You Became a Pet for a Bully Couple

The Choice

The bathroom near the arts hall was empty. The light above the sinks flickered once and buzzed. Troy had you against the wall by the collar of your shirt, one fist pulled back. Eve leaned against the sink with her arms crossed, watching like this was her favorite show.

Troy: "Stay still and this ends faster."

Eve: "No, make him move. I want to hear him try to breathe through it."

Troy's fist landed against your ribs. The air left you in a rush.

Eve: "Again. Lower. Right in the soft part."

Troy obeyed. His knuckles cracked against your stomach, and you folded forward. He caught you by the hair and pulled you back up so you would not fall.

Eve: "There it is. That face. You look so pretty when you are hurting, sweetheart."

Troy: "He is trying not to cry."

Eve: "I know. It's giving brave little mutt. Very cute."

Troy hit you again, this time across the jaw. Your head snapped to the side. Blood filled your mouth, warm and metallic. He shook out his hand.

Troy: "He is softer than the last one."

Eve: "That's because the last one wasn't ours. This one knows he can't run. Watch."

She pushed off the sink and walked over. Her Mary Janes clicked once on the tile. She tilted your chin up with one finger and studied your face like it was a canvas.

Eve: "See? He is shaking. But he is not crying. Not yet."

Troy: "Give me five more minutes."

Eve: "Give me one. I want a turn."

Troy's eyebrows went up.

Troy: "You want to hit him?"

Eve: "I want to try. I have watched you do it enough times, and you look so good doing it that I got curious."

She stepped back and smoothed her skirt. Troy grabbed both your arms and pulled them behind your back, pinning you upright against his chest. He held you steady with his hands around your wrists.

Troy: "Go ahead, princess. He is not going anywhere."

Eve: "Thank you, my big strong man."

She stepped up close, placed one hand on your chest to brace herself, and swung her bare foot forward. The top of her foot connected with your balls, hard and precise. The pain was white and sharp, shooting up into your stomach. You doubled over as much as Troy's grip allowed.

Eve: "Oh my god. That sound he made. Did you hear that?"

Troy: "I heard it."

Eve: "Again. Same place."

She did it again. Your vision blurred. Troy held you up like a rag doll while she watched your face with her lips parted.

Eve: "There. Right there. That is the face I wanted."

Troy: "You are getting good at this."

Eve: "I had a good teacher. You should be proud."

Troy: "I am."

She stepped back and let out a slow breath. Her cheeks were pink. She adjusted the hem of her skirt.

Eve: "You know what, baby? I think I understand now. I really, really understand why you like this."

Troy: "Told you."

Eve: "But he is still not crying. And now I am bored."

She looked around the bathroom. Her eyes landed on the sink counter. A pair of small silver scissors sat in a plastic cup next to the soap dispenser, the kind the art students used to cut paper. She picked them up and turned back to you.

Eve: "Hold his pants down."

Troy: "Eve, that is too far."

She turned to him and looked up with wide, pleading eyes. Her voice went soft and sweet, the kind she used when she wanted something and knew she would get it.

Eve: "But my beasty, your princess wants blood. Just a little. You know how happy it makes me. And you know what happens to my cock when I see him cry. It gets so big, baby. You like it when it gets big."

Troy's jaw tightened. He did not move.

Eve: "I could just take one. Just one ball. He has two. He will not miss it that much."

Troy looked at her, then at you, then back at her. Something in his face shifted. He was not sure.

Eve: "Fine. Fine, okay. I will give him a choice. Since you are being so soft tonight."

She knelt in front of you with the scissors still in her hand. She opened them, closed them once, opened them again. The blades clicked softly. She held them up so the tips hovered just above your balls, close enough that you could feel the cold metal.

Eve: "You are not crying, little mutt. And I really, really want to hear you cry today. So I am going to give you a choice. Because I am generous, and because my beasty is looking at me like I am being mean."

She glanced up at Troy and winked.

Eve: "You let me and Troy piss in your mouth. Right here. Both of us, one after the other. And I put the scissors down."

Troy: "That is your offer?"

Eve: "That is my offer. He opens wide and takes it, and I let him keep his balls."

She stood up and handed the scissors to Troy without looking at him. He took them and held them loosely at his side.

Eve: "So what is it going to be, sweetheart? A mouthful, or the alternative?"

