Pet Project

"Do not look at anyone. Do not talk to anyone. If you're unsure, you need only look to me for direction. Do not disappoint me, Pet."

Over and over, those words replayed themselves in Pet's mind— a whole lot of instructions, but not a single word on what to expect. Surely being paraded around a room of perverts isn't that bad? Besides, Pet was in no particular rush to disappoint the master. The last fuck up that she made saw her handing from the rafters and standing on her tippy-toes. For hours.

Like a trained Terrier, she's heard a lot of commands over the duration of the evening; things like sit, stay, speak. She'd been waiting to hear fetch, roll-over, and play dead for hours now.

Woof-motherfucker-woof!

The sharp tug on her nipples informed her that she might have said that last part out loud. Oops. But fuck, doesn't she deserve some sort of shame-outlet? She'd always been the type of person to make light of any given situation, so naturally she'd want to laugh at herself— lest she lose her sanity.

She'd been kidnapped, beaten, and had vile things done to her body. What's one more thing piled on to the humiliation list? The scant clothing she was ordered to wear was quickly becoming the least of her problems at this point; like the chained nipple clamps that the master is using as a leash for instance. Those things fucking burn.

So to prevent another painful tug, Pet kneeled at the master's side quietly while he enjoyed his dinner and chatted to the other perverts at the table. Kneeling next to her was a woman named Project who had quickly became her friend in a time of great confusion. Project was the master's pride and joy; if the way his eyes lit up whenever she was around was any indication. Although, it was funny that Project is here on the leash of another man named Ronan; the master's head of security or something or other.

So many names, so many faces, so many orders to do this or that and Pet's head was absolutely swimming. Thoughts of her own commanding family came to mind and Pet just barely managed to keep the bubble of hysteria down— just barely. She wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for her bastard of an, in her mind, ex-fiancé. And her parents? Fuck them. Daddy Dearest would do anything to ensure his business deals worked out and Mommy Dearest would do anything to make Daddy happy, so they didn't protest to sending her to "obedience school." Meaning over the border and under duress, she received words of praise when she did well, but punishment when she fucked up.

See. Like a trained Terrier.

Once dinner had finally come to an end, Pet experienced a flash of panic when someone mentioned entertainment. Her eyes fluttered around the room and took in the stage area for the guests' viewing pleasure. Her body stiffened, her breathing became rapid, and sweat started to bead in the most uncomfortable of places.

"Don't worry, Pet." The master's warm breath against her ear caused her to jump. "You won't be performing tonight." But despite this information, she couldn't calm her racing pulse. Performing? What the fuck does he mean by performing?

"Come." The command came with a sharp tug and the master led her to a chair in direct view of the stage and the rest of the room as well. She was about to kneel down as he took his seat, but found herself pulled onto his lap instead. Embarrassment burned her cheeks as he positioned her legs on either side of his and pulled her down until her back rested against his chest.

Nothing like being spread eagle in crotch-less panties.

The cool air against her sex wasn't helping as she burned with shame— you could ask anyone who truly knew her; words like puritan or prig were understatements when it came to describing her when it came to anything sexual. Women's lib and all that. It's ironic that she had always refused to be nothing more than a sexual object to any man, but just look at her now. Obedience school, indeed. She thought bitterly as she watched a contraption— worthy of center stage in any torture chamber— was rolled out. It sort of reminded Pet of a guillotine on stilts, minus the blade of course, and instead of a flat platform it looked like two side by side padded sawhorses.

Pet was absolutely stunned as Project was lead on stage by Ronan, followed by Faolan, Conall, and Kelan; the rest of the master's security team. What the fuck? "You see, Project was such a good student during her training, offering her complete submission that I decided to keep her for myself. Do you think that sort of gift is common nowadays?" Unsure if that was meant to be a rhetorical question, Pet didn't answer. She'd just managed to control a shiver when the master chuckled deeply in her ear. "You are here, Pet, because someone in your life felt that you needed to be disciplined. My Project is obedient to a fault, just like you will be. Now you, like many other strong willed women, might be thinking: if Project is yours, why is she here with another? Well, she is here with another because I commanded it so. Project will do as I say, regardless of what it is and you will learn to do so as well." The playful air that the master was putting out, quickly left him in his next words, "But if you refuse to learn, I'll just beat it out of you."

