Page 10 of His Pet

My heart stutters, then starts beating faster, as if it could jump out of my chest and escape. As arousing as watching porn and fantasizing about being held down and taken against my will was, the reality is terrifying enough for my fear to drown out any confusing pleasure I might feel.

“I can’t. I can’t, please, don’t do this. Let me go,” I beg incoherently, any plans of pretending to cooperate vanishing in the face of panic. “Please!”

I squirm under Cameron in desperate need to move, to run, to get out of here. This can’t be happening. Not to me. I’m boring. I study accounting, for fuck’s sake! And I enjoy it. People don’t get much weirder than that. I’m not tall, strong, or attractive in any way. I have a feeling the girls who’ve shown any interest in me were just being nice. Or because I helped them with their class assignments, and I doubt that’s what Cameron is after.

“Ssh.” Cameron lets go of my hair to smooth a hand down my arm. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe here.”

Safe? The word is so incredulous I bark out a hysterical laugh. I’m safe here? Is he for real?

I’m naked and he’s holding me down bent over a table. All it would take is for him to undo his zipper and he could fuck me right where we are. He’s already touched me without my consent and he promised to hurt me if I disobey him, and I’m supposed to feel safe here?

“Here, let me show you.”

Cameron pulls me up and supports me when I wobble. Once my vision stops spinning, I’m treated to a full view of the room, equipped half as a luxurious condo and half as a BDSM dungeon. Aside from a huge bed and a comfortable seating area arranged around a decently-sized TV, there’s also a kitchenette in the corner and a door in the back which I assume leads to the bathroom. The door on the opposite side of the room, which must lead outside, is much sturdier and a keypad glows next to it. Fuck.

And of course, there’s a cage, which is where Cameron leads me to. It’s waist-high, made out of gleaming metal, and the bars look sturdy. The opening gapes like the maw of a hungry monster, and I just know that if I go in, that’s it. I’m never getting out of here, never seeing my family again. I’ll never be free again.

I drag my feet, but Cameron’s firm grip on my arm forces me to move. By the time he drags me to the open side of the cage, I’m having a full-blown panic attack and gasping for air, of which there suddenly seems to be too little in the room.

“Please, no! Don’t, please, I don’t want this, don’t do this, please!” I scream and cry, hit and scratch, but my movements are slower and weaker than usual.

To his credit, Cameron never loses patience. One slap from him would likely send me to the floor, yet he never hits me back, not even when I get lucky and knee his balls. It’s not a hard hit but he still grunts and doubles over. Still, he doesn’t let go of me.

My panic only grows because I’m sure that now he’s going to hurt me. The overwhelming terror turns me into a wild animal that only has escape on its mind.

Actually, no. There’s another thought there.

I'm going to die here.

Chapter 7

Cameron

For such a wispy little thing, Justin is surprisingly strong, even with the drugs still weakening him. I’ll have to keep that in mind in the future. Right now, however, I have to figure out what to do about his panic attack. Bending him to my will when he’s scared is fun, but him being mindless from terror is inconvenient.

Right now, he’s not listening. Any threat I’d issue would fall on ears deafened by panic. This is why I usually have pets wake up in the cage. That way, they’re safe and contained during their initial freakout. Wanting to have my mouth on Justin when he woke up, I got a little carried away. I got a knee in the balls for it, which is fair. Justin has every right to be freaking out right now. I should have known better.

Now I’m faced with a dilemma. Either I force him in the cage and let him tire himself out, or I help him calm down. Somehow. I’ve never actually done that before, but didn’t I tell myself I need to start doing things differently?

Maybe helping Justin through this instead of leaving him to deal with the overwhelming emotions alone will protect him from breaking the way all the others did. Also, I’m loath to let go of him, even if all the struggling and screaming are getting annoying. That’s the life of a pet owner, though. You gotta love them even when they aren’t being sweet and obedient.

I sit down on the floor, dragging the flailing Justin along. Once he’s squirming on my lap—which I’m not protesting at all—I pin his arms to his sides and wrap my legs around his to stop him from kicking and pushing himself off the floor.

My free hand cuts off the stream of “Please, no, please, don’t do this, stop.” As much as I want to hear him beg, I want him to mean it, not blubber nonsensical words because he’s too terrified to put a sentence together.

“Quiet.”

I keep my voice firm but not threatening. I meant it when I said he was safe. Justin may not believe it yet, but in time, he’ll understand. He’s mine, and I protect what’s mine.

Justin freezes, every muscle in his body rigid. He stops struggling but doesn’t calm down. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s breathing through his nose so fast that his breaths are almost in time with his racing heart.

Not wanting him to hyperventilate, I pinch his nose shut. He whimpers and squirms as he tries to dislodge me, but I only hold him tighter.

“Shh. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe.” As I mumble a steady string of reassurances, Justin’s body slowly loses its tension. He’s either calming down or about to pass out from lack of air.

“You’ll take deep breaths,” I tell him before letting go of his mouth and nose. “I don’t want to hear any gasps. Focus on that. Good. Deep, slow breaths.” The moment I hear his breathing speed up again, I cover his mouth and nose once more, adding a stern, “No. Slow breaths. I know it’s hard, but I won’t have you passing out on me. Not from hyperventilation, anyway.” Passing out from exhaustion after too many orgasms sounds like a much better option.

With me controlling Justin’s breathing, the worst of his panic slowly subsides. He’s still sobbing quietly and tears stream down his cheeks, but he’s relaxed in my arms, resting his head against my shoulder, and his breathing is steady.