Chapter 20
Movement against my chest rouses me from sleep, and I slowly open my eyes, expecting to see Pete’s head resting on me. I find faded pink curls there instead, and everything that happened last night comes rushing back to me.
Mason slept in my bed last night. In my arms, cuddled up against me.
I locked the chain that’s attached to his collar around one of the metal poles of my headboard, but it isn’t until this moment—as I see the chain next to us on the bed—that I realize how fucking stupid that was.
What if he choked me with it while I was sleeping?
Okay, sure, he could also smother me with a pillow or even choke me with his hands…
but still, the chain seems more like a weapon now that he’s curled up against me than it did when we were down on opposite ends of the basement.
I glance over at my door with its shitty lock.
It’s definitely time for an upgrade, but first I should really figure out what time it is.
I have to be at work for the lunch shift today, so I carefully slip out of bed to find my phone where I left it with last night’s clothes in the bathroom.
Luckily, I didn’t sleep in too late, so I should have time to go to the hardware store before work.
Mason is still sound asleep, looking more peaceful than I’ve ever seen him while I get ready for the day.
I sneak out of my room without waking him to make us breakfast—his favorite—and when I’m back in bed with two plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast, I finally run my fingers through his hair.
“Mason, wake up. I need to go soon, and I made you breakfast.”
He smiles softly before slowly blinking open his eyes. “Is this real? Or did you finally kill me?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “It’s real. You’ve been upgraded from prisoner to pet, remember?” My tone is light, teasing, and a part of me still can’t believe any of this is real either, that I let him in my bed, and I plan to use him as my own personal toy while keeping him locked up in my room.
Mason’s smile grows, and he nods toward his dog who’s curled up and still sleeping near his feet on the bed. “It’s about damn time. I’ve been so jealous of Piet.”
“I need to go to the store before work, so I don’t think I have time to hand-feed you this morning.
” I wasn’t expecting to enjoy that as much as I did, but it felt good to take care of him after using him so roughly.
Feeding someone wasn’t exactly high on my fantasy list, but last night, I gave in to whatever felt right in the moment, pulling inspiration from random scenes I’ve watched in porn over the years, and I’m really glad I did.
The way he stared at me adoringly and nuzzled into my thigh as he sat below me… I loved it all.
“However will I manage?” he jokes as he sits up against the pillows and starts eating.
I copy his position next to him and quickly eat my own food.
I can’t take my eyes off him though, and he smirks at me whenever our gazes meet.
When I’m done, I stand, putting my empty plate on the dresser by the door.
“I’m going to move the lock to the foot of the bed.
Want to see if the chain will reach the toilet? ”
“Yes, please!”
My room is large, but luckily the bed isn’t far from the door to the en suite, and the chain is long enough to reach.
It’s about time for me to leave, and he sits on the edge of the bed, quieter than usual. Something sinks in my gut at the sight. Is he not actually enjoying this as much as he claimed? I walk over and tilt his chin up to look at me. “You okay, Pet?”
His shoulders relax as he visibly calms in response to the nickname. “I’m so good. Just still kind of in shock that it’s finally happening.”
I snort a laugh. “Me too.”
A week later, I’m hauling the TV from the living room up the stairs to surprise Mason after work.
He’s been really good since moving into my room, and even though he keeps telling me he won’t escape, I don’t trust him quite that much.
Why wouldn’t he try to regain his freedom?
I’m sure I would if I were in his position.
Even if he enjoys our new dynamic, surely he’d enjoy it more with someone who didn’t force him into it the way I did.
Fuck. I hate thinking about it, but I can’t change how we got here, no matter how much I want to.
Since moving Mason into my room, I’ve replaced the handle on the door so I can lock it from the outside, screwed and sealed the windows in my room shut, and moved all of Mason’s paint supplies up into my room as well.
The smell of the paint in there isn’t ideal, but I’m starting to associate it with him, so I don’t actually hate it.
He’s been painting a lot, but he must get bored, and I couldn’t get the idea of rewarding him out of my head. That’s what you do when pets are good, right? I still can’t believe what my life has turned into.
I set the TV down so I can unlock the door, and when I finally bring it in, Mason’s whole face lights up. “Oh my god! You got me a TV?”
I laugh because I wish I had that kind of money. “I relocated a TV for you.”
He bounces on his knees on the bed, clapping as he repeats, “You got me a TV!”
“Sure.” I laugh again. If that’s how he wants to look at it, then so be it. And technically, I did give him one, so he isn’t wrong.
Mason immediately runs to plug it in, and my gaze catches on the spot where the collar used to be.
I took the chain and collar off Mason after switching the locks.
I think we both miss it, but with the door locked and with how much he claims he wants to stay, I decided it was for the best to stay off, just in case.
If he was chained to my bed and got hurt, I’d never forgive myself.
I suppose I could’ve kept just the collar on… but I still feel guilty about our situation—hence the additional entertainment for him now—and if he didn’t need it from a keeping-him-trapped perspective, it seemed like I should take it off.
Losing the collar hasn’t affected our dynamic though.
Mason still acts as if I have complete control over him, and every day when I get home from work, or if there’s time before I have to leave, he eagerly swallows down my cock like it’s his favorite treat.
He’s so fucking good at it, everything with him is great.
I’d like to do more, fuck his ass, maybe even use my mouth to get him off rather than letting him finish himself.
I’ve also thought a lot about the things he admitted to fantasizing about, and I realize how badly I want to try all his wild fantasies, too.
I finish setting up the TV on my dresser. It’s across from the bed, so I think we should both be able to watch it, and I join him where he’s now eagerly waiting on the bed.
“So is this a reward for good behavior?” he asks in a falsely sweet tone.
“Something like that,” I mutter as I pull him closer to me.
The truth is, in all of my obsessing over Mason recently, I’ve been trying to think of ways to keep him happy, to make his time with me as positive as it can be.
I’d like to believe he actually wants to be here because he enjoys spending time with me, and the sex, that he would actually choose to stay, but there’s a tiny voice in my head telling me there’s no way Mason is this perfect.
If it seems too good to be true, it must be, right?
Could I really have kidnapped a perfectly deranged sunshiny psychopath who’s happy to be locked in my room all day with his dog and his art supplies while he waits for me to come home to swallow my dick?
It sounds impossible, but it’s so hard not to hope that maybe, just maybe, I did get this lucky.
I open my streaming app and scroll through the options.
Selfishly, I kind of like the excuse of watching something together, hanging out outside of all the sex.
My obsession with him has expanded beyond the dynamics of our situation.
I want to know everything there is to know about him.
I want to be in his presence whenever I can.
“Can I still suck your dick tonight?”
I snort a laugh. “I don’t know, Pet. Was one reward not enough for the night?”
He looks between my lap and the TV with a conflicted expression. “Well, if I only get one, I’d like to suck your dick, please.”
Fuck, he really is perfect. “I thought you might want to watch a movie first since I got home pretty early today, but how about this… I’ll order us a pizza, and you can suck my dick while we wait for the delivery driver. If you do a good enough job, I might even let you pick the movie.”
I had planned to let him pick anyway since I’m curious to learn more about what he likes, but he lights up when I make the suggestion.
He really does seem to enjoy when I order him around, and he definitely enjoys it when I tell him how good a job he’s done afterward.
I think he likes praise equally as much as he likes being degraded.
Mason eagerly nods, waiting for me to strip before he dives onto my cock.
Usually I’m the one controlling the movements when my dick is in his mouth, but I need to order our food.
I relax back into the pillows, leaning against my headboard as he enjoys sucking my cock like it’s his favorite thing in the world.