Pet

When I came home I saw a dog crate in the apartment but no dog.

"I'm having a friend over later. Make sure this place is spotless."

I was still finishing up when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said Ms. Rouge.

It was Frederick.

Frederick wore a long-sleeved dress shirt. He'd replaced his filthy boots with Chelseas, and instead of a tattoo gun, wielded a dozen roses.

Frederick gave the flowers to Ms. Rouge and kissed her on the cheek.

She passed them to me and said, "Find a vase."

"She's healing nicely," remarked Frederick.

"Nevermind her," said Ms. Rouge.

"Make us something special for dinner," she said to me. "Surprise us."

Ms. Rouge and Frederick sat at the table while I gathered the ingredients. Federick lit cigarettes for the both of them, and the pair drank and laughed while I cooked.

By the time I went to serve them, they'd already polished off a bottle and a half of wine. Frederick's lips were pressed against Ms. Rouge's, and her hand was on his crotch. She glared at me as she rubbed his cock.

I turned away quickly, not sure if I was supposed to see that.

I stared at the plates as I set down their dinner. The dish I'd thrown together -- a creamy mushroom risotto with a sprinkle of fresh herbs -- steamed faintly, its scent mixing with the sharp tang of wine and cigarette smoke.

"Does red wine go with risotto," asked Ms. Rouge.

"I'll drink anything with anything," said Frederick.

"Smells good," he mumbled, pulling back from Ms. Rouge just long enough to glance at the food.

His voice was rough, like he'd just smoked an entire pack. He couldn't bear to look at me. His eyes stayed glued to her.

Ms. Rouge leaned back in her chair, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

"Don't just stand there gawking. Pour us some more wine."

I nodded, fetching the half-empty bottle from the counter. The liquid glugged into their glasses. My hands shook a little. I hoped they didn't notice.

Frederick took a long drag from his cigarette. He tapped the ash on the edge of his plate.

"So," he said, finally glancing my way, "you're the little helper around here, huh? She's got you trained up nice."

"Leave her alone," cut in Ms. Rouge. She swirled her wine glass, watching the liquid spin. "She's useful enough. For now."

I scurried back and forth, focusing on clearing the empty bottles and dirty napkins from the table. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer or just keep moving.

"She needs to eat, too," said Ms. Rouge. She mixed the leftovers from each of their plates with the ash and plopped them into my bowl. She placed it down far from the table.

Face first, I dug in.

"Her ass wiggles when she eats," said Frederick. "She'd look great with a tattoo on her lower back. I can show you some sketches."

As soon as I was done eating, I presented myself to Mistress and her man. My face was a mess, but my body, delectable.

The pair smiled, staring at my nakedness.

"So. What's for dessert" slurred Frederick.

"I'll get it ready," said Ms. Rouge.

"Get in," she said, pointing at the cage.

On my hands and knees I could barely fit.

Ms. Rouge handcuffed me behind my back, hanging me from the bars. She clipped my collar onto the roof of the cage. I could only face forward. Mistress shoved a dirty stocking in my mouth and placed a ball gag over it.

Ms Rouge petted my pussy and stuck her finger inside me.

"You're ready for action. A pity you aren't going to get any."

She rubbed my juices on my face until her finger was dry. Then she kissed my forehead, and spit on me for good measure.

Ms. Rouge stepped aside. All I could see was a pile of covers.

Oh no. I never made the bed.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Ms. Rouge handed Frederick the key and fixed a lock onto the crate.

He smiled, looking me in the eyes, as he turned the key.

"Ok, Frederick. Now you can have your dessert."

My wrists were killing me. The more weight I put on my knees, the harder it was to breathe. I'd have to let the cuffs bite into my skin just a little more, if I wanted to continue living.

The physical pain, unfortunately, was but a small portion of my suffering.

Ms. Rouge embraced Frederick. The pair kissed.

Ms. Rouge's tongue danced inside Frederick's mouth. He reciprocated, as he drunkenly grabbed at her breasts.

Ms Rouge moaned.

Mad as I was, I couldn't help but be turned on.

She pulled her lover closer, hooking him beneath the armpits. They kissed and kissed, until Ms Rouge decided she had enough. She got down on her knees and unbuckled her man's pants.

Frederick was huge. Somehow even bigger than the last time.

Ms. Rouge's lips parted. She took him in, slow at first, then with a rhythm that made his head tip back and his breath hasten. I could hear exaggerated slurping, mingling with his groans, and the faint creak of the crate as I shifted to ease the ache in my wrists. The cuffs bit deeper -- their sharp sting grounding me in the midst of my spiraling thoughts.