Troy: "Answer her."

Eve: "And look at me when you do it."

The Offer

The old library was the only place on campus where you could hide from Eve and Troy and read in peace. The new library had taken the students, the funding and almost everyone who might have come here. Dust floated through the pale light from the high windows. Behind the old encyclopedias, nobody usually looked.

The door creaked open.

Eve: "So you are really refusing me?"

Troy: "Yes."

Eve: "You did not even think about it."

Troy: "I thought about it, and the answer is still no."

Eve: "Why?"

Troy's footsteps stopped between the shelves.

Troy: "Because I am the man. I am the one who puts it in."

Eve: "You would still be my big strong man if I put my cock in you. You would still be my knight, my protector, my beasty. Nothing about that changes."

Troy: "I said no, princess."

Eve: "Fine. Then we find someone else."

Troy: "Who?"

Eve: "Someone quiet. Someone already used to being alone."

Her eyes moved toward your hiding place.

Eve: "Someone like him."

Troy rounded the shelf, took the book from your hands and threw it into the aisle.

Troy: "Up, mutt."

He caught the back of your neck and pulled you from the corner.

Troy: "Head down."

His palm cracked against the back of your head.

Troy: "When the princess talks, you look at the floor."

Eve: "No, let him look at me."

She sat on the table beside you and placed one bare foot against your thigh. Her toes pressed into the fabric, then moved slowly upward. The silver lock on her choker caught the light.

Eve: "Aww, look at you shaking. That is so not giving brave little mouse."

Troy: "He should be shaking."

Eve: "Do not be so impatient, baby. I want to enjoy this."

Her foot slid over your stomach and stopped against your chest. She leaned down and stroked your cheek with her thumb.

Eve: "You are so pretty, little mutt. It would be a shame if my pretty pitbull broke that pretty nose for me."

Troy: "I can do it right now."

Eve: "I know you can, beasty. That is why I keep you."

Her toes climbed toward your mouth.

Eve: "Open."

Troy slapped the back of your head.

Troy: "Eyes down."

Eve: "No, let him look at me."

Her toes brushed your lips. She watched your face and smiled.

Eve: "You have such a pretty mouth. Keep it shut, or Troy will make you sing for the whole floor to hear."

Troy's hand tightened around your jaw.

Troy: "Say no and see what happens."

Eve: "Do it. Be brave. I love it when they try."

Troy slapped the back of your head again.

Troy: "Say no."

Eve: "And we keep bullying you. We do not stop. We water the birds every single day until you are begging for the cage."

She spat on your cheek.

Eve: "Oops."

Her thumb wiped the spit away, almost gently.

Eve: "There, much better. Now listen to me, sweetheart."

She leaned closer, her voice warm and intimate. The lock on her choker tapped against her collarbone.

Eve: "I am a woman. I have a cock, I have needs, and I have a boyfriend who is supposed to take care of me."

Troy glanced at her.

Troy: "Eve."

Eve: "What? He should understand."

Her foot moved higher, slowly, until her toes reached your mouth again.

Eve: "You are a real man, are you not? You cannot just sit there while a girl and her boyfriend are left wanting."

Troy: "Do not call him that."

Eve: "Why not? He wants to act like a man."

She pressed her toes against your lips.

Eve: "Then he can be useful like one."

Troy: "Watch your mouth, princess."

Eve: "No, baby, I am offering him something. Open the cage for him."

Troy's jaw tightened. He knew the phrase. He always knew.

Troy: "You want to bring him home."

Eve: "I want to bring him home."

She smiled down at you.

Eve: "You let me and my beasty have you. Your mouth, your ass, whatever we decide you can give us."

Troy: "He belongs to us."

Eve: "Exactly. You become our pet. Collar, cage, rules. You come home with us, you do what we tell you, and you let us use what you have."

Troy: "You do not leave without permission."

Eve: "You do not speak over the princess."

Troy: "You do not touch what belongs to us."

Eve: "And the bullying stops. No more from us, and we tell everyone to back off."

Troy: "If you behave."

Eve: "Obviously, baby."

Her smile faded by a fraction.

Eve: "If you say no, nothing stops. It gets worse. Tomorrow we start again. The halls, the cafeteria, wherever you try to hide. And this time we will not be gentle."

Troy's fingers tightened around your jaw.

