33. Chapter 33
Cameron
I don’t like the way Justin acts. I would have understood it if he had been mad at me, both for the punishment and for leaving for so long.
I would have understood it if he cried and begged me not to leave him like he did before.
Those would have been natural reactions, but this sudden submission makes no sense.
It must be a game, a trick to keep me off my rocker, and it’s working, because it reminds me too much of my previous pets.
The zombie ones. That’s what Justin acts like now, but there’s no way a simple, well-deserved spanking could have broken him like that.
It has to be a lie. I’ll need to stay alert in case he tries something stupid like attacking me.
It’s a damn shame, because I was hoping to get some rest tonight.
To unwind and forget the mess that has become my life for a moment.
I’ve spent the past two days trying to convince people that Small is setting me up out of spite. Some believed me, most didn’t. Some made it sound like they believed me, but I’m good enough at reading people to know they were lying.
In the span of a few short days, I’ve lost most of my clients and gained a shit ton of rage.
At Small, at people, at myself for believing I was untouchable.
At least Ventresca has somewhat backed off.
He’s still talking shit about me every chance he gets, but he’s been forbidden from seeking revenge.
My career might be ruined, but at least my life is safe. For now.
As a result of currently being persona non grata in the underworld, I also can’t find anyone reliable to take care of Small for me.
The fucker needs to go if I’m to have any chance at continuing my life, but I can’t do it myself.
I need a professional to handle it, because I’m not about to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing a cop.
Even if the world would be a better place without Small, his buddies would still go after me.
Even if he committed a crime by forging the paperwork to get me in trouble.
I wonder if I could use that against him.
My first instinct was to go down the illegal route, but what if there’s a legal way to deal with all this?
Small faked the documents claiming I was his informant, and then slipped my identity in front of a suspect, directly putting my life in danger.
In my world, such a move would be considered fair game, but in his…
I chuckle into Justin’s hair. Wouldn’t it be just ironic if I took Small down the legal way?
I’ll have to look into that. Find a good lawyer, someone clean, or as clean as lawyers go. I can just imagine the vein on Small’s forehead throbbing when he has to face me in court, and it’s wonderful.
Justin doesn’t ask what has me laughing or why the tension suddenly drains from my shoulders.
He stands in my arms, letting me hug him like he always did, but it’s different.
I can’t quite put my finger on what’s different, but something is, and it sucks.
I just want the old Justin back. I didn’t even punish him that hard.
He has nothing to pout about. In fact, he should be grateful I went so easy on him, but as I came to realize, pets are the most ungrateful creatures in the world. I still love them, though.
“Come on, pet.” I lead Justin to the couch and sprawl on it. “Let’s have some fun.”
His reply is the same as before, delivered in the same flat tone.
“Yes, Sir.” It’s not an angry or accusing tone, or a hurt one.
It’s empty, and it fucking scares me. It also makes me angry, because he’s doing it on purpose.
Passive resistance, or some other psychological bullshit like that.
I could still spank him, just for the fun of it, and I bet it would snap him out of his passivity quite quickly, but I’m not in the mood for that.
If he wants to pout, he can pout, but he’ll be doing it with my cock in his mouth.
I push Justin to kneel between my legs, admiring how gracefully he moves now that he’s gotten used to the position. He was so clumsy at first, looking like a newborn antelope getting to his knees or standing up, but now his movement is smooth, elegant, and so fucking sexy it makes my cock throb.
“Come on, pet.” I gesture at the growing bulge in my crotch. “Make your Master happy.”
He repeats, “Yes, Sir,” and deftly pulls my cock out.
He wastes no time taking it in his mouth and sucking, his tongue swirling around the crown just the way I like.
A half-moan, half-groan escapes me as he starts bobbing his head, taking me so deep that he gags a few times before finding the right rhythm.
The wet heat of his mouth feels amazing, and when he presses his tongue against my slit, I cry out, already too close to the edge.
“Slow down,” I order, not wanting to be done just yet.
Justin eases on the pressure a little, still moving his head but not taking me quite so deep now.
He wraps one hand around my base and the other caresses my balls and massages my taint.
It’s the perfect blowjob, except something doesn’t feel right.
Justin doesn’t feel right.
