Page 15 of Violent Love: Viktor (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #5)

Viktor

Her fingers crept between her thighs beneath the blanket—sly and trembling. The dark grey fabric shifted like waves, betraying her. She was quiet, careful, but not clever enough. I saw it all.

I lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, the tip flaring as I inhaled. She’d earned this starvation. She didn’t know it yet.

The snout lay beside her pillow like a shed skin. My obedient pet, peeling away the last of her resistance in secret. So she thought.

She believed I wasn’t watching.

She thought her shame was hers to manage.

She forgot that even in silence, she belonged to me.

Her cock worship had become instinct—eager, efficient. The way she cradled my balls now, not out of fear, but with reverence. She sucked with purpose. Fucked her throat like it was routine. No hesitation. No questions. She’d already begun to forget the feel of a meal without cum first coating her tongue.

That was progress.

But today, I took it all away. Not to be cruel—never for cruelty’s sake. I deprived her because she needed it. She needed to learn what hunger meant without me, what loneliness felt like when she broke my trust, and what it cost to pleasure herself like a free woman.

Her body was mine. Her pleasure was mine.

Her need, her hunger, her every twitching ache in the night—mine.

She hadn’t cried yet. Not real tears. Not the kind that meant anything. But they would come. Hunger would claw through her soon enough, and with it, guilt. And shame. The kind that rewires a brain.

No cock.

No food.

No contact.

Just silence and the knowledge that she failed me.

That my good little pet…tried to steal.

***

I watched her for two days. The first day, she cried.

The second, she crawled like a restless cat, glancing from the door to the camera, pacing in circles, curling beside the hatch.

I watched it all—every single second.

The snout never came off now, not even when she slept. Her fingers toyed with her collar like prayer beads. By nightfall, she was barking. Crying and begging for me. Gone was the maid I first met.

Now she was my fucking bitch.

***

The metal latch yielded with a click. I shoved my sweatpants down beneath my balls as her fingertips crept up to the base of the opening, trembling like she knew what was coming.

“I’m sorry, Master,”

she whispered, voice cracked and raw from crying.

I didn’t move.

The silence dragged. She tried to peer through the hatch, breath misting the metal. The Pakhan had known precisely what he was doing when he reminded me of the basement setup. For him, cruelty was an art form. I lived for sadistic control.

Then she barked.

Short, sharp, pathetic little yaps.

Then it got louder, frantic, like her whole body was in it until her barks turned into cries.

I slid my cock through the gap and smirked.

She whimpered at the sight of it. Her hands cupped the base like a worshipper at a shrine, then her lips met the tip with a needy moan. She licked it everywhere—up the shaft, over the head, under the balls. When she leaned in and dragged her tongue through my pubic hair, I hissed.

My desperate filthy whore.

She mouthed every inch like she was starving, and this was the only meal she’d ever known. Her mouth opened wider, and she took me in—wet, clumsy, desperate.

She gagged almost immediately. Didn’t pull back. She took it again. And again. Until she worked past her reflex. That was when she started fucking herself on my cock. I pressed myself against the door, giving her what she craved.

I could hear the choking, the strained breathing as her throat clenched around me. Her saliva dripping down my balls, soaking me.

Her lips met my balls and she held me there, deep in her neck with her hole pulsing around me. Her throat convulsed. She whimpered through the blockage but kept going. Kept licking my balls while she let herself choke on my cock. Guttural sounds, wet and obscene.

My balls tightened, until my cock throbbed with warning—and then she held me even tighter, like she wanted it. With a grunt, I came down her throat. Hot spurts, thick and brutal. Her hole swallowed every drop of my cum.

She stayed there, face pressed to the hatch, gagging softly, breathing through her nose.

Only when the last drop emptied did she pull back, gasping and panting as she cradled my cock and ran her tongue over it again. She cleaned me like it was sacred.

All that just for a few slices of an apple.

I grinned.

***

I gradually increased her food. It took another three days of watching her carefully through the camera's lens. As soon as she heard my footsteps, she would crawl to the door, snout off and in a begging pose—her hands held up beside her breasts like paws.

She was fully immersed in her role as my suka.

It was time to start the training upstairs.