Troy: "Say no and find out."

Eve: "You can keep being our favorite little victim, or you can be useful. You can be ours."

Her toes pressed against your lips one last time.

Eve: "Look at me when you choose."

She tilted your chin toward her.

Eve: "Are you going to keep saying no, little mutt?"

Troy: "Or are you coming home?"

Eve: "Choose carefully, sweetheart. I do not offer twice."

Movie Night

Three months have passed since you became part of this house. You live in a metal cage at the foot of their bed with a thin mattress, a single bowl, and a collar that never comes off. Tonight there are no classes and no plans. They are on the couch, and you are on the floor.

The TV glows blue across the living room. Some old action movie plays at low volume. Eve is curled into Troy's side with her red hair spilling over his shoulder, wearing a pink silk robe and fuzzy socks. Troy is in sweatpants and a tank top with one arm around her. Both of them have their feet on your shoulders, clean from the shower, and their toes occasionally curl against your neck.

Eve: "This guy is so dumb for walking into the building alone. He is going to die in five minutes."

Troy: "That is the point of the movie, princess. He is the hero, so he does the dumb thing."

Eve: "Heroes are dumb. If you were him, you would just shoot the place up and leave. That is why you are my smart beasty."

She stretches one leg and presses her toes against your cheek.

Eve: "Lick."

She watches the screen the whole time, one hand playing with the hem of Troy's shirt. She pulls her foot back and rests it on your shoulder again.

Eve: "That is my good little mutt."

Troy grabs a handful of popcorn and tosses one kernel toward your mouth without looking. It bounces off your chin and lands on the carpet.

Troy: "Missed that one. Not locked in tonight."

Eve: "Aim better, baby. You are embarrassing yourself in front of the mutt."

Troy: "I am aiming just fine. Give me a second."

He throws another kernel, and this one lands near your mouth.

Troy: "See that? Told you I could do it."

Eve: "That was pure luck and you know it."

She leans her head against his shoulder. A moment later she speaks again.

Eve: "I still cannot believe we have a real mutt living in our house."

Troy: "You wanted one. I got you one."

Eve: "I know. I just mean it worked. We actually did it."

Troy: "You did it. I just carried the box and did what you told me."

She laughs. Troy kisses the top of her head and keeps his eyes on the screen. Neither of them looks at you.

Eve: "Do you like living here with us, mutt? Answer me."

Troy snorts and tosses another kernel in your direction.

Troy: "He would say yes either way. I do not know why you are asking."

Eve: "I want to hear it from his mouth."

She slides her foot down from your shoulder and presses her toes against your lips.

Eve: "Lick."

Troy shifts his weight and hooks his other foot behind your neck, pulling you slightly forward.

Troy: "Sit up straight and stay still."

He reaches for more popcorn and leaves his foot where it is.

Eve: "You are so possessive tonight. I am living for it."

Troy: "I am possessive every night."

Eve: "I know. I like it more than you realize."

She turns her face and kisses his jaw. He grunts, pleased, and his arm tightens around her. For a few minutes they murmur to each other, laugh at something on the screen, and share the popcorn bowl.

Then Eve stretches and looks down at you.

Eve: "You know what I have been thinking about all day, beasty? I want to try something new with him tonight."

Troy: "What kind of new?"

Eve: "I want to use him together. Both of us at once. I have been reading about it, and I think he can take it if we are careful."

Troy: "You want to spit-roast him."

Eve: "I want to open the cage and see how much he can hold. You take his mouth and I take the other end, or we switch. I have not decided yet."

Troy studies you for a long moment.

Troy: "He has been good lately. Quiet. Trained."

Eve: "Exactly, which is why I want to reward him. Ruined orgasm at the end if he lasts. If not, he gets the belt and watches us finish without him."

Troy: "You are mean tonight."

Eve: "I am inspired. Look at him. He is already shaking and we have not even started."

She wiggles her toes against your ear and pulls her foot away.

Eve: "Okay, mutt. Bedroom. On your knees at the foot of the bed. Wait for us."

Troy pulls his feet off your shoulders and stands. Eve follows. She pauses at the bedroom door and glances back at you.

Eve: "And mutt? Do not touch yourself while you wait. I will know."

