Page 23 of Milk & Malice: Vadik (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #6)

Vadik

After seeing Lena choke, gag, and drool around the plastic dick, I ordered a whole selection of mouth gags. I may have gone overboard, but my pretty cow looked so good gagged. Five days of no sex were driving me crazy. I almost went into work to relieve some of the tension.

Blood, guts, and bones would’ve taken my mind off Lena’s sweet holes.

She had thirty minutes left, and it was her final day. I sat tapping my desk, watching her on my laptop feed.

A message pinged on my phone, and I absently opened the drawer.

I rolled my eyes. It was the Pakhan.

Pakhan: It’s been almost five months. How much longer are you going to fuck her for?

I glared at the screen. Says the criminal mastermind who sent Viktor to meetings so he could fuck his pet.

I tossed the phone back into the drawer.

Twenty-seven minutes left.

Five years of monk-like control, and now I couldn’t wait five days.

I shook off the disgust and considered whether it was time to go back to work. I could use the mouth gag at work.

Hmm. The gag could have broken glass glued onto the dick.

The thought made my hand twitch as I imagined how the shards would slice up the throat.

I missed the butchery. The mayhem.

Viktor hardly knew first aid, let alone how to properly stitch someone up after removing a bullet.

With a sigh, I reached for the phone, glancing at Lena to figure out how long I’d need to settle her into a new routine.

One without me.

***

I decided to check on Stumpy before removing Lena’s five-hour torture gag. The rug had been moved, trapdoor open, light already switched on as I descended the stairs. I’d chosen this property with care. No one would ever attack my home again.

My heart sang at the sound of his gurgling.

Still alive. Clinging to life as if he had a chance of ever living it beyond this ancient cellar. When I reached him, his eyes were closed. I slapped him—vicious, sharp. It roused him.

Bleary, bloodshot eyes. A filthy face coated in despair.

I’d spent years on him. Slicing his limbs off bit by bit. Cauterising, healing, repeating. I gave him hope by leaving his cock and balls intact—for a while. That ended once there was nothing left but a torso and a head.

“You almost got to smell fresh air again, Yuri,”

I murmured, cracking my neck to keep the fury from boiling over.

The stench was vile. His bags would need changing. But I had no plans to bathe him. He deserved to stew in his own filth.

His eyes begged me to end it.

That desolate misery always made me smile.

“Keep breathing, Yuri. Mikhail didn’t last, but you ordered my death. Aren’t I lucky my Pakhan hated your guts?”

I chuckled as his eyes flared. I ignored him and hung the food on the metal hook.

Hummed while keeping this sewer rat alive another day.

Already, my mind was drifting—wild with anticipation—at the thought of returning to the barn.

***

She looked disgusting.

Drool crusted the edges of her mouth. A thick stream of spit clung to the base of the plastic cock gag, trailing down her chin, pooling beneath her cheek like a filthy halo. Her cheeks were red, eyes glassy, breath ragged through her nose.

Beautiful.

I crouched beside her, slow, and deliberate. I slid the key from my pocket. She flinched when I touched the lock. Not from fear—she was far past that—but from the raw strain in her jaw. Poor little animal. Her body was made to be used, not silenced.

I turned the key. The click echoed. Then I unbuckled the strap, peeled the gag free, and let it fall to the floor with a slick smack. Her mouth stayed open, trembling, jaw trembling as she panted.

“Mouth open,”

I ordered.

She obeyed.

I dipped a clean cloth into the warm bowl I’d brought. Not for her comfort—never that. Just practicality. I couldn’t enjoy her with her face caked in filth.

The wet fabric dragged along her chin, across her cheeks. I wiped the spit and sweat from the corners of her lips.

“You’re such a mess,”

I murmured.

“What kind of creature ends up drooling over plastic cock like it’s a gift from God?”

She whimpered. I tilted her face with my gloved fingers, scrubbing gently beneath her eyes. Her lashes fluttered.

“My filthy little fucktoy.”

I rinsed the cloth, wrung it out, and traced it over her lips again.

“I bet you’ve been counting the days until I mounted you again.”

I leaned in, voice a breath against her ear.

“Next time you won’t be a stupid little cow who forgets to moo while taking your owner’s cock.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her nostrils flared. She didn’t speak.

Smart girl.

I folded the cloth and tossed it into the bowl, then stood. My belt unbuckled in one fluid motion.

“Use your mouth and get my dick wet. I want it nice and sloppy, ready for your breeding hole.”

I wiped her clean because it should only be my cock that gets her dirty—not some shitty piece of plastic.