Saving Leah

Rylan

Rylan's POV

I let out a deep sigh as I pull my keys out of the ignition. I look up at the pet facility with a frown. I have visited this facility many times and every trip has been as unsuccessful as the last.

Ever since I was of age, I have been looking for a submissive to call my own. Regardless of the countless trips or miles I've traveled to visit facilities near and far, none of the submissives I have looked at seemed right for me.

I want a girl who wants to obey and wants to be a good girl, my good girl. It's hard to find that quality though in a submissive who can also be a good partner to me in life. Very often, facility submissives are too timid, or too aggressive with very little in between.

Surprisingly, it has also been hard to find a submissive who is in my desired age range. I need a submissive who is able to have children and wants many. Children are an important to me and some submissives aren't interested in sharing their dominant with little ones.

I guess I waited too long to look for a submissive because all the young ones have already been snatched up this year.

My fellow coworkers have submissives of their own and I see how the perfect mix between being a submissive's master and friend, creates a happy and healthy bond. Why can't I find someone who wants to share that with me?

I don't want to go inside. I don't want to be disappointed again. I'm so tired of giving my hopes up. I keep telling myself that this time it's going to be it, I'm finally going to meet her, but I am losing hope.

What if my expectations are too high?

What if she simply doesn't exist and I've been searching for a ghost?

What if I met her a long time ago and passed her up in my foolishness?

I can't indulge such thoughts, I know if I never take risks, I'll never find her.

The door rings when I open it, the bell hanging above me jangling softly. A young fellow dominant greets me at the door, anxious for the business I more than likely won't be giving them today. She shows me around as if I haven't been here before which is both irritating and gracious of her.

"The cages with green dots on the tags hold the girls who are in your desired age group. I'll let you browse a little, so let me know if you need any help!"

Once she leaves, I kneel next to the cage closest to me. I smile sadly at the frightened girl huddled up in the back. She doesn't see my smile though because she is staring down at the floor. She is shaking like a leaf and I sigh in frustration, already losing hope that I will find my submissive. "What's your name?" Just as expected, she doesn't answer me. I don't bother to look at her tag and check her name.

I want a submissive I can talk with, not just talk to.

Walking down the aisle, I see a girl is sitting up against the bars. Her blue eyes stare up at me and I smile at her. She has very pretty eyes and I like that she can look me in the eye, most submissives can't, which makes establishing a relationship hard.

As I get closer to her though, I see the scowl marring her face, causing me to pause in my excitement. I don't give up all the way though. Maybe she just doesn't expect me to be nice?

"What's your name?" I ask gently, kneeling next to her cage.

"Fuck you!" I nod, standing up. Okay, maybe not. I run a hand over my face in frustration. My hand finds the back of my neck and I drop my arms to my side.

I walk down the aisles for a while, only talking to a few submissives who are all very nice, but don't have the spark I was looking for. "Thanks for coming in," the lady in the front tells me as I walk out the door. I nod and wave heading towards my car. Pulling my keys from my pocket I unlock my car and slide in.

I groan in frustration, resting my forehead on my steering wheel.

Another failed attempt to find my submissive.

My phone bings on the coffee table again and I glance over at it before putting down the slice of pizza in my hand.

Troy: I'm outside. Let me in.

I sigh, heaving my sorry ass off the couch to open the door. Troy walks in with his submissive without permission, taking a seat on my couch. Pulling his submissive onto his lap, he picks up the box of pizza I picked up for myself and begins to feed himself and his submissive.

I stand at the door, watching Troy carefully feed his submissive as he kisses her face and neck. He says something to her which I'm not listening to and she laughs before replying, making them both grin.

She smiles at him and slides off his lap taking the pizza with her. I wallow in my self-pity, watching them interact for a little bit before dragging my feet over to my sofa and eating my pizza.

"What do you want?" I ask solemnly.

"I want, you to stop throwing yourself a pity party every time you don't find her," Troy replies easily. His submissive gives him a death glare which he shrugs off. "What?"

She rolls her eyes playfully and snuggles into his side, "You will find her one day and you will be so glad you didn't settle for anything less," Melissa comforts. I nod in agreement and sigh, knowing she is right.

Those 'pet shops' and training facilities are nothing compared to the luxuries I will provide my submissive with, along with all of my love and affection.

I sigh contently, putting down my pizza just thinking about all the ways I will pamper and treat her.

==============================================================================

I pull on my police uniform. Fixing my collar and pulling on my boots, I head out towards my cop car.

Pulling out of the driveway, I crank up the heat. It's a little past midnight and my several hours of patrol just started.

After driving around for a little while, something cracks through the radio. I have to turn it up, the crackling of the radio making words less decipherable. "Rylan, we have a 644 and request your immediate presence on 5th Nord Ave and Banks. Do you copy?"

Immediately, adrenaline flows through me as I flip on the sirens and lights and speed through town. "Copy. I'm heading over now." 644 is used to describe someone being held hostage at gunpoint.

I speed through town, running red lights trying to get to where dispatch needs me. "Shots have been fired. The suspect has released the hostage. It is unclear if the hostage has been hit. Dispatch we need back up."

I fly over the road, reaching 90 miles per hour. "Hostage has lost consciousness," someone reports. I pull up with the ambulance, flying out of the car as I see my coworkers struggling to detain the suspect.

The Sergeant redirects me though, making me pause. I turn, squinting to see the small figure on the ground beside the trees.

It takes me a moment to realize it's a girl. We make eye contact for a second before she bolts.