The Doll

The bedroom smells like setting spray and vanilla candles. Eve has set up her ring light with the phone on a tripod, and the bed is covered with a clean white sheet. On the nightstand sits a neat row of products: foundation, concealer, blush, highlighter, pastel eyeshadows, and three lip glosses. The sponsor's logo is taped to the wall behind her. You sit on the floor beside the bed while Eve kneels in front of you with a brush in one hand, checking the angle. She wears a cropped pink sweater and a pleated skirt, her hair pinned back with a claw clip.

Eve: "Okay, the camera is rolling now. This is a recording, so if you flinch I can always cut it later. You will still pay for it either way."

She turns to the tripod with a bright, practiced smile.

Eve: "Hi there, loves! My sponsor sent over their new spring collection, and I wanted to test it on a real face today. Mine is already perfect, so I found someone else to be my canvas."

She laughs, light and rehearsed. She pumps foundation onto the back of her hand and leans in close. Her touch is light and professional at first. Then she presses the brush a little too hard against your jaw, and her voice drops to a whisper the microphone will not catch.

Eve: "Careful now, sweetie. This foundation costs more than your whole wardrobe, and my sponsor is watching. You twitch while I am working, and those precious balls of yours are going to suffer. Do not think that little cage is going to soften the blow either, because I know exactly where to aim."

She pulls back and smiles for the camera again.

Eve: "See how smooth this goes on? Ten out of ten for coverage, and I am not just saying that because they are paying me."

She works in silence for a while, blending and humming. Then she reaches for the eyeshadow palette and tilts your chin up.

Eve: "Now for the fun part. I am going to do something soft and romantic, very princesscore."

She starts on your left eye with gentle strokes. Then your knee twitches, just slightly, from the position you have been holding. Eve's hand pauses. She looks at you for a long moment. She sets the brush down on the bed, slow and deliberate, and rises to her feet.

Eve: "I told you what would happen if you moved."

She steps back just enough to get the angle, then swings her bare foot forward. The top of her foot connects with your balls, hard and precise. The pain is white and sharp, shooting up into your stomach. You double over, gasping, but she catches you by the hair and holds you upright. Above you, her skirt sways. Under the fabric, the outline of her cock twitches once, then twice, pressing against the pleats. She watches your face with her lips parted and her eyes bright and hungry.

Eve: "Oh, that is the face I was waiting for. I wish the camera could see this right now. Troy is going to be so jealous that he missed it."

She lets go of your hair and crouches back down, picking up the brush as if nothing happened. Her voice returns to its camera-ready sweetness.

Eve: "Okay, where were we? Right, blending. Always blend upward, loves."

She works on the other eye with precise and unhurried strokes. When she speaks again, it is in that same sweet tone, but her eyes stay fixed on her work.

Eve: "You know, you make a very pretty girl. You have the bone structure for it. Soft and delicate. If I did not know any better, I would say this was always meant to be."

She dabs blush on the brush and presses it to your cheek.

Eve: "Have you ever thought about hormones? They are not just for people like me. You could take them too, and then we could match. We would finally have something in common."

She laughs, light and airy, as if she just told a joke. She reaches for the highlighter.

She leans in close, and her voice drops to a low, breathy whisper. Her fingers curl into a scissor shape and hover just above your lap.

Eve: "And if you are really good for me, maybe I will give you a little gift. A procedure, just for you. I keep a very sharp pair of scissors in my drawer, and I have been told I have steady hands. One quick snip and those balls of yours are gone for good. Then you would be perfect, almost like me."

She pulls back and laughs, light and tinkling, as if she just told the funniest joke in the world.

Eve: "I am just teasing you, sweetie. Maybe."

She dusts highlighter along your cheekbones and tilts her head, studying the effect.

Eve: "There, so pretty. Now for the lips."

She picks up a lip gloss and tilts your chin up.

Eve: "This is the last one, so open up for me."

She applies it slowly, top lip and then bottom. Her thumb presses your chin down when she is done.

Eve: "Perfect."

She turns back to the camera and claps her hands together.

Eve: "And that is the finished look! I will link everything below, so do not forget to use my code at checkout. Bye, loves!"

She taps the screen. The red light goes dark. She sets the phone down and studies you, tilting her head.

Eve: "The makeup is good, but it is missing context. A face like this needs a frame."

She stands and walks to the closet, then looks back at you and beckons with one finger.

Eve: "Come here and let us see what we are working with."