“Stop,” I push through my gritted teeth, even though it’s killing me to pause when I’m close to the edge.
Justin immediately pulls away and settles back on his knees, his head lowered.
I pull him onto my lap and into a kiss. He obediently opens his mouth for me when I swipe my tongue over the seam of it, but that’s where his activity ends.
He lets me kiss him whichever way I want to, but he never kisses me back.
It makes me want to scream. It makes me want to apologize, like I’m the one who did something wrong.
It makes me want to fucking cry, which is what finally breaks me out of my trance.
Letting the anger win, I push Justin away until he slips onto the floor.
Being gone for him the way I am, I make sure he doesn’t hurt himself when he falls.
“So is this how it’s going to be now?”
He cocks his head. “Sir?”
His clueless act is convincing, I have to give him that. I’m too tired for games tonight, though. “Just drop it.”
“Did you not want me to touch you, Sir?”
Is he actually making fun of me now? That impotent rage swells again, making me clench my fists. My asshole pet doesn’t even flinch. “You think I won’t punish you just because you’re acting all obedient all of a sudden? That I won’t whip your ass raw if you don’t drop this stupid act?”
He has the audacity to pretend to be confused. “I don’t understand, Sir. What do you want me to do?”
“Just stop!” I want to slap him. Whip him. Kiss him, but not if he won’t kiss me back.
We had such a good thing together. Why did he have to go and ruin it? All I fucking wanted tonight was a few hours of peace, but instead, I have to deal with this. I could just shove Justin back into his cage and go get drunk, but what kind of Master runs from their own pet?
No, I’m not leaving until I get what I wanted, but first I have to ensure that Justin won’t get anything out of it. If he wants to fuck up my evening, I’ll fuck his up right back. No more orgasms for him. Not tonight, maybe not ever. Certainly not until he starts behaving again.
“Stand up,” I order through my gritted teeth. I’m still too angry, and while a few days ago, my tone would send Justin into panic, he’s eerily calm as he stands in front of me. I definitely went too easy on him.
“Don’t move.” I blindly grab the first cock cage in the drawer. It’s a little too small for him, but that’s not my fucking problem.
I’m deliberately rough as I put it on him, squeezing his balls as I lock the ring around his base and slide his cock into the cage. He’s not even a little bit hard, and that’s just insulting.
I lock the cage and shove the key into my pocket. My erection is flagging and I’m not even in the mood for sex anymore, but I can’t back out now.
“Kneel on the couch.”
Justin kneels on the cushions and grabs the backrest when I push him forward. His welted ass is on display, and I can’t help but smack it. Justin’s breath catches, but he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t try to move away, either, just stays in the position I put him in.
“Fine. If you want to do this the hard way, we’ll do it the hard way.
” I slap his ass again, harder, earning myself a whimper.
I squirt a bit of lube into my palm, more for my own comfort than for his, and stroke myself back to full hardness.
It’s not that difficult when Justin’s delicious little hole is right there in front of me, still as tight as the day I first put my finger in him.
I don’t prep him and he doesn’t ask me to. His fingers tighten on the backrest as I push into him, but he doesn’t say a word. He stays quiet as I fuck him, only his sharp breaths letting me know he’s even alive.
I hate it. I fucking hate it, I hate him, and I hate myself most of all. He only cries out when a hard smack lands on his ass and my fingers dig into a welt left over by the cane. Still, he doesn’t beg me to stop.
I pull him up, his back flush against my chest, and grab his throat. Not squeezing, just holding him. His pulse hammers under my fingers. “Fucking talk to me, Justin,” I grit out, my words punctuated by rough thrusts that tag his prostate.
“What would you like me to say, Sir?” he asks in that same emotionless tone as before, and that’s the last straw.
I shove him so hard he nearly goes tumbling over the back of the couch.
My hands curl into fists and a vicious desire to hurt him, to really hurt him curls through me, completely erasing any arousal I might have felt.
I stop myself. A part of me still cares for Justin, even if he’s being insufferable. A part of me still hopes we can go back to the way things were before.
I take a step back. Then another one. Then I force myself to turn and walk away, slamming the door after me so hard that the sound reverberates through the house. Fuck having pets.