Page 56 of His Pet

“Does it matter? Sir?”

I can punish him for making a mockery out of the honorific later. Right now, I’m just relieved he hasn’t lost all of his spark.

“Yes, it matters.”

He studies me, searching for a lie, but there’s none for him to find. It really does matter to me, because if he didn’t intend to call for help, if he chose to stay, it changes everything.

Justin looks away and chews on the inside of his lip. I feel like all the anticipation coursing through me is going to make me explode, but I rein myself in. If he needs a few minutes to think, he’ll get a few minutes to think. Not more, though. My patience isn’t limitless, and there’s still the option of tormenting the answer out of him.

Justin finally levels me with a flat look. “I wasn’t going to call anyone. I thought about it, but I chose not to. I only picked it up because it kept ringing, and I didn’t want you to miss something important. I tried to tell you,” he adds with quiet defiance.

“You did.” And I fucked up. Is it bad form to apologize to one’s pet? I’ve never done it before, but I also never cared for a pet like I care for Justin before.

“I’m sorry.”

There. I said it. Muttered it, but it’s the thought that counts.

Justin’s eyebrows jump up and he opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can get a word in. The last thing I want is to discuss the fact that I apologized to my pet. “We’re going to make some changes. I’m not letting you go,” I add quickly, in case Justin is getting his hopes up.

He doesn’t seem too disappointed about it. Watching me carefully, he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I echo. His easy acceptance takes the wind from my sails. Is it a trick? Do I give him the benefit of the doubt? Do I trust him, like he asked me to? I want to, but so much is at stake.

I remember what Mikhail said. Give him something he wants. Treat him like a person.

How do I treat a pet like a person? What does he want? The ones before always craved freedom, but Justin is different.

Just ask him, Mikhail said, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Fine. “What do you want?” The question comes out a little sharper than I intended.

“I… don’t understand?” He phrases it as a question, a very cautious one. Does he think this is some sadistic game to give me a reason to punish him or is he genuinely confused? Probably the latter. I’m not being very clear here.

“I want you to be happy here,” I say, surprised by how much the words ring true. “I don’t want you to turn into a zombie.”

His frown deepens. “A zombie?”

“You haven’t eaten in days, Justin. You don’t drink.” I should bring him water or maybe a protein shake to make sure he stays hydrated, but it can wait until we finish this conversation. “You barely even move.” I’ve reviewed the footage from the basement cameras and discovered that aside from rolling from side to side a few times, all Justin did was sleep or stare at the ceiling.

“I was tired. And…” He glances at me, then down at the floor. “It’s kind of hard to move when you’re locked up in a tiny cage.”

I wince at the hint of reproach. He’s got a point. I’ve been away a lot and Justin spent all that time in the cage. I guess I can see how that would drive a person crazy. “Alright, so you want time out of the cage. Outside, too?” I’ve noticed him stealing glances at the garden.

To my surprise, he shakes his head. He keeps it lowered, so I can’t read his expression, but I can see his jaw working as he bites his lip.

When the silence stretches for too long, I grab his chin, free his lip from between his teeth, and make him look up. “Tell me, pet.” I let authority seep into my voice. We might be discussing the rules, but I’m still in charge here, and Justin needs to know that’s never going to change. He belongs to me, and he’ll fucking do what I say. “Speak.”

Under the weight of my command, Justin relaxes, like that’s what he needed. “I just want you.”

Huh?

“Me?”

Did he just say he wanted me? What kind of a game is that? My pets never wanted me around. At best, they wanted orgasms from me, but that’s where their desire for my presence ended. They suffered through it because they had no choice, but if given the chance, they would have walked away without a backward glance. Maybe that’s what Justin meant too? “You want pleasure from me?” That I can do.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, that too.” Justin blushes. “But I want to spend time with you. And before you ask, no, I’m not lying, yes, I’m being serious, and yes, I know it makes me weird and messed up.”

Messed up? It makes him fucking perfect. Here I thought he’d ask for some books or a game console, and he wants me.

Jesus fucking Christ. Mikhail was right. Justin really is meant to be a pet.