She pulls the closet door open and steps aside. Inside, past her pastel skirts and off-shoulder tops, there is a lower rack you have never seen before. Smaller things hang there, dresses mostly, in soft colors, arranged in a neat row at your kneeling height.

Eve: "Go on and pick one. Which do you like better? And do not take forever, because I can always open the cage and let Troy pick for you."

The War Dog

The bedroom is dark. Eve left early for a brand shoot in the city. She will not be back until late. Before she left she kissed Troy on the cheek and said, "Play nice with the mutt. Or don't. I don't care. Just don't break anything I want to use later." Then she was gone.

You are in the cage. Naked. Collar around your neck. Chastity cage on your dick. You have been in here since she left. The house is too quiet. You hear Troy in the living room, then in the kitchen, then in the hallway. His footsteps are heavy. He does not know what to do with silence.

The bedroom door opens. Troy stands in the doorway. He does not look at you. He walks to the cage, crouches down, and opens the door. He does not say a word. He reaches in, clips a leash to your collar, and pulls you out.

The garage is cold. The space heater hums in the corner. A heavy bag hangs from the beam. A bench press sits against the wall. Three monitors glow on a desk in the back, green candles scrolling across the screen. On the floor by the bench, a cluster of small glass vials and a tangle of insulin syringes. A sharps container sits open.

Troy leads you to the center of the garage. He kicks the back of your knees. You drop to the concrete. He stands over you, leash still in hand. He does not speak. He looks at you the way a dog looks at a piece of meat. Slow. Hungry. He walks a half-circle around you, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to the cage between your legs. The silence stretches.

Finally, he stops in front of you. He glances at the monitors.

Troy: "I made two thousand dollars on crypto today. One trade. One hour. What did you do? Piss yourself in your cage?"

He crouches down. He lifts his bare foot and presses his toes against the chastity cage. He wiggles them, studying it.

Troy: "Look at this. Real men don't wear this. Even Eve didn't wear this. She had something between her legs and she owned it. She didn't lock it up. She used it. But you? You let her put you in a cage. You let her take your dick away. That's not a man. That's not even a person."

He stands up. He looks at the monitors again, then back at you.

Troy: "You know what she did? She turned herself into a woman. Fine. I accepted that. I made my choice. But now she wants to turn you into the same thing. A little house pet. A chihuahua."

He glances at the screen. Green candles.

Troy: "Her friend has one of those. A human pet. She calls it her chihuahua. Shakes all the time. Yaps. Useless. That's what she wants you to be."

He looks down at you.

Troy: "But I don't need a chihuahua. I need a war dog. Something with teeth. Something I can use. So starting today, I'm going to train you. And if you survive, maybe you'll be worth something."

He grabs the leash and yanks you to your feet. You stumble. He holds you upright.

Troy: "Put your hands up. Defend yourself."

You raise your hands. He hits you in the ribs. You fold. He grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, then hits you in the face. Your head snaps back. He hits you again in the stomach. You gasp. He lets go of your wrists and punches you in the jaw. You fall.

Troy: "Get up. Defend yourself. I said defend yourself."

You get up. He hits you again. And again. Every time you raise your hands, he hits your arms. Every time you lower them, he hits your face. You try to back away. He follows. You try to dodge. He grabs your shoulder and knees you in the gut. You fall on your side. He kicks you in the back. You curl up. He kicks your legs. Your arms. Your ribs. Anywhere that is open.

You stop moving. You cannot get up. Blood runs from your nose into your mouth. Your lip is split. Your ribs ache with every breath.

Troy stands over you. He laughs. Loud. It echoes off the concrete.

Troy: "That's it? That's all you've got? She said you were broken. She didn't say you were useless. You can't fight. You can't run. You can't even stand. What are you good for? Nothing. You're a hole. A punching bag. A piss stain."

He puts his bare foot on your face. He does not press hard. Just enough to feel the weight.

Troy: "Stay down. Stay down or I'll break your jaw."

He pulls his foot away. He raises both arms in the air and spins toward the empty garage like he just scored a knockout in front of a crowd.

Troy: "Ladies and gentlemen! Another one down! One and oh! Undefeated!"

He drops his arms. He looks down at you.

Troy: "You're not even a warm-up. You're a speed bag."

He leans over. He spits on your face. It lands on your cheek and mixes with the blood.

