Her Human Pet (The Kennel #1)

Chapter 1 The Collateral Was Him

The flatbed idled in my driveway before I finished my coffee. Diesel ticked against the siding. I grabbed my keys for the truck and walked out in work boots and yesterday's shirt.

The foreman held papers, not a tow hook. He flipped a page and read a number aloud. One ninety-four pounds. My weight.

"What the fuck is that."

"Collateral per clause seven," he said. "Not the vehicle. You."

Cold poured through my gut. The loan I'd signed to keep the crew paid had a line I'd skimmed past at two in the morning. Personal chattel. Live body. Recoverable asset.

Two more men got out of the cab. Black suits. Quiet shoes. One carried a case like a vet's kit.

"I'm Ethan Contracting. Call my lawyer."

"Your counsel was copied on default notice fourteen days ago," the foreman said. "Madame Corvi holds the note. We're here to take possession."

I lunged for the porch door. A hand caught my wrist and bent it behind my back until my shoulder burned. My phone skittered from my pocket. The foreman stepped on it. Plastic cracked under his boot.

Wallet next. License with my face. Gone.

"Strip the name off him," someone behind me said.

They cut my shirt at the collar. Cold air hit my chest. My belt came loose. Jeans pooled at my ankles. I kicked. A knee drove into the back of my thigh and I went down on the concrete, bare ass, cock tucked against grit.

Humiliation hit before I could brace for it. My dick stirred anyway. Blood rushed into it while three strangers watched from my own driveway.

Contractor. Thirty-three. Built job sites. Not this.

The case clicked open. Leather inside. Wide. Studded.

"This goes on now," the foreman said.

The collar locked at my throat with a sound like a gun cocking. Metal warmed fast against my skin. A leash clip dangled heavy under my chin.

Madame Corvi's car pulled in silent behind the flatbed. Black. She stepped out in heels and a grey coat, hair pinned, mouth set like she was inspecting lumber.

She didn't look at my face first. She looked at the tag slot on the collar.

"Ethan," she said, like she was reading a label on bad stock. "Default. Day one of ninety. Eighty-nine days to reclaim the debt in full or you transfer permanent."

"Reclaim what. I can sell equipment."

"You are the equipment." She crouched. Her perfume cut through diesel. Fingers traced the collar edge and my pulse jumped under her touch. "You signed as collateral. The truck was never on the lien."

Rage flashed white. Then her thumb pressed my Adam's apple and my cock twitched hard against the driveway.

She stood. "Load him."

They hauled me up. No jeans. Hands zip-tied behind me. She clipped the leash and walked me to the flatbed like I weighed nothing.

The metal floor was hot from sun. They chained my collar to a ring bolted in the bed. The engine roared. Wind stripped heat off my skin. My balls pulled tight. Neighbors could've been watching from behind blinds. I shouted once. Nobody came.

Dread sat in my teeth the whole ride. Every mile put my name further behind me.

The estate gate ground open. Stone walls. No address I'd ever seen on a map. The truck stopped at a side wing that smelled like bleach and wet dog hair.

"Kennel intake," Madame Corvi said from the cab door. "Temperature regulated. You will be comfortable enough to train."

They unchained me and marched me inside. The air hit warm and thick. Fans hummed low. Somewhere a man coughed behind a door. Tiles under my bare feet had been heated.

A row of cages lined one wall. Empty except one with a brass hook and a faded collar hanging like a trophy.

"Clinic first," she said.

A grooming table waited under a bright lamp. Straps at the corners. She pointed. I climbed up because the foreman's hand was still on my leash and my knees shook from the ride.

Leather cuffs locked my wrists to the table edge. Ankle straps spread my legs until my asshole showed in the cold light.

"Inventory," she told the foreman. "Record everything."

He named numbers. Height. Weight. Cock length soft. Then her gloved hand wrapped my shaft and pulled it straight and I hardened in her fist like a traitor.

"Six and a half erect," he said, voice flat.

She didn't let go. She stroked once. Twice. Pre-cum beaded at the tip.

"Still responsive. Good."

My ears went hot. I couldn't stop thrusting into her glove.

"Stop," I gritted.

"You will do exactly as I say." Her grip tightened. Nails bit the base. "Or day ninety ends with your collar on that wall and a new name on the tag."

The foreman swabbed my hip. Alcohol cold. A gun-shaped device pressed skin.

"Microchip. Permanent ID."

The punch was sharp. A chip the size of a grain of rice under my flesh. Boon before I'd agreed to be Boon.

She opened a drawer. A silver wand buzzed when she thumbed it on. She held it to my inner thigh without warning.

The vibration climbed my leg and slammed into my balls. I jerked against the straps. The table creaked.

"First lesson. This body answers me."

