pupbun

Sometimes I get a little too attached to the victims I stumble across. With her there was this connection between us the moment I started cutting the buttons off her blouse. There was something about the way she held her breath, how she kept so still as my blade ruined that little number she got for your anniversary.  

How do you feel, I wonder, knowing she wanted this? Once she learned I was a predator, she became a teasing flirt around me. At every opportunity she’d find an excuse to brush past my body, or draw my attention to some soft, vulnerable part of herself. More than once she would make a show of stretching around me, tilting her head back to show the long length of her throat.

My hands fit so much better around it than yours could. 

She helped me plan most of it. She found a time she’d be alone at her job, then made sure she was the only one on the schedule. She left the backdoor unlocked, showed me how to avoid the cameras and which ones were fake. She even gave me the code to the employee bathroom.

She thought it would be the one time. Just for the experience. Just so she could understand what it felt like. Please don’t blame her for this. She just wanted to learn what it was like to be used. 

I have the texts. I could show you how excited she was. How eager. How desperate. 

She thought she was safe, so she let her guard down enough she never considered I might not let her go when I was finished. They’ll find the office a wreck in the morning. Buttons, shreds of her uniform, blood. How upset are you that there’s no security footage to obsessively watch? You’ll never hear the guttural moan in her throat, not the way I did. You’ll never know how beautiful she is when she gives up and stops struggling.You’ll never see how perfect she becomes when the light leaves her eyes and she goes limp.

I thought she’d spent all the fight in her, but there was one last desperate struggle when she finally realized I was taking her to my car. Not leaving her to clean up like we’d discussed. She got a couple good hits in, almost bloodied my nose, but I could tell it was for show. Weak little attempts so when she bragged to her friends about this later she could say she fought back. 

She’s happier this way. She resisted at first, but she’s fitting into her new life with remarkable ease. We sit together for every meal, she has her own spot chained to the floor next to me, with every morsel fed to her by hand, bite by bite. She’s learned all her basic commands and never hesitates to follow through.  I don’t ask her complicated questions, and she’s given no choices to worry herself over. Sit. Stay. Paw. Play dead.

I’m going to keep your girlfriend. You don’t mind, right?

(If you would like to support my writing and help me relocate to a safer place I've included my cash app below or you can DM for my paypal)

kneeling between spread legs, dragging the tip of a knife slow over the top of a sweet boy's thigh, then down along the insides. applying pressure, but not enough to fully break skin as it passes over the femoral artery. closer between the legs, pressing the flat of the blade against his tdick to watch the way he'd shiver at the chill of it, though still hard.

hm. see, pup? see how much you want it? you can't lie, not like this. you don't really want me to put it away.

i'd hold his gaze, turning the knife over slow in my hand. my palm would close around the fixed blade calmly, finding a grip before dragging the handle through his slick.

telling him to watch as i pushed it inside him slowly, observing his momentary stretch around the notch at the base of the handle. my free hand would be braced on his lower stomach to keep him down, telling him that if he got greedy and started moving his hips, he'd cut into my palm with the blade. i'd be much meaner in the way i returned the favor.

he'd nod quickly, eyes still blown wide but aroused, staying still despite the urge to shudder and squirm at the feeling of the handle of the knife fucking into him. i'd decide to go harder after a few moments, to the degree that he can't will himself anymore to continue watching; the effort to hold his own head up too strenuous.

the twist of the knife on each stroke, my fingers stretched down from his stomach to toy with his tdick, would eventually set him off. i'd press it deeper as he tightened around it, body trembling but trying hard to restrain the involuntary movement as he came.

when he'd finally gather the presence of mind to glance back down he'd see the blood dripping from my palm, still closed around the blade. i had ignored the feeling of it biting into my skin as i fucked him harder with it.

i might hesitate before i reassured him, enjoying the momentary lapse of fear on his face. no. you didn't do anything wrong, puppy.

i'd likely feel greed of my own, watching the way a drop of blood would fall and hit his thigh. possessive, even, in how it trickled down between his legs.