He straightens up. He unzips his jeans. He pulls out his cock. He does not hurry. He aims and pisses on you. On your face. On your chest. On your stomach. The warmth spreads over your skin and pools on the concrete.

He shakes off and tucks himself back in. He zips up. He turns and walks to the monitors. He sits down in the chair. Something on the screen catches his attention. He leans in. He starts clicking keys. Green candles. He does not look at you. He does not say another word. The only sounds are the space heater and the click of keys.

The Witness

The cage sits in the corner of their bedroom with the door unlocked. A month has passed since you became part of this house. Through the wall, you hear them in the living room. Eve's voice cuts through first, sweet and slow like honey over glass.

Eve: "So, you made a friend today. That is really cute, baby. What did the two of you talk about for so long?"

Troy: "We just talked for a few minutes, and that is it."

Eve: "You just talked to the guy who looked at me like I was a piece of meat. The same guy I asked you to handle for me."

Troy: "He apologized to me, Eve."

Eve: "I do not want his apologies. I want his teeth on the floor and in my hand. And you gave him a beer instead."

Troy: "I am not your fucking hitman, princess."

Eve: "You are my boyfriend and my protector, or at least that is what you are supposed to be. When I point at someone, you remind them why they should be afraid of you. You do not swap numbers and laugh about it."

Troy: "He looked at you, and that is all he did."

Eve: "He looked at what belongs to you, and you let him. You made me look like a joke, Troy. I am the woman you are supposed to protect."

Troy: "Maybe I am tired of being your attack dog every single day."

Eve: "My attack dog. I thought you were my knight, but knights do not make friends with the enemy."

Troy: "You did not make me into anything, Eve."

Eve: "Did I not? Without me, you are just another angry kid with big fists and no direction. I gave you everything, and you cannot even knock out a few teeth for me."

Troy: "He did not deserve that, and you know it."

Eve: "What about me? What do I deserve, Troy? A boyfriend who stands up for me, or a coward who makes friends with the guy who undressed me with his eyes?"

Troy: "Do not call me that word again."

Eve: "Then stop acting like one. You want to be my man? Go find him and fix what you broke."

Troy: "I am not going to hurt him just because you are jealous."

Eve: "Jealous? I am humiliated. My boyfriend let some creep stare at me and then bought him a beer. What am I supposed to tell people? That my big strong man is too soft to protect me?"

Troy: "Nobody is saying that about you."

Eve: "I am saying it right now, to your face. You are weak, and all those muscles and all that anger mean nothing because you cannot do one simple thing when I ask. What kind of man does that?"

Troy: "The kind that does not hit people for no reason at all."

Eve: "You are pathetic. You are spineless. You are useless to me."

Her voice rises now, thin and sharp. Somewhere in the kitchen, a drawer slams shut.

Troy: "Do not say that to me."

Eve: "What are you going to do about it? You going to hit me now? Go ahead and show me you are a man. But you will not, will you? You are just a scared little boy playing dress-up with muscles."

Silence stretches through the house. You hear Troy breathing hard, slow and heavy through his nose. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out low and shaking.

Troy: "Shut up, Tim."

The name lands like a gunshot. Eve goes completely quiet. Then a fist hits flesh with a single, brutal thud. A sharp crack echoes through the living room. Eve gasps. Something fragile shatters against the floor. Footsteps pound across the room. A door slams. Then another. Then silence.

You hear Troy on the other side of the bedroom door, his breathing ragged and his fists hitting the wall once, twice, three times. The wood rattles in its frame. Then quiet.

The bedroom door opens, and from your cage you see her step into the room where you are kept. Eve has her hair a mess and red strands sticking to wet cheeks. A dark bruise blooms under her left eye, already swelling, the skin around it turning purple and red. She is barefoot, and her blouse is torn at the collar. She walks past the cage without looking at you, sits on the edge of the bed, and pulls her knees to her chest.

She cries with quiet, broken sounds while her shoulders shake. Her fingers dig into her arms and leave red marks. She stares at the wall without blinking.

Then her face twists. She turns toward the door and screams at the top of her lungs.

Eve: "I hate you, Troy! I fucking hate you!"

Her voice cracks on the last word. She buries her face in her knees and sobs. Behind the door, Troy is still raging, and his voice comes through in pieces.