Disgusting. The lot of them.

So, Pet bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood and said nothing, keeping her eyes forward and trying to ignore the master's growing hard on under her— a hard on that only appeared once Project's ass started getting paddled on stage. The woman was bent over one side of the contraption, moaning loudly as all four men with individual paddles took their turns at unleashing their wills on the woman. Pet watched in part horror and part fascination as Project started undulating as if begging for more. "Keep your eyes on my Project." The master said with a tone full of pride. "You might find that you enjoy what you see."

Project took blow-after-blow and the woman's face was a look of intense pleasure; Pet was stunned when she heard the woman's soft chanting of 'pleasepleasepleaseplease!' What was she asking for? Pet thought to herself. Is she saying please stop? Please more? Please what? Her inner thoughts were interrupted as she felt the master's hands start to caress her. A flutter of heat started to grow in her belly that she struggled to ignore. I cannot possibly be turned on by this!

This is wrong. Forbidden. Taboo. Wasn't it? Well, if that's the case then goodbye prude, hello slut-puppy. Pet could not deny that her reluctance was melting faster than her cunt could drip.

Paddling now done, the flutter grew into a fury of sensations as Pet watched the men position Project on the contraption. Kneeling with her legs strapped to each of the padded sawhorses, leaving Project to support her weight completely on her shins. Naked and spread eagle with her arms stretched high and secured above her head. Project, despite the blindfold she was now wearing and her body tighter than a bow string, looked blissed-the-fuck-out.

Pet's pussy started to cream when Faolan and Conall took either side of Project; the men lavishing attention on each breast. From where she sat, she could see Faolan suckling Project's right nipple while Conall was giving teasing flicks of his tongue to her left. Pet startled when the master started showing some T.L.C to her own. What started out as a candle flame quickly turned into a raging inferno when the master removed the nipple clamps; rubbing her tender peaks and she had to fight the moan that threatened to leave her. I cannot be turned on by this! She mentally shouted at herself. Oh, but the man started to flick and tweak her nipples with a slow intensity that had Pet dripping in her crotch-less panties; her hips moving at their own volition. She dropped her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes at the feeling.

Pet opened her eyes to turn back to the stage and gasped at the show that Project was starring in. Faolan and Conall were still licking and sucking, but Kelan and Ronan had joined the party. Ronan was eating her pussy like a starving man with a one track-minded fervor, while Kelan was licking at Pet's forbidden bud— four men, four places of pleasure, and one lucky bitch. But damn what a sight they made. Pet nearly frowned at her thoughts, but instead gave in to what the master was making her body demand. She nearly shot off of his lap when she felt a finger against her clit and she moaned in arousal.

"Look around the room, Pet." The master whispered softly. Pet opened her eyes distractedly to follow his command and noticed that other masters were also engaged in different degrees of sexual acts with their subs. Pet also noticed that there wasn't a single set of eyes that weren't riveted to what was happening in front of the room.

Wicked thoughts started to filter through her mind. What would it feel like to be in Project's place? What would it feel like to receive that much stimulation all at once? Delicious? Decadent? Intense? Overwhelming? Project. Oh, the woman was truly beautiful. Petite. Slender. Soft. Pet started to wonder what Project's sex would taste like. Would she be as sweet as she looked? Images of her face buried in Project's snatch overtook her as she moan at the feel of the master rubbing at her swollen clit.

"That's it, Pet." He crooned to her. "Just let yourself go."

"Please! Please, Sir! Please, may I cum?" Project shouted, drawing Pet's eyes back up front. She chanted the words, begging, and pleading. Ronan had spoken softly, not loud enough for Pet to hear. Suddenly, all four men sipped at Project's body at a frenzied pace, Ronan had pushed two fingers into Project's cunt; thrusting hard while still wildly licking at her clit.

