Page 6 of Violent Love: Viktor (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #5)

Natalya

Tears of rage and self-loathing hit the floor, dark spots on cold tile, as I stared at his polished shoes and black trousers. Then his hand came down and patted me on the head.

Like a fucking dog.

But I didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

My body was hollow. My limbs trembled like they no longer belonged to me. Hunger gnawed at me distantly, but it was nothing compared to the bone-deep terror still echoing in my chest.

I’d seen what they did to Petrov.

The images hadn’t left me—not when I vomited, not when I passed out, not even now. I could still hear the soft, wet squelch of his skin being peeled from his face. The metallic scent of blood clung to my nostrils, thick and endless. I’d smelled it even in sleep.

There was no defying a man like Viktor.

He didn’t need to hit me or even shout. He simply showed me who he was.

A fucking monster.

“Good, bitch,”

Viktor said, voice tinged with amusement.

I flinched.

But somehow, it was better than the voice he used in the operating room—cold, surgical, inhuman. He was enjoying this—my fear, my surrender, just like he’d enjoyed mutilating a man piece by piece, like it was performance art.

Something dropped beside his feet. My blurred vision took a moment to make sense of it. Then I saw the long, dark leash coiled against the floor.

I looked up at him slowly—dread blooming in my chest. The urge to beg swelled in my throat, but I knew better.

Begging had only made him rougher before.

He dangled the dark brown leather collar from his fingers. Small golden flowers dotted the collar, and a round, polished gold tag was at its centre.

One word engraved in elegant script: Suka.

I froze.

He crouched beside me. My body screamed to recoil, but I stayed still. Not from obedience—just… pure shock.

He slid the collar around my neck, slipping it beneath my wet hair, his fingers grazing the nape of my neck like he had a right to touch me. The leather was soft, cool against my clammy skin. His hand brushed against the snake tattoo coiled over his own, the eyes seeming to watch me even as he buckled it tight.

I couldn’t breathe.

Then his fingers lifted my chin.

“Feel that, Suka?”

he murmured, voice low and final. “That’s your last breath as a free woman. This is your new life now.”

His eyes were nearly black. Bottomless. And I saw it there—the promise. He would strip every shred of humanity from me. Piece by piece. Until nothing was left.

A sob caught in my throat. “Please—”

The word came out strangled, breaking into a choked whimper as my eyes squeezed shut. I didn’t want him to see. Not my weakness. Not my tears.

But he did see.

And he liked it.

I saw it in the glimmer of cruel satisfaction on his face just before my eyes closed.

He stood. The leash tugged—the collar bit into my neck.

I scrambled forward, compelled by pain and pressure. I didn’t look around. Didn’t lift my head. I crawled behind him, shame painting my cheeks in searing heat.

He opened a door.

Another cell.

But this one…it was different. There was a barred window. A bed. No rotting stench—just faint bleach and silence.

“Is my pet hungry?”

he asked, yanking the leash until I stumbled forward.

He sat on the bed, pulling me toward him like an obedient animal.

“Yes,”

I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

I don’t know how long it had been since I’d eaten. Hunger had become a dull, empty ache—like everything else.

“Is that how you address your Master?”

“Sorry, Master,”

I said automatically, voice flat. Broken.

He picked up a brush. “Turn around. Kneel.”

I obeyed. The bristles dragged gently through my wet hair, down my back. The touch wasn’t painful.

Which meant I didn’t trust it.

“My bitch has such pretty hair,”

he said, lifting the heavy strands and letting them fall. “Bark for me.”

I froze.

“B-bark?”

I whispered.

His hand closed around my throat.

So I did.

“Woof…woof. Woof.”

He chuckled. His hand slid down to my breast and cupped it. “Again.”

“Woof…”

I barked again, voice trembling.

Then pain. Sharp and white-hot. He pinched my nipple hard.

“Argh!” I yelped.

“Bark,”

he snapped, twisting harder.

I kept barking—nonsensical, humiliating—until he finally let go. I was sobbing now, my body shaking. He gently rubbed the aching nipple, like he was comforting me.

But it wasn’t comfort. It was cruel.

His other hand joined in. Both palms massaging, tugging, teasing my breasts until—

Until my body backstabbed me.

I could feel my nipples harden under his touch. My skin responded to the warmth, the rhythm.

And he noticed.

Of course he did.

His hands turned rough again, squeezing both breasts brutally. I whimpered, gasped—but he wanted the reaction. Needed it.

“Do you want more?”

he asked, voice low and thick with heat.

I hesitated. Just a breath. Just long enough for my heart to skip.

Then I swallowed.

Because there was only one answer.

“Yes, Master,”

I whispered—too afraid to lie.

I heard the slow rasp of his zipper. My stomach dropped.

He stood.

“Lean back. Rest your head on the bed.”

I hesitated. Then obeyed.

My head rested against the mattress. My eyes stared up at him.

He unbuckled his belt.

“Your first meal will be your Master’s cum,”

he said as he unbuttoned his trousers. “You’ll hold every drop in your mouth like a good bitch.”

I stared at his face. Scarred, burned, unreadable.

A monster smiling beneath a beard of ash.

“Yes, Mast—”

I started.

Then I saw it.

His cock—thick, veined, terrifying. The head flushed and wide, the base rooted in coarse, dark hair.

“I-I’m not sure…it’s too big—”

“A good pet needs to be trained,”

he murmured, tapping the tip against my lips. “Open up, Suka. Training starts now.”

I breathed deeply. I opened my mouth.

He shoved inside.

“Eyes on me while I feed you,”

he growled, dragging his cock against my tongue.

The belt clinked. He moved closer. I looked up—horrified. Disgusted. But I didn’t look away.

And neither did he.

His eyes drank in the moment. My obedience. My degradation.

There was no remorse in him.

Only satisfaction.

Only power.

Only him.

The man who called himself my Master.