Page 68 of His Pet

“Oh, I will. Detective Small, you said?” Stepping away, Rossi nods, as if he hadn’t committed Small’s name to memory the first time I mentioned it. “I’ll look into him. We’ll talk more when we meet again. Until next time, Mr. Matthews.”

As he heads out, hushed conversations erupt all around the club. I ignore them, sinking back into my chair and downing the rest of my drink.

“You won,” Justin whispers, like he isn’t sure if he can speak. He’s smiling, genuinely happy about me, and I realize he’s right. I won.

With backing of the Triton Syndicate, I don’t have to worry about my reputation anymore. Small’s plot has failed, and he’s going to pay for it. The lawyer I’ve contacted, a ridiculously expensive shark, is about to sue him for everything from violation of civil rights to abuse of authority.

At the very least, I’ll get a shit ton of money from a former detective. At best, Small goes to jail. On its own, it wouldn’t be enough to repair the damage to my reputation, but with Rossi backing me…

“No, pet. We won.”

Chapter 43

Justin

If I never have to attend a mafia meeting again, it’ll still be too soon. I’m almost grateful for my burning asshole and for the metal device squeezing my balls so tight they feel like they’re about to burst free from my sack. At least it gave me something to focus on as Cameron talked to Rossi, other than worrying about the outcome of their meeting.

What would happen to me if it went badly? If Rossi decided to kill Cameron, would I end up in a place like this? Tortured to death while all my killer had to do was pay an extra fee for the club owner to disappear my body?

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Rossi shook Cameron’s hand. Judging by Cameron’s immediate relief, it was what he hoped for. There were no kisses like in the Godfather, but maybe that movie is too outdated for modern mobsters. Like Cameron said, we won. Now, if only he’d release my balls and take me out of here. Or made me come. I’d take either, but something tells me we’re not going home yet.

Cameron runs his hand through my hair. It has grown out longer than I usually wear it, but he seems to like it. “You were very good for me. Quiet and obedient, the perfect little pet.”

If my poor balls weren’t throbbing with pain, I’d be bouncing with happiness. As it stands, I manage a teary smile. “Thank you, Sir. Please, could you…”

“Ah, are you in pain?” Cameron’s grin doesn’t show a shred of compassion. He’s enjoying my suffering the way Rossi feasted on his nervousness earlier. He’s taking his helplessness out on me, reasserting his dominance in a way he couldn’t with the powerful criminal. It’s scary, yet satisfying. This is what I’m here for.

“I was just about to reward you,” Cameron teases, “but if you’d rather cut our play time short…”

“No! I would like a reward, please.” I just really hope the reward means being allowed to come, because despite the pain, discomfort, fear, and humiliation, I’m still as hard as a rock.

Cameron laughs. “We’ll see. First, show me those pretty little balls of yours. I want to see what color they are.”

Probably purple, because they feel like they’re about to fall off. I carefully shuffle around until my back is to Cameron, wincing when the metal limbs of the device move and tug painfully on my sack. My new position puts me facing the bar, and my heart skips a beat when I see how many people are watching me squirm on the floor. They all saw my asshole, stretched wide by the plug, and now they all get to watch my cock drip pre-cum like I’m a horny slut who gets off being publicly humiliated.

“Eyes down, pet. You’re being disrespectful. Bend over.”

I quickly avert my eyes. The last thing I want is to earn a punishment in this place. I probably wouldn’t survive it.

It’s a relief, both not having to look at our audience and being allowed to bend forward. It considerably eases the pressure on my balls and gives my muscles a break.

“Well, that’s a pretty color.”

I cry out. Even a gentle touch on my overly sensitive balls is like torture. When Cameron squeezes them, my vision swims, and I’m grateful for already being on the floor. I bite back a protest. This doesn’t feel like a reward, but mouthing off to my Master in front of other people would be a stupid move. It doesn’t mean I can’t beg, though. “Please, Sir. You promised.”

“I did, didn’t I? Very well.”

The teasing touch disappears from my poor balls. There’s a poignant pause during which I’m braced for everything from getting my burning cock stroked to having my balls spanked. Then the plug in my ass starts vibrating. I groan and let my forehead hit the tile.

This is not a reward. It’s just more torture. The vibrations aren’t enough to make me come, just to make me squirm, which makes everything even worse. They also bring my attention back to the burning lube in my asshole. I’ve started getting used to the sensation, and it lost its power as time went on, but now the vibrations are bringing it back in full force.

“God. Fuck. Please.” I moan against the floor, the audience all but forgotten. So what if they think I’m a horny slut? It’s true, anyway.

Cameron laughs and slaps my ass. Not my balls, thank fuck, but it still hurts. “You don’t like your reward, pet?”

“I do, I do, I just… Please, Sir. Please, let me come. You said I was good.” The base of my spine tingles, my core clenched tight as I try to push myself over, but it’s not enough. My fists are clenched so hard my fingernails dig into my palms. I’m pulling on the cuffs without even realizing it, desperate to touch myself. Nothing helps.

“You were good, that’s true.” Cameron smooths a hand down my thigh. I grit my teeth as he tugs on the metal limbs of the toy. The pressure suddenly disappears, and blood rushes back to my balls.