Page 2 of His Pet

“You’ll love it,” Grace promises, her sultry voice surging to my cock, but the desperate look in her eyes spoils the pleasure.

I grab her wrists. “Wait. Stop. I’m not really into… that.” Hurting a woman for my pleasure? I know some people are into it, and power to them, but the mere idea horrifies me. Besides, Grace doesn’t look in the right state of mind for that kind of game. I can’t think of any good reason for a woman to come up to a stranger at a party and ask to be hurt.

“Are you okay?” I ask, realizing my mistake when her eyes narrow at me.

“I would be if you just did what you were supposed to!” she yells. “Why the hell won’t you just fuck me?”

Because I can’t take advantage of her. Even my cock agrees, my erection nearly all gone. “I think you need help.”

Another wrong thing to say, because Grace’s shouting increases in volume. “Help?! Because I wanted to have sex with you? You’re the one who needs help, you stupid jerk!”

Even over the loud music, someone’s bound to notice the ruckus and come investigate, so I try to deescalate the situation. “You’re crying,” I explain. “You started crying the moment I kissed you. You’re not okay and I don’t want to make it worse.” Even though I might already have. “There’s a counselor on the campus. If—”

Grace doesn’t let me finish. “You’re useless! Useless fucking idiot!” she shouts as she storms out of the room and disappears in the crowd downstairs. People standing in the hallway laugh at me, whispering to themselves. They probably think I couldn’t get it up. Rumors will fly, but I don’t really care about that at the moment.

Slumped on the bed, I hide my face in my hands. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t even get a simple one-night stand right when the woman literally throws herself at me.

I look up as the door creaks, thinking that maybe Grace came back, but there’s an unfamiliar man looming over me. He looks way too old to be a student, and something in his eyes makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my lizard brain scream “Danger! Danger!”

Assuming he wants to use the room—and not wanting to be around him for longer than necessary—I murmur something about leaving. The next thing I know, he has me pinned to the bed and something cold and infinitely sharp presses against my throat.

Chapter 2

Justin

Did I think fucking up a hookup was bad? Apparently, that was just a start to the worst night of my life, because I’m about to get murdered. There’s no doubt about it. I can see it in the stranger’s eyes. He’s killed before and for whatever reason, I’m his next victim. That’s just my luck.

“Please,” I manage to whisper, my attempt at begging cut short when the blade presses tighter against my jugular. I idly wonder how long it would take for me to bleed out if the stranger slashed it. Minutes? Less? Would it make that wild blood spray they always show in the movies?

“You have one chance to tell the truth,” the man says. He’s got a slight Russian accent that only underlines the air of danger around him. I hold my breath, not even daring to blink, when he moves the knife to my eye and says, “If you lie, you’ll lose something.”

A gentle pinch on my eyelid lets me know what I’ll lose if the man decides I’m lying.

Something embarrassing happens. Too embarrassing to even think about. As the stranger threads his fingers through my hair and leans over me, his solid, warm weight pressing me into a mattress, my cock sort of notices. And by notices, I mean it stiffens in the most confusing half-erection I’ve ever experienced. What the fuck?

“Please,” I repeat, desperate to escape the terrifying situation. My voice betrays me and the word comes out half a plea, half a moan.

The stranger narrows his eyes, then moves down my body until he’s straddling my hips and my awkward erection presses against him. Fury flashes through his eyes and for one terrifying moment, I’m certain my confused cock just cost me my life. Then he grins. “You’re one kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

I want to refute him, but when his grip on my hair tightens and his ass shifts against my cock, my hips buck on instinct, trying to get friction. Jesus fucking Christ. There’s definitely something wrong with me. I’m not even into kink. I mean, yes, I occasionally watch porn where people are tied up and punished, and not because I imagine being the one holding the belt, but everyone does that, right? There’s nothing kinky about that. It’s just porn. Everyone watches porn.

“What’s your name?” the stranger suddenly asks.

The visceral hatred in his gaze is replaced by a strange avarice, and I’m not sure if it’s an improvement. Now he watches me like I’m a prized animal he’s considering investing in.

Mindful of the blade still uncomfortably close to my eye, I reply, “Justin. Justin Palmer.” It’s probably a bad idea to give him my real name, but I’m terrified of what would happen if he caught me lying. He seems entirely capable of burying that knife in my eye socket. “Please, just let me go.” Why did I let Derek talk me into coming to the party? I don’t even like parties!

“In a moment, Justin,” the stranger says almost comfortingly, then his tone grows cold again. “First, tell me what you did to that girl who just ran out of here.”

He’s after Grace? Is he the reason she started crying the moment we kissed? I should probably be brave and protect her, except I’m not brave at all. “N-nothing! I didn’t do anything to her, I swear.” He doesn’t look like he believes me, so I continue, “She just started crying. I swear I didn’t do anything!”

“Hmm.” The man lets go of my hair, only to grab my neck. His hand is huge, easily wrapping the front of it, and when he squeezes, I struggle to breathe. Impossibly, my cock seems to like that too and it hardens even further. At least the stranger doesn’t seem offended by my obvious arousal. If anything, he seems pleased, which doesn’t bode well for me. Am I going to be raped before he kills me?

My arousal fades a little when he asks, “So, you didn’t touch her at all?”

I want to lie, I really do, because he looks like a jealous asshole who beats people just for looking at his girl, but I’m a terrible liar and I really don’t want to lose my eye. “Well, we kissed, but—” I stutter to a stop when he moves the blade to my mouth. Panic surges as I realize what he’s about to do and I seal my mouth shut, but he presses on some spot on my jaw joint, causing so much pain that I’m forced to open it. Immediately, he grabs my tongue and presses the blade to it.

“Kissed, huh? Did you use tongue?” The blade digs a little deeper, making a stinging cut, and I taste metal. “Did you stick this slimy thing inside my Doll?” the stranger asks furiously.