She dragged the wand up my shaft. Buzz filled my skull. My hole clenched for no reason. She circled my cockhead with the tip and laughter I didn't recognize tore out of me.

"Please."

"Please what."

"Stop."

"Wrong." She set the wand on my taint and pressed. My ass lifted off the table. "Beg correctly or I leave it there until you cum on the table like livestock."

The foreman clicked a pen. Waiting.

I swallowed bile. "Please let me cum."

"Whose property are you."

"Yours."

"Say the name you earn today."

My mouth went dry. "Boon."

She moved the wand to my cock and cranked pressure with her thumb on the base ring. Orgasm built violent and fast. I thrashed. The first climax broke over me. Cum striped the table and her glove. Spasm after spasm while the wand kept buzzing.

"One," the foreman said.

She didn't turn it off. Sensitivity turned brutal. My cock jumped after emptying. She held the head trapped against the wand and pain mixed with need.

"Again."

"I can't."

"You can. You will." She grabbed a black plug from the drawer, lubed it with my own mess, and pushed it at my asshole in one steady shove.

Burn. Stretch. Full.

I screamed. The wand never left my cock. The plug seated deep. My hole fluttered around it.

"Count for me, Boon."

"Two. Please. Two."

"Not yet."

She fucked the plug in short strokes while the wand pinned my clit-less ache at the frenulum. Second orgasm hit meaner than the first. Dry pulses. Cock dribbling. Ass clenching the plug so hard my thighs shook.

"Two," the foreman said.

Madame Corvi shut the wand off. Silence rang louder than the buzz had.

She wiped my cum with a towel the way she'd wipe down a workbench. Unlocked my ankles. Rolled me to my stomach. A camera red light blinked on in the corner.

"Tag him."

The foreman held a brass plate. Engraved letters caught the lamp.

BOON

Property of Madame Corvi

Reclamation Day 90

He riveted it through the collar ring. Metal chimed. My old name died on that sound.

"Stand."

They freed my wrists. I slid off the table. Legs wet. Ass plugged. Cock spent and still half hard.

She led me by leash down the cage row. Warm air breathed from floor vents. My tag clicked with each step.

The last cage door opened. Mat inside. Water bowl bolted to bars. Hook on the wall for the leash at night.

"In."

I hesitated. Her hand tangled my hair and shoved my face toward the mat.

"Eighty-nine days," she said. "You eat when I say. You sleep when I say. You cum when I allow it. Every orgasm is logged. Every refusal adds time to the wall."

She clipped my leash to the cage hook. Locked the door. The latch was heavy. Final.

She stayed outside the bars. Coat off now. Black dress. Boots. She tapped the tag with one finger.

"Tomorrow grooming at six. Response training at eight. Tonight you hold the plug until I check it. If it falls out, you wear the larger one all day."

She turned to leave. Her heels faded down the tile.

The kennel droned. Another cage stirred. A man whimpered once and went quiet.

I touched the brass tag with shaking fingers. BOON. Chip in my hip. Collar locked. No phone. No wallet. No Ethan on any paper she'd shown me.

My cock thickened again against the mat, obscene after two forced orgasms. Dread and heat twisted low in my gut.

Footsteps returned. Slower.

Madame Corvi stood at the bars with a tablet and the buzzing wand in her other hand.

"One more rule before lights out." She unlocked the cage. "Kneel. Mouth open."

I knelt on the heated mat. Plug shifting inside me. She stepped in and lifted my chin with the wand.

"You will do exactly as I say."

She pressed the wand to my tongue. Vibration flooded my mouth. She unzipped and straddled my face in her stockings, pussy bare and wet above me.

"Serve your owner, pet. Show me what that mouth is for now."

Her thighs clamped my ears. Taste of her hit salt and musk. The wand buzzed against my lips while her clit ground on my tongue. I licked because the alternative was the wall hook with my collar on it and eighty-nine days I'd already failed in the first hour.

She rode my face without hurry. Fingers in my hair. Tag clicking against my throat when I swallowed.

"Good Boon. Drink me."

She came on my tongue with a low sound. Wet flooded my mouth. I gagged and swallowed again. Third peak for her. My cock leaked untouched on the mat, denied a third time.

She stepped back. Wiped herself with my shoulder. Locked the cage again.

"Sleep," she said. "Morning comes whether you're ready or not."

The lights dimmed to red. The plug pulsed inside me when I breathed. The tag weighed more than the collar.

I pressed my forehead to the mat and listened to the estate breathe around me. Gates. Fans. Her heels gone now but her voice still in my skull.

You will do exactly as I say.

Day one done. Eighty-nine left. Or no days at all if I became another collar on that wall.

I curled on the mat with cum drying on my thighs and her taste in my throat and waited for six o'clock grooming, because the door was locked and my name was gone and my body had already answered her twice without permission I would've given if anyone had asked the man I used to be.