#creeepy

He tried to stop himself from sprinting down the stairs, Rodger had punished him once from storming down the stairs too fast. He stopped at the open door of the kitchen. Rodger noticed him, “Ah, Asher! Come in, come in! I made pancakes.” Asher started walking but then he stopped, “Why- why are you being so nice?”

“Can't an owner treat his dog? Jeez, come on, kneel, it's getting cold.”

“You're not going to… you know… kill me or anything, are you?”

Asher jumped as Rodger chortled a loud laugh. “Of course not darling! Not yet anyway, you're far too precious to kill. But don't let that comfort you too much, because if you become useless and a brat, I will kill you.” Asher gulped. “But not today, so come, kneel!”

Asher slowly crept into the kitchen and knelt beside Rodger’s usual chair. Rodger hand-fed him. Asher had to stop himself from biting Rodger’s hand off ass he devoured the for. It was delicious, warm, sweet. “Slow down now,” Rodger chuckled, “You have no permission to puke.” Asher swallowed the last bit of glorious pancake that was in his mouth and looked up at Rodger, “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh silly, you have some syrup on your cheek!” Rodger brought Asher’s face up to his and licked a line up his cheek. Asher froze, his breathing was shaky and uneven. Rodger tucked a lock of Asher’s hair behind his ear, “Your hair’s getting longer.” Asher gulped, his joy sunk. “I think I like it longer.” Asher didn't. Asher hated it.

“What's wrong love?” Rodger hummed, massaging Asher’s scalp. It was too much. Rodger knew that, that’s what made him continue. The food, the lick, the messaging, the threats, Asher couldn't breath. He quickly pulled away from Rodger’s hold on his chin. “Let... l-let go.”

“Oh, I see the stupid stutter has come back, do I need to retrain you? Are you that dumb?” “N-no! No, I'm- I - no!” Rodger raised his eyebrows, “Well, let's sort out you pulling away from me first. Why did you pull away?”

Asher took a deep breath, there was no right answer, he was going to get hurt no matter what he said. “I-I just-”

“I-I” Rodger mimicked, “Jesus fucking Christ, you are dumb!” Rodger grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked Asher up to eye level. Asher gasped, “N-n-no! Please!”

“No, no, no, no. Don't you beg, you're supposed to be the tough one, hm? But really, deep down, your just a broken pet, isn’t that right, 034703?”

“No! I'm not falling for that again. You're a fucking sick bastard! I hate you! I hate you! I wish you would burn in hell! You fucking, shithead, bastard, fucking-” Asher was panting. And then he looked up at Rodger who’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, “Are you finished love.” Asher went to run away but was stopped with another yank of his hair. He yelled out in pain. “Right then, I can't let you off with that, let's fix it, shall we?”

Instead of being dragged to the basement for a punishment, he was dragged to his ensuite. What the fuck was about to happen to him? He was forced to kneel on the cold tiles. “Open your mouth.” Asher’s heartbeat quickened. What sick shit was Rodger planning? “Asher, now.” Again, asher refused, keeping his jaw clenched. Rodger sighed loudly -louder than necessary and closed Asher’s nose with his thumb and pointer finger, blocking the air source. Asher’s eyes widened. “Oh and by the way, if you pass out, it will make this worse, and me more angry.”

Just as Asher started to see black spots, he opened his mouth and gasped for air. Before he could collect enough air, Rodger shoved a bar of soap into Asher’s mouth. Asher tried to spit it out but Rodger was quick to put his hand over Asher’s mouth, “Chew.” Asher made a muffled scream and shook his head. He was gagging on the vile taste. “Chew.” Asher knew there was no escape. Rodger was behind him, his body pressed to Asher’s, hand against Asher’s mouth, breathing into Asher’s ear.

He slowly brought his jaw down, teeth sinking into the bitter, metallic bar. It burned his tongue. Tears were streaming down his face as he screamed and gagged. “Good, again.” Asher opened his jaw and closed it back down. He was going to get sick, heeded this thing out of his mouth.

When the bar was fully broken down, Rodger was almost satisfied, “I’m going to take my hand off baby, but when I do, you can't spit the soap out, not yet, you'll spit it out when I tell you to. Understand?” Asher nodded quickly. Rodger guided him up and to the toilet. “Wait, keep it there, come on you can do this.” Asher couldn't take it, his mouth was on fire. “Spit.” Asher managed to ball up as much of the soap and spat it out. “Oh good boy, now, one more thing baby, then were done, then we can have a rest in my bed, how does that sound, hm?”

Asher was shaking, the taste didn't disappear. Rodger got a glass of water, “I need you to swirl this around in your mouth and then swallow it. Do not spit it out, think you can do that for me?” Asher took the water and did as he was told. Once the water went down his throat, he quickly handed the glass to Rodger and vomited into the toilet. It was water but his stomach needed it out.

An hour went by and Rodger and Asher were lying in Rodger’s bed. Rodger was cuddling behind him, “You’re so good for me baby, I love you.”

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