His tongue flicked over my hand, tickling my palm before his lips latched over my fingers, his cock rising as he sucked. His eagerness called to me, my mind racing with all I wanted to do to him. I could put him on a leash, see how hard his cock would get as I led him around.
“He’s excellent with his mouth, so feel free to have him service you as you please.” Brianna’s voice echoed through my reverie. Her mouth curved as she watched, the movement nothing but a flash in the stone.
Curiosity taunted, another kink that would be left unsatisfied. I had made a promise to Arlo, and a domme had to be true to her promises and threats or the game was lost. I straightened, wiping my hand on my corset. “Where’s his owner?”
“Mistress Anastasia is out of town on business.” She reached down when PK whimpered, caressing his ear. “He doesn’t do well by himself.”
“Most puppies don’t.”
She beckoned for me to follow her, PK at heel beside her. “When you come at six he’ll need to be fed before bath time, quiet time then bed time.” He sat at her feet when she stopped in the kitchen, licking her hand when she pointed down at a food and water bowl on the floor. “Food is pre-made and in the fridge.”
“What’s quiet time?”
“Quiet time is usually spent in the living room. You can relax and read, watch TV, whatever you feel like doing. He’s to remain attentive and obedient. If he’s having trouble with that, there are bigger butt plugs upstairs.”
His cock hardened further, hinting at the game.
“Is he disobedient often?”
Brianna paused, the curve pulling at her lips. “Disobedience is often a cry for attention.”
“Isn’t that considered topping from the bottom?”
She reached down, running her hand through his hair, his mouth trying to trap her fingers. “Power struggles are draining battles. Winning the war is far more important.” She snapped her fingers, PK immediately coming to heel beside her as she made her way up the stairs.
I strolled a few steps behind, taking in the framed photos lining the wall. Football wasn’t a sport I followed, but I imagined the fans packing the stands would be horrified to discover number 91 spent his time at home as a dog.
“Bath is in here.” She pushed open a door as she walked by, continuing towards the bedroom. “If he starts trying to hump your leg, his cock cage is in nightstand.” She pointed towards a drawer, then gestured to the corner of the room. “He sleeps in his crate at night over there. Bedtime is nine.”
Jealousy laced with sadness cut into my chest as I scanned the room, eyeing all I would never have. I wandered towards the cage, running my fingers over the metal bars, wishing I could convince Arlo to give up the battle. I would take care of him. Keep him forever at my feet, the only place he seemed free from the demons in his head, and every night he could sleep safely in his cage by my bed. No more worrying. No more disappearing into the night. No more Siren.
***
Arlo
***
“Sam Zone 2. Stoney Zone 3. Trei Zone 9. Siren Zone 11,” the voices of the Eyes and Ears trickled through my earpiece. My hands tightened around my gun, my back inches from the wall as I crept through the dark warehouse. I scanned my surroundings, my night vision glasses distorting the stacks of pallets into a grey haze. A memory taunted, so clear I could almost see her running through the rows, fueling my rage and repressing any remorse.
“Sam Zone 3. Zane Zone 5. Grizzly Zone 9. Trei Zone 10.”
The zone transitions were quick, the goddess guiding us through when the gods of time had granted us none. I inched forward towards the next corner, listening for any warnings, but the traitors were getting smarter. They were learning to move in the darkness we created, going silent the moment they realized we had arrived.
“Zane Zone 6. Grizzly Zone 10. Siren Zone 12.”
Siren was already fully infiltrated, Trei close behind. I pressed my back into the wall, peering around the corner, the sight of the huge wooden boxes stealing the breath from my lungs. My vision blurred, the memory suffocating me as I stepped towards them. They seemed to glow in the haze, the light wood distorting until it dissipated into the black surrounding it.
“Sam Zone 4. Zane zone 7. Arlo Zone 8.”
Pain ripped through my back, the traitor’s fist flying into my mouth when I spun around. His hands wrapped around my neck, cutting off my air. I aimed for his throat, realizing he was strong but not one of their fighters. A grunt fired from his lips when my fist connected. He crashed to the floor, grabbing the barrel of my gun, trying to shove it away when I aimed for his face.
