Chapter 30
“Everything looks good on my end. Can you open the app to make sure it’s working for you?” Tristian, the guy who just finished installing security cameras all over my house, asks.
He didn’t even question why I wanted them in every single room. I’m going to assume this guy has probably seen some shit. He also installed electronic locks on my front and back door that connect to their own app. None of this was cheap, but I’ll figure it out.
“And this is all wired, correct? No one else can access the cameras?” I confirm as I log into the app.
He nods. “Yeah. I’ve only installed a closed-circuit system, so there’s no cloud associated, no monthly fees, or anything like that. It isn’t monitored by anyone, but the data will save on your drive.”
I scroll through all the different camera views, tilting my screen toward Mason standing next to me so that he can see too. “Looks like it’s all working. Thanks again for doing this so quickly.”
“No problem. Just give me a call if you have any questions. I’m local, so it’s easy enough to pop by if you need me.”
Tristian leaves, and I lock the door behind him before making my way over to the couch. My TV is no longer down here since I moved it upstairs for Mason, so the sectional is facing a blank wall.
I gesture beside me. “Sit, Pet. I’d like to look at you while we talk.”
Mason sits next to me on the couch, pulling his legs up until they’re folded under him, and turns to give me his full attention.
We’ve both calmed down since the intense knife scene earlier.
I held him for a while, we showered together, and then I made him breakfast all before Tristian got here.
The intensity of the last twenty-four hours only seems to have brought us closer together.
“I think we’re both probably feeling a little off-balance after everything that’s happened in the last day. We should talk about next steps.” I take a deep breath, suddenly nervous. “I still want you here, Little Psycho, more than I probably should, but you are no longer my prisoner.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Master. For letting me stay. I want to be here too.”
I let out a big breath. I don’t know if I’ll ever grow tired of hearing him say that.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed locking you in my room while I’m away, I have worried about what would happen if there was a fire, or if you truly needed help for some other reason.
Or if Pete did. So I thought that the cameras could be a good way for me to keep an eye on you while I’m away.
If you need to leave for an emergency, you can, but I’ll be alerted by the lock app if you do.
I can also watch what you’re doing whenever I feel like it. ”
“I love that,” he admits with a grin. “It’ll be like you’re always with me.”
“You’re sure? This doesn’t feel too restrictive still? If you want to renegotiate your limits, now would be a good time.”
“I’m sure. If you want to take me on walks, I wouldn’t mind visiting that park again, maybe during the day next time, but I like it here.
I like feeling like my only responsibility in the world is to make you happy and create art.
You might think that you’ve trapped me, but I feel free in a way I didn’t think was possible.
I haven’t had to choose what to eat for a single meal.
I haven’t had to cook or do laundry or grocery shop.
I haven’t had to pay a single bill. I haven’t even had to post my art for sale. ”
I reach out to take his hand in mine. He smiles up at me, his face so full of joy that I can’t help but smile back as he continues.
“Zane, you’ve freed me from the everyday burdens that were weighing me down.
When we met, I had such bad creative burnout.
I hadn’t painted in weeks. Now, it’s like I get to just enjoy my art again.
I like painting while I’m waiting for you to come home, wondering about your day and if I might have earned another present.
And I really like when you get home and order me around and when you help me live out my fantasies.
I love being your pet. I don’t need new limits. I just want you.”
I move up to my knees on the couch so I can lean in properly to take his face in my hands and kiss him.
It turns into more of a tackle as we fall back onto the couch, but he kisses me desperately, so I don’t think he minds.
We make out on the couch like this for a while, not trying to escalate things any further despite us both being hard.
I’m aware that what we did earlier was pretty intense, and I don’t want to get too distracted from our important conversation.
Eventually, I force myself to break the kiss, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze as I shift so I’m straddling him while still supporting most of my own weight.
“Wait, don’t you want your phone back?”
He shrugs. “I guess. But mostly so I can message you when you’re gone. If that’s okay?”
“Of course,” I confirm easily. I love the idea of being able to text him throughout my day too. “And I can still run your socials if that will actually help you feel less stress.”
His eyes light up. “Oh my god, really? That would be amazing.”
“I can also move your paint supplies into a different room if you’d prefer,” I offer. “I have another bedroom upstairs you could maybe use.”
“Are you serious? You want to give me an art studio in your house?”
“Well, yeah. If you want one.”
“Yes, please. I’m going to be the very best pet ever to earn all these rewards, just you wait.”
I chuckle. “Somehow, I doubt that very much. But I want you to be happy here, so if you want something to change, you need to tell me, okay?”
“Okay, Zane. Thank you.”
I pull up the security cameras on my phone as soon as I park my truck in my driveway. I’m basically obsessed with watching them, but I don’t think anyone would blame me when I’ve caught Mason doing elaborate stripteases for the camera as he works on his latest painting.
It’d be interesting to know what the person who eventually buys it would think, knowing Mason was naked while working on it. Would that increase the value? It would if the buyer had any sense about them.
