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15

Oliver

The days passed in a blur. Most nights, I slept sandwiched between Hayes and Hudson on one of their huge beds. If I were mad at them, I’d sleep on the dog bed they’d brought up from the basement cell. Somehow, it seemed that was more of a punishment for them than for me—it was actually pretty comfy.

Most mornings I was fucked awake. Actually, no. It was all mornings.

After sex, we’d typically all shower together. I was doted upon by the siblings, like I was actually someone who deserved to be cared for.

It made me feel strange. Honestly, though, everything they did made me feel strange.

I had started looking forward to being dressed for the day. Being dressed—not getting dressed—involved me sitting on the ottoman inside the closet they’d deemed as mine, and them insisting that I was incapable of making decisions and putting on the clothes by myself. I had various outfits—most were nothing more than just shorts—that the brothers chose for me to wear. I was learning that Hudson apparently had a thing for socks. Seriously—thigh highs, crew-length, socks with toe beans on the soles. At least my feet were never cold.

I always wore the same collar—the one with their names engraved on the tag—but they liked to rotate between different ears, tails, mitts, and gags.

The gear… it made me feel safe, secure.

I hated that I liked it.

I hated that they could tell I liked it, even when I acted like I hated it.

I hated that they seemed to know me better than I knew myself.

I hated that sometimes I went into what the twins called subspace and felt high and floaty and oh so fucking good.

I hated that I had started to do things specifically to hear their praises.

I hated that my mind kept downplaying the fact that they had literally kidnapped me, assaulted me, tortured and killed a man in front of me, and were currently holding me captive.

I hated that I loved being fucked by them.

I hated how my heart ached when they pet me.

But most of all, I hated myself. So, nothing new, I guess.

I spent the majority of the day in my puppy gear, except for when they removed my gag for meals. To the best of my knowledge, I hadn’t been left alone in the house yet. There was always at least one twin by my side. I wasn’t sure what that meant they were doing work-wise, but they thankfully hadn’t brought home another victim since that first day.

Speaking of work, I was informed on the third night that they were handling my shop. They wouldn’t elaborate any further.

They’d texted Josh from my phone, pretending to be me when he became concerned about my sudden absence.

Josh was the only one who’d reached out.

That really made me think.

It had been almost two weeks since Hayes and Hudson took over my life.

No one wondered where I’d gone. No one cared.

I started to understand why Lane had fallen so quickly for Greyson. We were the ideal prey.

While watching the news or listening to a true crime podcast, I always used to wonder, “How did no one notice that she was gone?” or “Why did no one report them missing?”

Hi. It’s me. I understand now.

I understood completely, and I just wanted to go home .

But what was there for me? An empty studio apartment; no pets and no loved ones. My home was those late nights doing homework at my grandmother’s side. My home had been six feet under for a while now. My home was built the night my parents threw me out like a piece of trash, and my home was demolished the day my grandmother died.

So, really, I had no home waiting for me; I had no one and nothing. No one needed me, or relied upon me, or loved me.

So, as much as I cried and begged and screamed for them to let me go, I didn’t actually have anywhere I wanted to go to. So, when day after day I reminded myself of this, and all I had to do was whimper to have one of the twins’ attention, I understood.

And I hated how damn tempting the thought of giving in was.

Predators will always go for wounded prey. My mistake was not realizing just how wounded I really was before they sank their teeth into my skin.

I thought I had my life together; a great job that paid the bills, an apartment I didn’t even have to pay rent on, a best friend, a safe transition, and an accepting community.

I told myself I was over my parents abandoning me; that it was just water under the bridge. I told myself that I had tough skin; the years upon years of threats, jeers, ugly comments, and bullying didn’t faze me. I told myself that it wasn’t scary—terrifying—to go through my transition practically alone. Sure, Lane did help me after my top surgery—and I’d always be thankful for that—but no one was there for all the appointments, for the first time I injected T, for the fears and tears and pain.

I didn’t have a mom who’d held my hand through it all, or a dad who had encouraged me to be strong and steadfast through the rough patches. I didn’t have a family.

I only had myself.

So, yeah, it was goddamn tempting to give in. To have two partners utterly devoted to you. Beautiful men who cooked you nutritious meals, washed you in the shower, and purred promises into your ears at night. Men that brushed your hair, administered your medication, and dicked you down to the lowest gate of Hell.

They were serpents in the Garden of Eden.

And I was beginning to think I was Eve.

* * *

“Paw,” Hayes said, holding his hand out and looking down at me expectantly with a cocked brow. I shifted on the pillow I was kneeling on, rocking side to side slightly, and huffed. Earlier in the day, Hayes had very grandly announced to Hudson and me that he was going to spend the day teaching me tricks.

Shortly after Hudson had left the house for a job, Hayes brought me into the main living room; a large jar of animal crackers accompanying him.

I was already used to sitting or kneeling at the twins’ feet, so I readily lowered myself to the floor. But when he spoke the command, I froze. It wasn’t out of fear or shock. It was self-reflection.

