Pup (Bratt)

Chapter Thirty: Matt, the Mosaic

Matt's nights were filled with nightmares.

He woke up often, tears on his face, breathing heavy and ragged. It was like when he had left Sterling the first time, and his dreams were often from those two years spent in hell.

This night, he slid from bed, grabbing his crutches and leaving his master who was still asleep, breathing deep and even. He was terrified, and he couldn't just stay in bed with such a full mind.

"You have to obey." Sterling hissed. "If you don't obey me, we will do this again. If you don't swallow when I come in your mouth, I will throat fuck you again. If you don't comply when I'm fucking you, I will do it again, harder. Do you understand, dog? You're my slut, and you need to start acting like it."

Matt just bowed his head, whispering, "Yes, Master."

"Good." Sterling said, then he secured the blindfold around Matt's eyes. "We are going to do this again. It will not be gentle, nor will it be pleasurable for you. Get in your headspace."

Matt whimpered, "S-Sir, can't I stay out of my headspace? I d-don't like it when you punish me this way in my headspace, and-"

"You're not supposed to like it. It's a punishment."

Slowly, Matt complied.

Matt frowned, going into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. He tried to clear his head, fingers going to the collar on his neck, toying with the hoop for the leash.

He needed to stop thinking about it, he needed to forget about Sterling and his entire experience there. He sipped his water, going to the back door and slipping outside.

The night was pleasantly cool, surprising, given that winter was just around the corner. Matt drank in the moon, the stars, the trees and grass, trying to push Sterling out of his mind.

"You are not a human." Sterling told him. "You are just a filthy, rotten bitch. You're not a good dog, you're a bad one. Got it?"

Matt did not reply at first. His arms were tied above his head, and his legs were forced apart. He could not see a thing, only feel the sharp, hot sting as Sterling drove into him. He could not believe this was happening. A mere three weeks earlier, Sterling had been so soft with him, so gentle. Where was that? Matt did not like this.

He yelped as Sterling smacked his face, pain spreading across his cheek. "Y-Yes, sir!" he whimpered, "Yes, sir!"

"Good." Sterling murmured. When he came, he left Matt there, something that had never happened to Matt before. The blood on the insides of his thighs was sticky and uncomfortable, and his ass throbbed with pain from not being prepped at all.

Matt hissed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He needed to stop thinking about this. He limped through Brian's property to the pond, sitting down at one of the benches around its perimeter. His side ached and his whole body throbbed. He let out a shaky sigh.

"You know, I doubt I'll ever let you come again."

As if Matt ever would. Still, his cock was locked painfully tight in the cock cage, and Sterling hadn't made him hard in months. His hands were tied behind his back, his cheek pressed into the floor, ass in the air.

Sterling was whipping him, instead of thin, leather tails, like it had when Sterling had bought it, he had tied bits of sharp metal to the end of the tails, which tore into Matt's back with each crack. Matt bit into his lip, eyes clenched tight, breathing heavily. He appreciated pain, yes, but this was too much, far too much. Blood ran down his side and dripped onto the floor. The butt plug he was wearing sometimes shocked him, which caused him to yelp in pain. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.