Closing the camera app after noting that Mason is still in the spare room he’s turned into his art studio, I grab the bag from the liquor store I stopped at on the way home and make my way inside. Apparently the lighting is much better in there than our room, so he was thrilled about the switch.
And it is our room. Mason might still technically have his own apartment that he’s paying for, but he told me he wants to stay here.
I offered to go with him to get more of his clothes or personal belongings, and he shrugged before saying he likes wearing my clothes.
I’m not complaining. Once his lease is up, I’m planning to officially move him in with me.
As soon as I open the door to his studio, I realize I’ve walked in on him listening to a “spicy scene,” as he calls them, in his audiobook and smile.
“Are the books more or less exciting now that you’ve lived through the real thing?” I ask, startling him. He clearly didn’t notice me coming in.
His eyes light up as he checks me out. “I would have to say more. Because I used to think of what was happening in a very abstract, fantasy way, like it would never happen to me, even if I wanted it to. But now, I’m fully taking notes and planning what we can try next.”
“I’m all ears,” I assure him with a laugh. “It’s worked out great for me so far.”
“I’d have to agree. Oooh! Is that another present?” he asks, holding his hands out in a grabbing motion toward the bag.
“Sort of,” I answer, pulling out the chilled champagne and plastic flutes I got. “We’re celebrating.”
“Yay! But what are we celebrating?”
I pull up his website on my phone. I’ve completely redone it to match his new social media branding and help streamline his sales. I turn it to face him so he can see the final bid price his latest piece sold for.
His mouth falls open. “Holy shit. That was for one painting?”
“Yes, and that was the last one ready to be sold in the collection we’d promised, so I think it would be smart to wait awhile and build up some hype before you sell any more.”
“Whatever you think. I am loving not having to worry about the business end of things. Wasn’t today your last day working full time at the restaurant? We can celebrate that too!”
I carefully remove the cork without the bottle exploding and pour us each a glass as I answer. “Yeah, we’ll see how it goes with the brewery opening, but I’ll still be there a couple of days a week.”
“Well, these all sound like great things, so cheers to us for being so amazing.” He holds his glass up to mine with a huge smile, and I clink mine against it.
“Cheers to us.” I take a sip of the bubbly liquid and almost choke, laughing at Mason, who immediately tips the whole thing back.
He looks up at me with his favorite falsely innocent expression. “What? It’s been ages since I drank anything.”
I smile as I refill his glass. “Nothing, you’re just kind of adorable.”
“Adorable?” he asks, feigning offense. “Did you forget who you’re talking to?”
“I could never forget, Little Psycho. Is that better?”
“Yes, Master.”
I put my glass down on the extra dresser I had in here and close the distance between us, gripping him by his hips to pull him closer to me so I can graze my teeth over his jaw.
I follow up the tease of a bite with a kiss and continue placing kisses on his neck and up his face until finally meeting his lips with mine.
He tastes like the champagne, and he smiles softly when I finally pull away.
“Still adorable, Pet. Adorable and psychotic.” I gently bite him again on the other side of his neck, and he moans as I pull back to look him in the eyes. “I’m very proud of you, Mason. Your art is incredible. I’m glad that you’re getting recognition for how talented you are.”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Thank you, Zane. And thanks for helping with everything. Your support has meant a lot to me.”
I pull him in tighter, tucking his head into my chest as I wrap my arms around him. “Of course. Now let me spoil you. Enjoy your champagne.”
He immediately pulls back with a huge smile on his face and takes another large gulp.
It doesn’t take long for the alcohol to take effect, and I quickly find out Mason is even more adorable when he’s tipsy.
I had no idea he had any sort of filter with some of the wild shit that’s come out of his mouth in our time together, but apparently he’s even less reserved when he’s drinking.
“Oh, I want to put music on,” he announces and grabs his phone to put on a playlist. “Now, sit on the bed.”
I have no idea where his mind is at, but I do as he says as he starts putting on a show for me, singing and dancing.
My cheeks hurt from smiling until a classic strip show song comes over the speaker, and Mason’s face breaks out in a huge grin before he quickly replaces it with a more seductive look.
He starts stripping out of his clothing, piece by piece, teasing me by bending over in front of me and shaking his hips.
I enjoy the show, lazily jerking off until he kneels on the floor below me, working his own cock as he begs me to come on his face.
Seeing him covered in my release satisfies that dark possessive side of me, but it’s never enough. I know it’s only temporary, and I’ll have to clean him up soon, but I enjoy it while I can.
Once the bottle is empty, we order food to be delivered, shower, then eat in bed as we watch another movie Mason picks. When we’re done, he curls up, tucking himself against me.
It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around how easy everything with him has turned out to be.
How some nights can feel so lighthearted and fun like this, while others turn into me tying him to the bed while I remind him of what a pathetic slut he is.
I know it probably wouldn’t make sense to a lot of people, but we truly complement each other so well.
I pull him closer to me so I can lean in and place a soft kiss on his pink curls. I want to tell him how much he means to me, how happy he’s made me, but when I lean over to see if his eyes are open, he’s already fallen asleep.
Another time.