Chapter 7 The Retired Collar
Gravel bit through my thin soles before the cars ground up the drive. Madame Corvi had my leash short in her fist, metal warm from her skin, and the trophy wall blazed under spotlights while guests in dark coats climbed the steps with leashes coiled like jewelry.
Day forty-five. Forty-five days left on a clock that had stopped meaning anything the week I arrived, and my throat still tightened when she tugged me forward like I owed her the show.
"Heel," she said.
I dropped my shoulder to her hip. My cock stirred against the leather pouch she kept me in for guests, shame and heat hitting together before we cleared the doors. I used to bid jobs on million-dollar remodels. Now I counted paces to her boot.
The hall stank of polish and other men's sweat. Creditors lined the wall with pets on display, bare knees on heated tile, collars flashing. A woman in emerald silk praised a trembling blond on all fours while she traced his tag with a manicured nail.
Madame Corvi stopped us in the center.
"Ethan," she told the room, voice flat and proud. "Forty-five days in. Requested retention."
Murmurs. A man with a silver cane laughed.
"Requested," he said. "How novel."
My face burned. I had asked for the cage, the collar, the schedule. Free and still here. The words sat in my mouth like grit.
She lifted my chin with two fingers. "Demonstrate."
I went through the list. Sit. Stay. Present. Roll. Each command came out of training, muscle and humiliation. When she said present I spread my knees on the cold tile, back straight, hands on thighs, cock straining the pouch while forty strangers stared at my hard-on.
Warm air from the floor vents crawled up my legs. The leash brushed my nipple, leather soft, maddening.
A pet near the trophy wall stood on two legs when his owner nodded. Tall, broad-shouldered, gray at the temples. His collar hung loose on a hook behind him, dull brass, nameplate scratched: REED.
"He returned," someone whispered.
Reed walked to Madame Corvi without being told. He kissed her knuckles. She let him.
The floor tilted under me.
"Reed bought his hook twelve years ago," the emerald woman said. "Came back last month. Voluntary."
Reed smiled at her. Not at the floor. At her face.
"Still the best heel in the society," Madame Corvi said, and her hand rested on Reed's neck, thumb in his hair.
Jealousy clawed my ribs. I wanted that touch. Wanted her to look at me when she said best. I was forty-five days of obedience and one humiliating request in a hallway. He had a hook on the wall, had walked away, and chosen to come back.
She didn't look at me.
"Pair them," the cane man said. "Let's see the new stock against old."
She clipped Reed's leash to a ring on the wall and brought him beside me. Two pets. Side by side. Reed's skin radiated heat from the vents. Mine prickled cold next to him.
"Race," she said. "Crawl to the far door and back. First to her boot wins praise."
Reed dropped before I did. Smooth, eager. I hurled myself after him, knees slamming tile, palms scraping. The room whooped. My cock bounced in the pouch, obscene, leaking. Reed reached her first by half a body length.
She scratched behind his ears.
"Good."
To me, nothing.
Reed panted, grinning. I knelt with blood on my palms and hate in my chest, too close to need.
The showing dragged on. Other creditors traded pets for tricks. Madame Corvi paraded Reed through advanced work: balance, fetch, silence on command, cock presented without twitching. She corrected him with small taps of her crop, warm praise in her voice each time.
When it was my turn again she had me on the bench in the grooming alcove, public, door open. Straps bit my wrists. She lubed a thick plug and pushed it into my ass without warning.
I grunted. The stretch burned. Guests leaned in the doorway.
"Count," she said.
"One," I gasped. The plug seated deep, base flush against my hole.
She turned on the vibe in the plug. Low buzz. My balls drew up.
"Thank you, Madame."
"Louder. They can't hear you."
"Thank you, Madame," I shouted. Reed watched from the hall, arms folded, collarless, a man who belonged in her house without a tag.
She cranked the vibe. Edged me twice with her gloved hand on my shaft through the pouch, stopping when my hips jerked. Denied. The third time she pinched the head and said, "Ask."
"Please let me cum, Madame."
"Not yet."
Reed murmured something to her. She laughed. Actually laughed. The sound went straight to my dick.
She killed the vibe. My ass clenched around the plug, empty ache. "Off the bench. Crawl to the trophy wall. Kiss Reed's hook. Thank it for holding his place."
I crawled. Tile tore my knees worse. The hook was cold brass against my lips. Reed's nameplate tasted like dust and old victory.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Thank who?" she called from the alcove.
"Thank Reed's hook, Madame."
Guests applauded. Reed bowed his head. I wanted to bite him.
When the cars finally left, dusk gone to full dark, Madame Corvi led me to the kennel wing by the leash. My ass throbbed around the plug. Forty-five days and I had never hated another pet before tonight.
She locked the grooming room door behind us. Just us. Reed had gone to the east wing with a housekeeper, collar on again, privileged.
"You performed," she said.
"I lost."
"You crawled when told." She unclipped the pouch. My cock sprang free, slick head bobbing. "Jealous?"
I couldn't lie to her face. "Yes."
