57. Epilogue
Epilogue
Cameron
Justin is out in the yard, sitting on the grass. Normally, he’d have his face tilted toward the sun and he’d be smiling. Happy. That’s how I love to see him. Not with his shoulders slumped like they are now.
He’s going to need some cheering up.
I promised myself I wouldn’t snoop, so I pretend I’m busy in the kitchen, even though I don’t really cook. Why do I even have such a big kitchen? All I need is a coffee machine and a microwave.
I grab a dishcloth and absently wipe down the clean counter.
He’s taking too long. I should go to him.
No. I have to wait. It’s the only thing Justin asked for after that thing with Small.
A little time for himself when he needs it.
All the other things were my attempts at making him the happiest pet who ever lived.
He never asked for them. He just wants to be with me, and to have a few minutes of privacy every now and then.
I can give him that much, even if my patience is wearing thin.
I have needs too, and they are screaming at me to go and comfort him. My pet should never be sad.
Finally, the sliding door opens and Justin pads inside.
He’s barefoot but wears sweatpants and the T-shirt he was wearing when Mikhail first brought him to me.
The one with the mouse running around the Pi symbol that says π-jama Runner.
He doesn’t normally wear clothes around the house, but he felt weird doing this naked, and this has become his comfort shirt.
I have half a mind to tear his clothes off and fuck the sadness out of him, but I restrain myself.
Just like in those first days, he needs to be held.
Maybe even cry. I hate it when he cries, but if it helps him process, he can cry all he wants.
As long as he comes to me for comfort, which he always does.
With a sigh, Justin sets his phone on the counter. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with tears.
I ignore the phone and pull him into my arms. His shoulders twitch as he starts sobbing. I hold him tighter. “That bad?”
“She didn’t even ask if I was happy. She just cried the whole time.
” Justin sniffles, then grunts angrily. “One would think I’m dying, not living with a guy.
She doesn’t even know about the kink stuff.
Just that you’re a man. She said she would pray for me.
What am I supposed to say to that? Gee, thanks, Mom.
I’m so glad you will ask your imaginary friend not to smite me for liking cock.
” He gets angrier as he continues. “It’s just so fucking ridiculous.
All my life, I just wanted them to love me.
I tried to be the perfect son, but it was never enough.
I was never enough. Now that I’m ‘beyond redemption,’ I get it. I never had a chance.”
Would driving to his parents’ house and punching his mother be too much?
Probably. Justin’s pretty angry right now, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. Once he calms down, he’ll try to mend things with her again, only to have his kindness thrown into his face. Again. This isn’t the first time we’ve been through this cycle over the past few weeks.
“You’re perfect, Justin,” I tell him. I’ve told him a thousand times already, and I will tell him a thousand times more. I’ll beat the truth into him if I have to. “It’s your family who sucks.”
“It’s not their fault.”
My sweet, sweet pet. He can’t even get mad at his despicable family. “It’s absolutely their fault. You’re their child. They’re supposed to love you no matter what. My mother was an arrogant bitch, but she still loved me. Even if I constantly got in trouble.”
That makes him chuckle. “I should have known you’ve always been a bad boy.” He sighs and burrows against my chest. “I don’t want to talk about my family anymore, Sir.”
We never agreed on any safe words or signals, but Justin calling me Sir means his time alone is over. He wants me to take over, which I’m always happy to do. “You don’t get to decide what we do, pet,” I say sternly.
I hear the smile in Justin’s voice as he says, “Yes, Sir.” He grabs the bottom of his T-shirt, but I stop him from pulling it off.
“Keep it. We’re going out.”
He looks at me with wide, red-rimmed eyes.
“To the club?” His lips part as his tongue darts out to wet them.
“To… do things?” His voice trembles with poorly disguised desire.
Horny little thing. Exhibitionist, too, even if he denies it.
He’s never harder than when I make him sit on my cock in full view of other people.
“Actually, I’m meeting a potential client.”
“Oh.”
His disappointment is adorable. “But if you think for one second I’m not going to make you scream in front of everyone there, you’re sorely mistaken, pet.”
Justin blushes furiously. “That’s so inappropriate.”
I grab his ass and grind my cock against his stomach. “Yet, you love it.”