Project's body went absolutely still.

And it seemed the audience had taken a collective breath and held it; as if waiting for some grand finale.

Just as the master gently brought Pet to her release, Project exploded— violently. Her movements jerking, head thrashing as she tried to fuck the faces both in her pussy and her ass, while trying to push her breasts closer to the men suckling at her. She screamed loudly, in absolute abandon. Without warning, Project's body started to gush with liquid; soaking Ronan who had lifted his face from Project's clit, now thrusting his digits into her body at a lazy pace. The men petted and caressed Project's body, bringing her down from her release.

Pet panted weakly, overwhelmed from everything and whispered, "Thank you, Master."

*.*.*

Project stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. She absentmindedly dried herself off, completely lost in her thoughts. Over the years, this house had become her home and the man whom the house belonged to had become her lover, her best friend, but most importantly her Master. He always provided everything that she needed. Well, in truth, she didn't have a single want or need in the world— all thanks to Master. Before he found her, she had been kicked out of the system with no family, nowhere to go, and no means to survive. Many of events had taken place that caused Project to land in his possession. In the beginning, she had been terrified of the brooding man, but quickly learned that her obedience and her ultimate submission would get her everywhere.

Project hung her towel back on the rack and went to her vanity. She didn't dress herself since Master had not given her any instructions to do so. Picking up her hairbrush, she started to take care of her wild locks.

"Good afternoon, Project." A shiver made its way down Project's spine at the sound of Master's voice. She placed her hairbrush down on the vanity and turned to where he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. She presented him a large smile. Without instruction needed, Project stood and padded to him on silent feet. As she approached, she couldn't help but run her eyes over his delicious frame. Master is very tall compared to Project; at least 6'3" with a wide and muscular build to him. His size plus his rugged features make him an imposing figure indeed— and Project was in love with every single inch of him. Kneeling once she reached him, she placed her hands in her lap, lest she reach for him without permission.

"Good afternoon, Master. I missed you." And she truly had. She knew that Master was a very busy man and wasn't always able to spend his entire days with her. She had seen him last night, but she had attended the event with the head of Master's security, Ronan, because Master was still training Pet. Master ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair before resting his palm against her cheek. Project couldn't help but close her eyes and nuzzle him, loving the contact, craving his warmth.

"Come." He said as he drops his hand from her cheek and held it out to her. Project did not hesitate to place her hand in his. She would follow him into hell if he asked her to. He led her back to the vanity that he had provided for her and guided her to sit with her back to his front. Project looked down at all the things that Master had provided for her that are sitting atop the vanity, like neutral colored make-up, light perfumes, and jewelry— things that she didn't have before she came to be with him. He picked up her brush and started to gently brush away the remaining tangles from her hair. "Look at me while I do this, Project."

"Yes, Master." She lifted her gaze to his and held it. Her breath caught as she watched his movements; the way he took care to not hurt her as he brushed her hair tenderly. Oh, how she loved him so. They were silent for a long while as he took care of her and that was okay. She always enjoyed every moment that she could have with Master.

"Project, did you enjoy the party last night?" He asked distractedly.

"Yes, Master." She answered him in a soft voice. She had been very surprised when Ronan had retrieved her last night instead of Master. Master had never left her in the hands of any of his men before, especially at one of his gatherings. Of course she did as he commanded, but it was certainly out of the ordinary. Despite her confusion, she knew that Ronan was only there on Master's orders and she had acted accordingly.

"Good." He said as he put her brush down on the vanity and placed both hands on her bare shoulders. "You deserve a reward for performing so well, Project."

"Thank you for brushing my hair, Master." Project said as she covered his hands with her own. "And I will be very grateful for anything you decide to give me."

"Good girl." Master said tenderly before steeling his voice. "Go to your spot."

*.*.*

The petite woman made her way slowly to her spot next to the bed and Quinn knew she was fighting the urge to run there. His Project was always so zealous for both her punishments and her rewards. On graceful legs, she sank to her knees and placed her hands upon her lap. He waited for a moment to see if she would correct herself, but she did not. The thought to reprimand her came to mind, but decided against it. He knew it was because she was too excited for him.

