock once again forcing its way into my ass. It hurts, and it feels like a betrayal, because didn’t he promise he wouldn’t hurt me?

“Stop, please,” I try to say, but I’m not sure if he can even understand me. My tongue doesn’t feel like my own. “It’s too much.”

A hand is wrapped around my cock, stroking it. “You can take it, pet,” Cameron croons into my ear. “You’ve been so good for me. One more time.”

One more time. I feel like he said those words before, but maybe it was just a drug-fueled dream. “Okay. One more time,” I say like Cameron actually wants my input. Like he isn’t just going to use me whatever way he wants.

“Such a good boy. You’re making me so happy.”

I’m making him happy. The pain isn’t so bad, and I smile as I let myself slip back into that haze where nothing matters. Cameron’s cock moves back and forth, back and forth, in a nearly hypnotic rhythm, lulling me to sleep. My cock doesn’t want to sleep, though. It wants a release, now, even though it’s so sensitive I know I already came before.

“Please…”

Cameron doesn’t stroke me faster, but he shifts the angle of his thrusts to hit my prostate. I cry out, and then I’m coming, my cock spurting more cum on the crusty sheet beneath me. Yeah, it’s definitely not the first time I came.

I pass out again. I can’t tell if I’m out for one minute or twenty, but when I wake up, my cock hurts because Cameron is still stroking it, even though it’s soft and very much done. He’s also still inside of me, grunting as he fucks me. He’s close, though. During the past ten days, I’ve watched him come often enough to recognize the signals. The catch in his breath, the stutter of his hips, the way his grip turns bruising. Then his back arches as he thrusts into me once more, and he freezes, his shaft pulsating inside of me. He also finally lets go of my tortured cock, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps it will be over now.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Cameron grunts out, grinding his hips against my ass. “I could do this forever.”

“Please don’t.”

I thought I’d used my inner voice, but Cameron’s guffaw tells me I said it out loud. “Don’t worry, pet, we’ll take a break. After all, we’ve been at it for hours.”

Hours. Good lord. Is this guy even human?

“I’m very much human, but you can call me God, if you want,” Cameron teases. I must have voiced my thoughts out loud again. That’s not good. What if I think something I shouldn’t, and he hears it?

Don’t think about escape, Justin. Don’t think about hating Cameron.

“I don’t hate you,” I find myself saying, and I curse the stupid drugs for making me blab nonsense. Why did I say that? I do hate him, don’t I? He just drugged me so he could rape me for hours. I should be able to hate him for that.

Except it’s really difficult to hate Cameron.

He kisses my shoulder, so tender I want to cry. “I’m happy to hear that. Go back to sleep, pet. Catch some rest. Then we’ll do it one more time.”