Page 22 of Violent Love: Viktor (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #5)

Natalya

Almost every morning when I woke up, I’d rolled across the bed to my Master’s side. I knew it bothered him—he’d started sleeping on his side, facing away from me.

The house was at least twenty times bigger than my dad’s apartment, but I only ever went into the rooms Master took me to. They felt comfortable and safe.

Or maybe it was just because Master was there.

He kept the eye mask off, but dressed me in all kinds of dog outfits. I didn’t care what he put on me. If he was happy, I was happy.

My needs felt far away. Like they didn’t belong to me anymore. Just a distant ebb I crushed down and buried in the darkest corner of my mind.

My Master inflicting pain was my new pleasure.

***

The cigarette was burning as Master stared at the screen. I knelt beside him, hoping he would finish his work soon. The snake tattoo that once terrified me had become a thing of beauty. His tattooed fingers danced across the keyboard before he paused to take a drag. I watched him blow the smoke out in a slow puff.

I glanced at the time, but it was still hours until dinner. Hours before I’d get to suck my Master’s cock.

I shuffled closer and clung to his leg, resting my head against him.

“What’s gotten into you? It isn’t time to eat yet.”

I barked but didn’t let go.

A deep, low chuckle filled the room.

“Does my Suka want to play?”

he teased.

I lifted my head and looked up at him through the mask. Then barked again.

He tapped my head, and I looked up to see an A4 notepad in his hand.

“In the meantime, write I love my Master’s cock as many times as you can until I’m finished,”

he said, handing me the paper and a blue ballpoint pen.

I took them both, my gaze lingering on the black serpent before I got to work.

***

“Bend over my desk, Suka,”

he said, taking my pad from me.

I stood up to see that he had cleared his desk. He was flicking through the pages I’d written while I squeezed in between his legs to lie on his desk. A drawer opened and I heard him put the pad in before rummaging around.

When he put something on the desk, I glanced around to see a small white tube. He stood up and I heard the belt buckle then the zip. I was already anticipating his cock in my ass.

“You couldn't even wait until dinner time,”

he murmured, flicking the cap open.

I felt the cold, wet liquid on my ass. It slowly dripped down, and I rested my cheek on the desk.

The cap clicked. I braced myself for the burn.

***

That night was magical. After dinner, Master put on a movie. I sat on the floor beside his feet. I’d always felt alone. But having Master close chased it all away.

My silence wasn’t a chore—it was a blessing.

No more small talk.

No more shift rota arguments.

No more horrid customers.

And best of all, I would never have to see my father’s face again.

I woke up in his arms.

He was carrying me upstairs.

I pretended to sleep.

Just to be in his arms a little longer.

***

One morning, I woke to his hand already between my thighs. He was lying beside me. I whimpered and instinctively spread my legs for him.

“My hot little bitch. I know what you want. You want me inside your cunt,”

he said, teasing his fingers along my opening.

His fingers teased my folds but didn’t slip in. Just enough pressure to make my legs tremble. I panted into the pillow. The mask made it harder to breathe.

“I can smell how wet you are. You desperate little bitch.”

He rubbed slower. Softer. Just enough to make me feel insane.

I dug my nails into the bedsheet.

“W–Woo-f,”

I stammered, terrified in case I spoke. In case I begged.

He brushed the edge of my clit but never touched it.

Just circled. Featherlight. Maddening.

I closed my eyes and panted heavily through the mask’s snout.

“Imagine my fat cock in here. With these lips hugging it as I fuck you,”

he said, sliding two fingers between my seams.

A sob broke out. I reached to hold his wrist.

“Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof,”

I cried, forcing myself not to lift my hips. Not to chase his touch.

“I wonder what you’d give just to be finger-fucked.”

Anything.

He spent minutes grazing the rim of my hole. Up and down. Just enough to keep my nerves screaming.

“Poor little cunt,”

he whispered. “Always aching. Always needy. But never filled.” His chuckle was evil. Delighted.

My clit throbbed. Untouched.

My hips wouldn’t stay still.

I gasped into the pillow and bit down hard. My hands fisted the sheets.

“What would you give to cum on my cock, Suka? You may speak.”

I stared at him.

Speak?

My mind raced. But before I could form a thought, the words slipped out.

“Anything, Master.”

A cracked, broken vow.

But it came from my lips.