Was I going to submit to this humiliation?

And so, Hayes and I had sat staring at each other for fifteen minutes while he periodically threw out the command to see if I would respond to it.

“Paw,” he repeated once more, growing frustrated. “Do you not want the animal crackers?”

The staredown continued.

“Fuck, you’re being a brat today. Okay. You don’t want the treats? Stay there for a minute.” Hayes stood on an aggravated sigh, leaving me in the room alone. Now, if I didn’t have the stupid puppy mitts on—not to mention the rest of my get-up—I could have at least tried to run and open one of the doors leading out of the home. But, I did have the mitts on, and it was pointless in my eyes to even try tasks that required any dexterity.

I stood up, gritting my teeth at the feel of the tail plug shifting inside me, but before I could decide what to do or if I wanted to try anything, Hayes reentered the room.

“You don’t even know how to stay ?”

I flinched back, surprised at the anger laced into his words. When I went to cautiously lower myself back to the ground, he roughly grabbed my arm, making me fall over him as he sat back on the sofa. Fingers latched onto my hair, yanking my head back so that I was looking at his face. And suddenly, instead of the face of the caretaker, the lover, I was seeing the face of the killer.

I wasn’t sure how to placate him, given that my gag prevented me from speaking to him. I whimpered in fear; the muffled sound was pitiful. Hayes’s burning eyes cooled, and he smiled, loosening his grip on my hair.

He cooed, “Shhh, baby. You’re shaking. I’m sorry, did I scare you?” I nodded, wincing a little as he began to stroke my back. “Poor little thing. It’s okay. I just… I wanted this to go differently. It’s not your fault, it’s ours. We should’ve started training you from the beginning, but I think we got a bit sidetracked, to be honest. I mean, we have been training you, but loosely, and not with commands.”

I furrowed my brows at him. I was getting pretty good at non-verbal communication, in my opinion.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll say a command, you’ll follow it, then get a treat. Same as we were trying to do before, okay? But if you don’t follow my command, you get ten hits from this riding crop. Sound fair?” I stared back at him with wide eyes. I hadn’t noticed the crop. That must have been what he left to get.

He picked it up from where he’d laid it when he pulled me onto him. It looked menacing. Hayes lightly brushed the end of the crop up and down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I thought about how it might feel to have that expensive leather raining down on me.

The crop trailed up my chest, stopping just below my chin to lift my face towards its handler.

Hayes brought his face only an inch from my own, so close that the tips of our noses touched on a deep breath. I swallowed. The air between us became thick, charged with my reluctant curiosity and his need to dominate.

“Pet,” he whispered, the heat of his mouth radiating onto my face, “it’s time to play.”

I gasped as he wrapped his large hands around my waist, picking me up from his lap and placing me at his feet.

His predatory gaze swept over my body.

“Paw.”

I could do it. It’d be easy to simply lift my hand and place it in his.

I kept my hands on my thighs and looked up at him, defiant intent clear. He waited a few moments more before he gave a small nod and rose from the couch. I yelped as he forcefully picked me up and threw me onto the couch; my upper body curved over the top of the cushions and my ass facing Hayes.

“You’ve earned this,” he growled. My body tensed, unsure of when the hit would come.

Crack.

“Mmph!” Oh, shit . The first hit of the crop was delivered to my right butt cheek, the impact so intense that my body lurched forward instinctively to escape from the source of the pain.

Crack.

My eyes clenched shut as another muffled shout leaked out. Left cheek.

Crack. Crack.

I howled as two smacks came back to back, hitting the sensitive creases between my ass and thigh.

Crack.

My right cheek again.

Crack.

I hardly noticed that tears had begun streaming down my face. My chest heaved as I desperately tried to inhale oxygen.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

I collapsed against the back of the couch, sobbing. My brain felt like strawberry jelly. It took me a few seconds to process Hayes gathering up my crumpled form in his arms and holding me. I felt so tingly.

Hayes stroked my hair as he simultaneously undid my gag, letting it fall away.

“Mm,” he hummed, “I wish I could keep you in this headspace all the time. I’d keep your head permanently empty.” He hugged me tighter, flicking his pink tongue out to collect the tears on my cheeks. “There, there. Let’s get a cock in you, hm? You deserve it for being so good for me. Such a good pup.”

Hayes’s hand slid down the back of my head to my neck, continuing downwards as his fingers traced the length of my spine. A weak moan trickled out from behind my spit-slick lips as Hayes tugged on my tail plug. The corner of his mouth turned upward in a pleased smirk. As he played with the plug, pulling it out slightly before pushing it back in, his other hand swiftly freed his swollen, glistening cock from the confines of his pants.

Without a word, he quickly pulled the plug entirely out of my ass, entering me in one thrust. Even with my inner walls being coated with their cum from our morning fuck, and nicely stretched from the plug, my ass protested at the sudden intrusion.

“O-oh my g-god,” I choked out, head falling forward to rest on Hayes’s shoulder.

“Don’t cry out for your god, pet. Scream for your devil.”