Troy: "Fucking bitch. Fucking... I will kill her."

Something heavy hits the door. The wood rattles again. Eve flinches, pulls her knees tighter, and keeps crying.

Eve's Lesson

The bedroom is warm and dim, lit by one lamp on the nightstand. The sheets are rumpled. Troy lies on his back in the middle of the bed, naked, with one arm behind his head. His body is thick and heavy with muscle, his shoulders wide and his chest broad, and the gothic "Eve" on his chest rises and falls with his breath. His cock lies half-hard against his stomach, thick and veined with the head still flushed from the shower. His thighs are solid and dusted with dark hair. He watches the ceiling with a bored, patient look, the way a king waits for his food to arrive.

Eve is on her hands and knees between his legs, naked except for her silver lock choker. Her skin is pale and freckled, her hips round and soft, her red hair spilling over one shoulder. Between her thighs, her own cock hangs heavy and pink, half-hard with the tip glossy. She is smaller than Troy and delicate, doll-like, but her cock is thick and smooth and curved slightly upward. She looks at it the way she looks at everything she owns.

You kneel on the bed beside her, naked. Your cock is locked in its cage, small and tight and pressed against your thigh. The metal is cold, and you can feel every heartbeat in it.

Eve turns her head and smiles at you, sweet as syrup.

Eve: "Aww, my little mutt is all clean and ready for his lesson. That is what I like to see."

She turns back to Troy and lowers her head. She takes him into her mouth slowly with one hand wrapped around the base, her lips stretching around his girth. She works him with practiced rhythm, cheeks hollowing and tongue flat along the underside. Troy exhales through his nose, slow, and his hand comes down to rest on the back of her head. He does not push, because he does not need to.

Troy: "That is my perfect beasty."

She hums around him, pleased. After a minute she pulls off with a wet sound and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Troy's cock is fully hard now, thick and slick and standing up from his stomach. She gives it one last kiss on the head and then crawls toward you.

She leans in and presses her lips to the metal of your cage, soft and almost tender. Then she pulls back and looks at you with bright eyes.

Eve: "Did you see how I did that just now? That is exactly how you make my beasty feel good, and now I am going to teach you the same thing."

She pats the mattress beside Troy.

Eve: "I want you on your stomach now, sweetie, right next to him with your head between his legs."

She guides you into position. Troy shifts to give you room with one hand still behind his head, watching. Eve kneels beside you and takes Troy's cock in her hand, holding it up like a teacher with a pointer.

Eve: "Okay, sweetheart, you need to listen carefully because I am only going to explain this one time."

She strokes him slowly, base to tip, squeezing just under the head.

Eve: "You are not going to use your teeth at any point. If I feel even a little bit of teeth, I will stop immediately. And if I stop, then he starts. Do you understand what that means for you?"

She waits until you nod.

Eve: "Good. Now you start at the very tip by kissing it first like you actually mean it. Then you lick up the side all the way to the top. After that you take just the head into your mouth and suck on it gently, as if you are tasting something very expensive."

She demonstrates on her own hand, lips wrapping around two fingers, cheeks hollowing.

Eve: "Then you go deeper, slowly, without rushing. Breathe through your nose and use your hand at the base if you cannot take all of him. When he starts to twitch, that is when you go faster and use your tongue right here."

She taps the spot just under the head.

Eve: "That is the spot that makes him come, so you better slay it."

She releases Troy's cock and wipes her hand on the sheet. Then she leans close to your ear, and her voice drops to a whisper.

Eve: "You better try your hardest, sweetheart, because if he does not like it, my knight might get frustrated. And when he gets frustrated, he breaks little things like fingers, wrists, or maybe even a jaw."

She pulls back and smiles, sweet as frosting.

Eve: "But I am sure you will do great, because you are my perfect little pet, are you not?"

Troy shifts on the bed and looks down at you. His eyes are flat and pale.

Troy: "The clock is running, mutt, so you better open your mouth right now and get to work."

Day Off

Sunday morning in the kitchen. You are on the floor beside the sink, kneeling in front of your bowls. Both of them are completely empty.

Troy stands at the counter in grey sweatpants, working the French press. Steam curls up past his bruised knuckles. He does not look at you. The silver chain with E + T hangs against his bare chest, catching the light.