I should've been furious--humiliated, even--but my body betrayed me. Heat pooled low in my belly, a shameful ache that pulsed in time with their movements. My face burned, slick with Mistress' spit and my own helpless frustration.

Frederick's hand tightened in her hair, guiding her with a roughness that made her moan around him. The sound vibrated through the room. I felt it in my bones, a cruel echo of what I couldn't have.

"Fuck, Heather," he said.

His boots scuffed the floor as he steadied himself.

"You're too good at this."

She pulled back just enough to flash him a wicked grin.

Her lips glistened.

She murmured, "I know."

Then she was on him again. Relentless, her hands gripped his thighs as she worked him toward the edge. His breaths came faster. I could see the tension in his shoulders, his jaw clenched as he fought to hold on.

I squirmed in the crate. The metal bars dug into my knees. The ball gag muffled any sound I would've made--anger, desperation, anything--but my body screamed silently. My thighs pressed together, slick with the evidence of my own twisted arousal. I hated it. I hated them. And yet, I couldn't close my eyes.

Frederick's groans turned guttural, his hips jerking as he lost control. Ms. Rouge didn't flinch. She took it all, her eyes flicking up to meet his with a glint of triumph. When she finally drew back, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking like a queen who'd just claimed her prize. He slumped against the table, panting. A lazy grin spread across his face.

"Best dessert I've had in a while," he muttered, reaching for the wine. He took a swig straight from the bottle.

Ms Rouge grabbed him from behind, pulling him onto my bed. The mattress springs creaked from their combined weight. Ms. Rouge shoved Frederick down, straddling him with predatory grace. The covers bunched up beneath them, sheets tangling around their legs.

Ms Rouge peeled off her top. Her blouse landed on the cage, dangling just out of reach, taunting me with its proximity.

Frederick's hands roamed across her bare skin, tracing the curve of her spine as she arched over him.

"You're a wild one, Heather," he slurred, his voice thick with booze and lust. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer. She laughed--a sharp, cutting sound that sliced through the haze of smoke and sex filled room.

"And you're a mess," she shot back, grinding against him. "But I like messes."

Her nails raked his chest, leaving faint red trails across his skin.

He didn't seem to mind. If anything, it spurred him on. His hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra as she leaned down to bite his earlobe.

The crate rattled as I shifted. The cuffs carved deeper into my wrists. Warm, wet blood trickled down my forearms, but I barely registered it over the suffocating mix of fury and need twisting inside me. The stocking in my mouth tasted of sweat and stale perfume. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't escape the sight of them devouring each other on my bed.

Ms. Rouge glanced over her shoulder, catching my eye through the bars. Her lips curled into a smirk, like she knew exactly what this was doing to me.

"Enjoying the show," she purred.

Frederick ignored her and me, too drunk or distracted to care, his hands tugging at her skirt.

I wanted to scream, to claw my way out and rip that smug look off her face. But all I could do was watch. My body betrayed me as it responded to the sounds--the wet smack of their kisses, the rustle of clothing hitting the floor, the low growl in Frederick's throat as she sank onto him. The bedframe creaked rhythmically, a cruel metronome to my torment.

Time blurred. Minutes went by. Maybe hours. I couldn't tell.

My knees ached. My shoulders burned. The room spun with their gasps and moans.

Ms. Rouge's hair fell in a wild curtain over her face as she rode him. Her movements grew frantic. Frederick's hands gripped her thighs. He held tight, his knuckles white, until he buckled beneath her with a ragged shout.

She collapsed onto his chest, both of them panting and slick with sweat.

For a moment, the only sound was their breathing.

Ms. Rouge rolled off him, sprawling across the bed like it was hers--like everything else in the apartment.

Frederick fumbled for a cigarette, lighting it with shaky hands. The flame briefly illuminated his flushed face.

"Think she's learned her lesson yet," said Ms. Rouge. Smoking yet again, she blew a cloud toward the ceiling.

He nodded vaguely, not bothering to look.

"Not quite," she said softly. "But she will."

Ms. Rouge slid off the bed and walked over to the crate. Her fingers brushed the lock, toying with it like a cat with a trapped mouse.

"You didn't make the bed," she said. "Sloppy. I should leave you hanging there all night."

My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Looking up at her, I pleaded her with my eyes. I tried to scream, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but the gag ensured that all that came out was pathetic little whimpers.

She crouched down, her face level with mine, close enough so I could smell the wine on her breath and the musk of sex clinging to her skin.

"But I'm feeling generous."

Ms. Rouge unclipped my collar from the bars and removed my handcuffs.

My head crashed into the metal below -- a small price to regain the feeling in my wrists.

She fetched a cup of water and returned to bed.

The cage stayed locked. I spent the night there, naked and alone, while the pair slept blissfully, wrapped in each other's arms.