A needy moan is all the answer I need. I tease myself a little more, rubbing myself against him until my cock obscenely tents my pants.
There’s no answering hardness from Justin other than the solid metal of the cage his cock is encased in.
He wears it every time he leaves the house, and a lot of the time inside as well.
I love knowing he physically can’t touch himself without my permission.
That I control every single aspect of his life.
“Don’t get too excited, pet. We’re going to a business meeting first. Besides, I’ve seen the results of that Business Law test you took last week. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get spanked for such poor performance,” I tease. He didn’t actually do that bad.
Justin sputters. “I did better than most of the class.”
“I don’t care about other people in your class. I care about your results. I guess I’ll have to help you study again.”
“Oh god.” Justin sounds half aroused, half terrified. As he should be. I don’t tolerate failure. Last time I helped him study for a test, he couldn’t sit down for days. He aced it, though.
Justin hadn’t outright asked if he could go back to school, but I could tell he wanted it. He’s happy being my pet, but I noticed the way he lit up when he talked about his classes, so I arranged for him to go back to school.
He takes most classes remotely, only attending in person once every week or two.
I drive him around whenever he needs to go, and he has to wear a tight leather choker to remind him who he belongs to.
It also has a tracker. Not because I think he’d try to run, but for my own peace of mind.
I get antsy when I don’t have eyes on my pet, and we agreed that putting cameras in his classrooms would be a little risky.
Well, Justin said it and I reluctantly agreed.
I don’t need to get in trouble with the cops so soon after they dropped all charges against me and issued a public apology.
My bag with toys is already packed in my car, so I grab Justin’s hand and lead him out. It’s early, but that just means I’ll have time to get Justin hot and bothered before the meeting. Then I’ll take my time discussing art with a potential client while my pet squirms at my feet.
***
Justin
I test the restraints, but they hold. Of course they do. This isn’t a fun kink club. This is Indulgence. I’m probably the only person here consenting to what’s being done to me. Not that anything is being done to me, other than a whole lot of teasing.
Cameron kissed me and touched me all over until his client arrived. I tried to get my arousal under control as Cameron and the client talked, but my evil Master kept turning on the vibrating plug in my ass. The client kept smirking at me, which didn’t help things.
No amount of prayer is going to save my soul, that’s for sure.
Now it’s even worse. I’m strapped down on my hands and knees, my ass on display. It's a workday afternoon, so the club is far from packed, but we’ve still attracted an audience.
Cameron pays no attention to the people watching. He’s moving behind me, setting up whatever instruments he’s going to use on me. I’m both excited and terrified, and the hungry stares of the onlookers prickle at my skin.
I gasp as strands of a flogger tickle my perineum. Cameron runs them through my crack, teasing. Then they disappear, only to come back with a sting. Left cheek, right cheek. Thighs. Balls. I moan at that. It doesn’t hurt yet, but that won’t last. Cameron’s just getting started.
He gets into a rhythm, spreading his strikes around my ass, thighs, and back, until my whole backside pleasantly tingles. I’m slowly sinking into that place where nothing matters when he pulls me out abruptly.
“A company pays 12,000 for a one-year insurance policy. After three months, what adjustment is required?”
I blink. Shake my head. It still makes no sense. “Huh?”
A hard strike, straight on my balls. I scream.
“A company pays 12,000 for a one-year insurance policy. After three months, what adjustment is required?” Cameron repeats.
I glance at him over my shoulder. He’s reading something from his phone. My Financial Accounting materials, probably. God, does he actually expect me to focus on schoolwork right now?
“Well?” he prompts. Setting the flogger aside, he teases my hole, his fingers brushing over my prostate. Too much. Not enough. “Come on, pet. You have a test in two weeks. I can’t let you fail that one too.”
I want to argue I didn’t fail the last one either, but words abandon me when he increases pressure on my P-spot. “I… Um…” This is impossible. What was the question again? Something about insurance policy and adjustment? I should know that.
My throbbing cock doesn’t make focusing easier. It strains against the cage, the pressure bordering on painful.
Insurance policy. Right. “You, um, you expense part of it and keep the rest as prepaid.” There. That should be right. I think. Actually, it’s difficult to think straight, but it sounds right.