“She’s okay, I guess.” Despite the nonchalance of Vandal’s comment, he looked ready to eat me. “Maybe you should have gotten her a bell, considering how much of a sneak she is.”
I glared at him.
“Here, kitty kitty.” He clicked his tongue at me as though I really was a cat, and he didn’t stop it until I reached him.
Obediently, I sat at his feet but turned up my nose at the proffered potato chip.
“Such a snobby little monster.”
“You’re lucky she’s not hopping up on the table and pushing all your shit off it.”
“Oh, I think she’s a lot fucking smarter than that.” He pressed the chip against my mouth. “Take it or you won’t like what happens.”
I licked the chip, not actually challenging him but not giving him what he wanted either. It was the lesser of two evils, because I knew he wasn’t bluffing. Besides, my mouth still tasted like cum, and the strong artificial ketchup flavor was preferable.
His eyes narrowed, and I took the chip into my mouth and chewed, not breaking eye contact. He gave what sounded like a purr of satisfaction.
“I can’t type like this. Clean this off.” He held his red-stained finger up to my lips and I licked that too, then let him push it into my mouth. Daintily, I suckled it, making sure to be thorough. When his gaze began to glaze over, I switched to cleaning his thumb. He was gasping by the time he pushed me away, his hard-on an impressive bulge in his track pants. He growled. “You’re so fucking distracting. Go to your master.”
I found myself gazing up at him in disappointment, hot for him to use me or touch me, but he only pointed at Zero, his dark gaze daring me to disobey. Pouting at him, I turned and crawled back to Zero, but not before I looked over my shoulder at him and caught him ogling my ass, his jaw flexing.
They both ignored me for a while, and I gradually went from kneeling to sitting as primly as I could on one hip because my knees were screaming for relief. Neither of them corrected me, so I figured I was safe. After maybe an hour, I shifted again, then again, and then I was curled at Zero’s feet like a dog awaiting her master’s pleasure. I tried to think about where I wanted to take my book, but I found myself daydreaming about what they might do to me when they took a break, and reluctantly replaying both being face-fucked by Zero, and cleaning Vandal’s fingers.
The snap of Zero’s fingers drew my attention, and I looked up at him, not sure what he wanted when he patted his lap.
I cocked my head at him, assuming he didn’t want me to ask in words.
“Come on, girl,” he patted his lap again, and I climbed up, settling sideways across his legs and leaning back against his arm. When I stopped moving, he ignored me and kept typing as though I was about as distracting as a placid lap cat.
I read the words as they passed through his fingers into the computer document and found myself as envious as ever at his skill with patching words together. He was like Dr. Frankenstein, stitching sentences and ideas to one another until they came to life on the page in a visceral, ugly way that shambled along, the horror of his storytelling coming as much from the lurid wording and grotesque written artistry as from the actual scenes.
I was so entranced with his story that I didn’t notice when the arm wrapped around me stopped typing, his one hand leaving the keyboard to stroke my flesh as his other hand kept spinning his tale.
He cradled the underside of my breast in his palm, and he stroked my nipple with thumb and forefinger, gently at first but gradually working up to rolling pinches that made me shift in his lap. I didn’t want to distract him while he was making progress, but the strangely vanilla teasing heated my body, each tweak torture, the slide of skin against skin sensual. He didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered, as though he was using my body to stim as he worked. My body, on the other hand, was urging me to do something to distract him and encourage him.
If I was deliberately distracting, would one of them punish me? Or both of them? What would they do?
I bit my lips shut, trying to hold back the sounds of distress that kept trying to escape my throat.
Vandal sighed and got to his feet. He was looking at me in exasperation, and in return I was pretty sure I was looking at him like a puppy that had gotten caught chewing a shoe.
Zero looked up from his work. “What?”
“Give her to me.” He held out his hand.
“She’s being good. What’s the problem?”
“She’s whining, and I can’t listen to it anymore if I’m going to get work done.”
“She’s whining?”
Vandal extended his hand more insistently, and Zero urged me up off his lap, as though I was of less interest than his document. Sullenly, I went to Vandal, who hooked a finger into the D-ring on my collar and led me from the room. At first I thought he was taking me to his office to punish me, and I could feel my body anticipating it, my thighs getting slick with the twisted arousal he seemed to always bring out in me.
Instead, he led me up the stairs to Zero’s room.
Why?
My gaze settled on the wire crate, and I whined, trying to stop our forward progress by planting my feet. He dragged me after him, stumbling, until he reached the crate and opened the door.
I opened my mouth to speak, and he waved a finger in front of my face.
“Pets don’t talk back.”
I frowned at him, but he didn’t seem worried about pissing me off. He let go of my collar and pointed into the crate.
“In.”
I pled with him using my eyes and my pouting mouth, thrusting my breasts at him to tempt him into changing his mind about getting rid of me.
“Now, bad girl.”
Sighing, I crouched down and crawled into the crate, hating the sound of it closing behind me. I knew I could open it again myself if I slid my fingers or maybe my whole hand through the widely spaced bars to get to the latch, but it still felt insulting and claustrophobic. I looked back at Vandal over my shoulder in time to hear the click of a lock.
What? These things didn’t come with locks!
His crooked grin was filled with evil.
“Bad girls don’t get to sit with the people.”
But I hadn’t done anything! I opened my mouth to protest.
“Ah, ah. Pets don’t get to use people words.”
I wrinkled my nose at him and gave a sarcastic bark, wondering if I could turn around in the tight quarters.
“If you’re not quiet, I’m going to ask your master to put the bark collar on you.”
Part of me wanted to believe he wouldn’t dare, but from the look on his face he was looking for an excuse.
He slid the fingers of one hand through the bars and stroked my bare bottom. Irritated, I shifted away from his tickling fingers, but he followed me, shifting to an opening in the bars closer to where I’d moved to. There wasn’t far for me to go. I could stay on all fours in here, sit hunched over, or lie like a sphinx, but that was about it. If I tried hard, I could probably lie on my back with my legs drawn up, like I was trying to bathe in the world’s smallest bathtub.
How long was he going to leave me in here?
When he walked out, I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my ass, and I was sorry he’d gone.
I folded, lying on my chest with my knees drawn up underneath me, the plastic tray in the bottom of the crate bumpy and making my knees sore.