"Say it."
"I'm jealous of Reed."
"Why?"
The words stuck, filthy truth. "Because you touched him like he's yours. Because he left and you still want him. I stayed and you made me kiss his fucking hook."
She slapped my chest. Light. Precise. "You stayed because you asked. He came back because he missed it. Which one do you think keeps me awake?"
My cock jumped. I hated that it did.
She stripped the plug out slow. Squelch. My hole gaped, air cold on wet skin. She shoved two fingers in without mercy, scissoring me open.
"Beg, and I might let you."
Not yet. She wouldn't. Rung seven in her head, deny until I broke.
"Please, Madame. Please use my ass. I'm your pet. I'm jealous. I need you to pick me."
"Pets don't need. Pets serve."
She worked a third finger in. Burn. Stretch. I bit my lip until blood met tongue.
"Say what you are."
"A jealous hole. A pet that wants to be first."
She worked the plug back in, bigger, and cranked the vibe high. My vision speckled. She didn't touch my cock.
"Edge," she ordered. "Hands behind your back. If you cum I'll stop everything and leave you plugged until morning while Reed sleeps in the warm wing."
I sobbed once, ugly. The vibe hammered my prostate. My dick leaked a string to the floor. I rode the edge, shook, fell back, rode again. She watched my face the whole time.
"Beg louder."
"Please. Please let me cum, Madame. Please fuck me. Please choose me over him. I'll do anything. I'm your whore pet. I'm nothing without your hand."
She pulled the plug. "On the bench. Ass up."
I scrambled up, cheek to leather, spread. She lubed her strap, black and thick, and pressed the head to my open hole.
"No warm-up. You asked."
She drove in. I screamed into the bench. Full stretch, brutal, cock untouched and dripping. She set a punishing pace, hips slamming, wet slap of rubber on my ass. Each thrust punched air out of me.
"Who owns this hole?"
"You do, Madame."
"Who do you want watching?"
"You. Only you."
"Lie." She reached under and twisted my balls. Pain flared white. "You wanted him gone."
"Yes. I wanted him gone. I want to be the one you scratch behind the ears. I want to be chosen."
She pounded harder. The bench creaked. My hole burned sweet, too much, not enough. She yanked out, flipped me, shoved the slick strap down my throat.
"Choke on it. Taste your ass."
I gagged, drool running to my ears. She fucked my mouth until my eyes watered, then pulled out and slapped my face with the wet shaft.
"Turn over. Present."
I lay on my back, knees wide, cock flat on my belly, pathetic and hard. She straddled my chest, the strap bobbing above my face, and fit a cock ring around my balls tight enough to throb.
"You're not cumming until I say. Understand?"
"Yes, Madame."
She worked a metal wand against my taint while she pushed anal beads into me one at a time, counting aloud.
"One. Two. Three."
Each bead popped past my rim. I writhed. The wand buzzed my prostate through the wall of muscle. The ring strangled my balls.
"Four. Five. Six."
"Please."
"Beg, and I might let you."
"Please, Madame, let your pet cum. I'm your jealous slut. I hate that he came back. I hate that I need you to want me more. Please let me cum on your floor like a broken toy."
She pulled the beads slow. Pop pop pop. Agony sweet. My hole couldn't close.
She took the ring off and wrapped her fist around my shaft, rough, fast, while the wand stayed pinned to my taint.
"Count your cum. Thank me for each spurt."
I shattered. One. Hot stripe across my belly. Two, my ass clenching on nothing. Three, four, messy, oversensitive, her hand still going.
"Thank you, Madame. Thank you, Madame."
She didn't stop. Milked me through the fifth pulse until I begged her to stop, cock raw, shame worse than the showing.
"Again," she said.
"No, I can't."
"You can." She shoved the strap back in my ass and fucked me through the overspill, prostate brutalized, cock twitching dry. Second orgasm tore out of me, dry and violent, whole body convulsing, wordless bark of sound.
She held the wand to my nipple. Third crest, smaller, meaner, tears on my cheeks.
"Good pet."
She left me on the bench, cum cooling on my skin, ass gaping, plug reinserted to keep me open. Forty-five days left and I had never needed her pick more than air.
Footsteps in the hall. Reed's voice, warm, asking if she needed tea.
She looked at me, leash in hand, door cracked.
"Stay quiet," she whispered. "Or lose your place entirely."
I bit my knuckle. Jealousy poisoned every breath. Tomorrow I would earn her eyes on me alone, or I would burn this wing down trying.
She stepped into the corridor. "Reed. Join us for a nightcap."
Us.
I lay in my mess, plug humming low again. I was no longer indifferent to rank. I had to be chosen. The bare hook wasn't freedom anymore. It was Reed's shadow over my name.
Madame Corvi's voice drifted back, calm as contract law.
"Ethan is learning jealousy. Tomorrow we start favor drills. Heels at dawn, both of you."
Both of you.
I came again from the plug alone, fourth time, humiliating aftershock, and whispered thank you to an empty room before I could stop myself.