“Please…” he begged through cracked lips. “Please…”
I tore my gaze away from his plea, looking at the huge boxes surrounding me, some stacked three and four high. The pulse throbbed in my temples, red rage bleeding into the grey haze, reminding me of all I was and all I fought for. I was a Warrior, and nothing would stop me from clearing the path. I stepped forward, meeting the traitor’s stare before pulling the trigger.
***
Gemma
***
Arlo spun the spaghetti around his fork, stuffing it in his mouth before smiling a swollen-lipped grin at me. He had already proven he was a skilled liar, so his apparent adoration of the food I had made him was meaningless. I was well aware I was a terrible cook, but I was also too well adjusted to the taste of my attempts to notice. “What happened to your lip?”
His fingers touched against the wound, his eyes moving to his plate. “Hazards of the workplace.”
“Did she do that to you because you told me?”
His eyes narrowed as he tensed. “She’s not that way.”
“Then what way is she?”
“You may as well ask me what the bottom of the ocean is like, or the cosmos.”
“Is she human?”
“That’s for philosophers to decide.”
I twisted my fork in the pasta, pausing before raising it to my lips. “Just like you’re trying to understand what it means that I’m a domme, I’m trying to understand what it means that you’re a Warrior.”
“It means I know a hundred ways to kill a man, and if anyone ever hurts you, I’ll let you pick.”
The words shivered over my skin, confusing me when the cold dissolved into heat, the thought of his protection a twisted aphrodisiac. I hunted his wounded skin, trying to silence the arousal he always seemed to stir within me. “I have to leave after dinner and won’t be home until around nine thirty.”
“Domme duties?”
“I’m puppy sitting for a friend.”
He smiled, reaching for the grated parmesan. “I love dogs. Are you bringing it home?”
“She has another friend staying at her house while she’s gone, so I’m just going for a few hours twice a week to help out.”
“What kind of dog is it?”
My fingers wrapped around the stem of my wine glass as I contemplated my response. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, what does it look like?”
I pressed my lips together, glancing around the kitchen. “It’s… white. Not much hair.”
He glanced up from his plate, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth when I avoided his gaze. “Please tell me we’re talking about an actual puppy.”
My lips sealed again, the image of PK thundering down the stairs on all fours rocking through my head.
He stared at me from across the table, his fingers pressing into his temples. “How is a man pretending to be a dog a turn on?”
“You either get it or you don’t. If it isn’t your kink, it isn’t your kink.”
“Is it your kink?”
“I can see the beauty and eroticism of it if that’s what you’re asking.”
He pressed his face into his hands, a quiet groan seeping through his fingers. The domme within me braced for battle but Brianna’s words rolled through my head, silencing my own. His fingers pressed into his forehead, his elbows pushing into the table, another deep breath falling from his lips. “I get it.”
My mouth closed as quickly as it had opened, the words I was prepared to fight back with dissolved by his unexpected admission.
“I don’t get what you find beautiful about it, but I get what he… the dog… puppy… whatever… gets out of it. It must be nice to just… exist.” He rubbed his hands over his head before letting them fall to the table, his eyes hunting his plate. “I’m turned loose and trusted. She doesn’t give orders. She doesn’t command. Not enough time for split second decisions, decisions I have to make on my own that can destroy all of us if they’re wrong.”
I stared silently, terrified any breath would stop the thoughts falling freely from his lips.
“I can handle it underground. I’m a different person there than I am here. Here, I just want to exist.” He shook his head, sighing. “Exist like a dog but not like a dog. I don’t know how to explain it.”
I froze when he crumbled from his chair to the floor, crawling towards me and wrapping his arms around my legs, his tears cold against my thigh. I ran my fingers up the back of his neck as he nuzzled into my skin, his tension only lessening when I caressed through his hair. His walls had fallen more quickly and completely than I was prepared for, leaving me terrified I wasn’t ready to manage the soul he was entrusting me with.
***
I wrapped my hands through the bars of the cage, staring down at PK. He wiggled, his tail wagging when he looked up at me, his tongue flicking over my fingers. He seemed enormous, his muscles tensing when he circled his bed before collapsing into a ball in the middle. I imagined the puppy quickly transformed into a wolf when his owner was threatened, a wolf strong enough to shatter bone. His hand grasped the blanket, a flash of his human side showing itself as he pulled it over his naked body. I tore myself away, allowing him peace to sleep as I wandered into the master bedroom closet.
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