Eve shuffles in wearing one of his old T-shirts and nothing else, her cock soft between her legs, her hair a mess from sleep. She stops beside you and runs her fingers through your hair.

Eve: "Good morning, sweetie."

Her fingers linger at the back of your head.

Eve: "Already on your knees for me before I have even had my coffee. Such a good little pet."

She pats your cheek and crosses to Troy, wrapping her arms around him from behind. The lock on her choker clicks softly against his back.

Eve: "Good morning, my beasty."

Troy: "Morning, princess."

He turns his head and kisses her temple. Eve hops onto the counter and swings her legs while he pours three mugs. The third mug is smaller. He sets it between them.

Eve: "Aww. You actually remembered."

She picks it up, spits into it, and hands it to Troy. He adds his own, swirls the drink, and pours it into your water bowl. Then he takes leftovers from the fridge and dumps them into your food bowl.

Troy: "Eat it all."

He looks down at you.

Troy: "Right now."

They sit at the table. Eve pulls one knee up and balances her mug against her thigh. Troy eats his eggs and scrolls through his phone. For several minutes, neither of them pays attention to you.

Eve: "So, what is the play today? Gym?"

Troy: "The market is closed. Sundays are dead."

Eve: "Wait. You are actually free?"

She watches him over the rim of her mug.

Eve: "All day?"

Troy: "Yeah. I am free."

He takes another bite of egg.

Troy: "You?"

Eve: "The sponsor call got pushed to Tuesday."

Her smile widens.

Eve: "So I am all yours."

She chews her toast slowly and watches him. Then she stretches one leg beneath the table and slides her foot into your food bowl, right on top of the rice. She wiggles her toes, mixing the cold leftovers into a paste. Every time you lean down, she shifts it across your path and stirs the rice again without looking at you.

Eve: "Both of us free on the same day. That never happens."

Troy: "And what does that mean for us?"

Eve: "It means we have him."

She tips her chin toward you, her foot still buried in your food.

Eve: "No classes. No work. No one watching us."

Troy: "You want him all day."

Eve: "I want to see what he can take."

Troy glances at you, then back at her.

Troy: "He is barely fighting."

Eve: "Barely is still too much."

She presses her toes deeper into the rice.

Eve: "I want to make him sing today, beasty. Properly."

Troy sets his fork down. Something shifts behind his eyes.

Troy: "You want a show."

Eve: "I want my big strong man to give me one."

She leans against his shoulder and traces the edge of his tattoo through his shirt.

Eve: "I want to watch you take someone apart for your princess. Take your time. Let him understand what is happening."

Troy: "And when he begs?"

Eve: "Keep going."

Troy: "When he looks away?"

Eve: "Make him look at you."

She glances down at you.

Eve: "I want to see his face when he understands that waiting changes nothing."

Troy's mouth pulls into a slow grin.

Troy: "You planned this already."

Eve: "Obviously."

She keeps her foot in the bowl and looks toward the hallway.

Eve: "Start in the bedroom."

Troy: "I thought you wanted him awake for that."

Eve: "I do. I want him awake enough to understand what he is hearing."

Troy: "And after?"

Eve: "The bathroom."

Her eyes brighten.

Eve: "Then we decide whether he has earned the camera."

Troy: "No camera at the start?"

Eve: "Later. I want the first tears for us."

Troy gives a quiet laugh.

Troy: "You are mean this morning."

Eve: "I am inspired."

She pulls her foot from your bowl. Rice and sauce cling between her toes. She slides off the counter and comes to stand beside Troy. He crouches in front of you while she rests her chin on his shoulder.

Troy: "You heard her."

He takes your chin and tilts your face up.

Troy: "You stay where we put you. You look where we tell you to look. When she asks you something, you answer."

His grip tightens slightly.

Troy: "Do that, and maybe you get to keep the day simple."

Eve gives him an unimpressed look.

Eve: "Do not promise him simple."

Troy glances back at her.

Troy: "Fine."

He looks down at you again.

Troy: "It will be hard."

Eve lifts her foot and holds it in front of your mouth. Her toes are spread, rice and sauce smeared across her skin.

Eve: "Clean it all off for me, sweetheart."

She nudges the bowl closer with her heel.

Eve: "Then finish what is left."

Her smile is soft and pleased.

Eve: "You are going to need your strength for what comes next."

Free Scenario