He tsk'd at her and shook his head. "What do we do with our hands, Project? You should know better than that." He knew the moment she realized her mistake when color crept its way over her cheeks. Her body slumped slightly as if disappointed in herself before she straightened and made the corrections. So beautiful, his Project was. He thought back on the eighteen year old girl who came into his care a few years ago; shy, wide-eyed, modest, and full of anxiety. Now in her place was a woman who had grown confident and eager right before his very eyes.

Quinn ambled across the room and opened the top drawer of Project's dresser— his drawer to be exact, that held various toys, lubes, and other instruments to choose from. He pulled out the things he would need and made his way back to where Project patiently waited for him. Placing the items on the bed, he stood before Project and ran a hand down her cheek again. Satisfaction swept through him when she nuzzled against his palm with her eyes closed— something she always did. He allowed her to soak up his form of affection before taking it away.

"You know what to do." He stated simply. He watched as Project slowly unzipped his jeans and carefully pulled him out of the restraining material and sat back on her haunches, putting her hands behind her back once again. "May I taste you, Master?" She asked him in a soft voice. He almost smiled at that moment. She knew better than to take initiative without asking first.

"Yes, you may." Despite his permission, Project simply rose higher on her knees and opened her mouth. Good girl, Quinn thought as he tangled one hand in her hair. "Tongue out, Project." He said gruffly as he gave her a weak tap on her jaw in reprimand and she obeyed him immediately. Taking his cock in his free hand, he traced the tip against her tongue letting her have a small taste of him. He could feel more than see the slight strain of her body fighting to get closer, knowing she wanted more. He continued to tease just the tip of his cock against her tongue, while holding her head in place. Once he felt that was enough, he plunged himself past her lips and straight to her throat. He didn't give her time to adjust to his size and he set almost a cruel pace. But he knew that's what she truly wanted— because above all else, Project wanted to please him.

In and out he slid his dick, watching as saliva started to drip out of her mouth and onto the floor. He had trained her not to gag long ago, but she still couldn't help tearing up whenever she took him to the root. He allowed her that, because he found the sight of her tears and spit flowing unchecked to be extremely erotic. He also trained her to keep her eyes on him at all times and his Project never disappointed.

He plunged himself deep and stayed there, closing his eyes to the sensation for a moment before pulling out again. Without a sound or protest, Project took whatever he gave her. Over and over, he alternated between fast and slow, shallow and deep, until he felt she had enough. He could have allowed himself to cum at that moment, but he did not because he relished the feeling of pain— no matter what form it came in.

"On the bed." He commanded without further instruction. She knew what was expected of her. Project did so; cautious of the things that he had placed there earlier. He would have tanned her ass if any of the items had fallen to the floor. Arms stretched above her head, hands gripping the bars of the metal headboard and knees bent splayed wide open to him; she was certainly a sight to see. He slowly walked around the bed, running his hands over her in the slightest of touches; her nipples puckered, goose bumps rose over every inch of her body, and already her sweet pussy glistened with desire. Around and around he went, avoiding all of her erogenous zones.

He wanted her in a state of painful arousal.

Stopping at the head of the bed, he reached over the short metal headboard and lightly placed the fingertips of both his hands on the outside of her hips. He slowly ran his fingers from hip to wrist, testing her urge to squirm against the ticklish sensations. Back and forth, up and down, over and over again he did this and Project did not disappoint. After a few minutes, he changed his course. Instead of her sides, he did this on the front of her body— from her soft mound, over her belly, between her breasts and up to her neck. Her breathing changed, her body stiffened, but no matter how ticklish he knew her to be, she did not move nor did a single sound escape her.

So much discipline he taught his Project. After at least twenty minutes of this, he finally stopped. "Very good, Project. You may moan all you want and you may close your eyes while I pleasure you from this point on as a reward, but you may not move. Understood?"