“Here’s my proposal,” he said, leaning forward. “Evening of the twenty-third, you’ll have your own silent night as a pet. Three o’clock that afternoon until three in the morning on the twenty-fourth, and we will use you every motherfucking second.”
She stopped breathing.
“You’ll be our pet from the very second your voice is taken. Treated like an animal.” He paused a beat. “Since there won’t be a safeword, I want to outline some things up front — things to keep in mind while you decide if you’re ready to push your impossible fantasy into reality.”
Dark heat flickered low in her gut. Her mouth went dry, but her pussy pulsed with need, and her asshole, kept raw from relentless use, gave a traitorous twitch.
He sat up straighter. “If you decide it’s too much, it’s fine. No pressure. Maybe the fantasy works because it’s impossible.”
Her nipples pulled tight, begging for attention, and she wished they wouldn’t. Wished she could control her body the way he could control his voice because without a doubt, he scented every-damned-thing she felt.
“But if that’s not the case…” He leaned forward again. Elbows on his knees now, his face closer to hers. “This isn’t anegotiation. I’m telling you how it will be if we do this. Silas and Boone are going in on the cost with me. All three of us have things we want to do while you’re our mute pet.”
Her thighs twitched.
He reached out. Caressed her cheek with devastating softness.
“This won’t be a scene,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “It’ll be the obedience expected of a pet. Total, absolute, unrelenting. No breaks. No humanity.”
Her chest tightened because the words landed hard, echoing her fantasy exactly.
“Complete inhumanity,” he clarified, “but that’s the point, right?”
She didn’t nod, didn’t dare. But her pulse jumped.
“I won’t mention the details you wrote in your fantasy. I assume you want those things to happen.”
The phrase echoed in her skull becausethose thingsincluded peeing in the yard, being stored in a cage, forced enemas, being strapped down and unable to scream while hurt in inhuman ways.
Her pussy clenched so hard it ached.
Kenny’s eyebrow lifted. Ofcoursehe noticed.
“Boone wants to use a round hairbrush in your pussy.”
Her stomach flipped. Twisted.
“Silas wants you to be a toilet slave for all of us.”
Her breath caught, and her stomach roiled in a queasy lurch.
“You’ll ingest a whole lot of piss in those twelve hours.”
She barely heard her own voice. “Just piss, Sir?”
“Yes. No scat. You’ll have a dog’s shock collar on your thigh, and all three of us will have a remote. Move too slow, get something wrong—” He shrugged. “Immediate reprimand.”
The pulse between her legs was unbearable now, her desperate longing to be made less than human tangling with heat and need.
“The collar’s batteries last much longer than your plug’s,” he told her, voice still irritatingly calm, “and we’ll buy extra packs, enough for dozens of shocks per hour, should you push us to it. Also, I’ll clear the property for the evening so we can use you outside.”
Her mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, and she was already outside in her mind. Knees in the dirt. Cold air on raw skin. Silas pissing down her throat while Boone held her hair.
Fuck.
It was perfect. Horrifying. Everything she’d imagined and never thought she could have. Everything she’d fantasized about in the dark, alone, when she could pretend she didn’t want it for real.
Except now itwasreal. Or it could be.
