I started a new thread so I could tag it. Original thread is here: https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/15167.html#15186

I'm using the name KittyBoy because of the suggestion that I call these folks "pets". I've written out the first chapter- not a lot happens, it's mostly set-up.

Notes: I got the name "Cupcake" off a cat name generator.

Chapter 1

Cupcake was excited. He sat on his master's lap, playing with the fabric of his shirt, trying to force himself to keep his attention on the screen in front of him. He was supposed to be helping- perhaps more than helping, perhaps actually working this out himself. And he wanted to- had every intention of actually doing it- but he had already looked over all the information, and he found the review boring.

They were all cute enough, but none of them really stood out- they couldn't be expected to, really. Cupcake had experience and a bond that had taken years to form, an identity that he had carved out for himself. It was ridiculous to expect someone so young and, in his opinion, stupid, to step in and fill the niche he had created. He didn't envy them.

His mind kept wandering to his eventual death; the thing that actually generated excitement. His master had asked him what he wanted, but he wasn't sure... All he knew was that he wanted to be immortalized, to be preserved. He wanted some part of him to stay here, in this house, so that whatever new pet his master got would know that he had been here before, that he was irreplacable, that he was the first.

He was leaning toward taxidermy, but if he did that, he wanted to be in perfect shape for it. He wanted to look so good that it would be impossible to live up to. He thought that he was already close- he had had years of tight waisting that molded him into a shape that was so nearly perfect he had come to rely on the corset for support. He couldn't even stand or support himself without it, but he never took it off because why in the world would anyone do that? The results were more than worth the negligeable trade-off.

He felt a sudden tightening around the head of his cock, where it was held prone by the cage, and arched his back, instinctively thrusting out his chest. He grabbed at the back of his chair and spread his legs to give his master better access.

"You're not paying attention," his master warned, and Cupcake giggled.

"I'm sorry, master," he sighed, and slid one hand from the back of the chair to cup his face, "I just... I feel so sorry for you."

"Why is that, pet?" His master asked as he slid his hand slowly down the shaft, caressing the skin between the straps as Cupcake's erection fought against them.

"Because," Cupcake explained, but he lost his train of thought and his whole body went rigid as his master's hand closed around his balls. They were stretched away from his body by the collar attached to the leather cock-cage, and kept extra sensitive by years of abuse, and by the fun things his master brought him- creams that you rub on, drugs that you inject or swallow- things in food or drinks that he had never even known about. Now they were swollen and beautiful, but even the slight grazing or restriction of clothing hurt- actual pressure shot through him like real electricity, and his muscles seized as if he had really been shocked.

His master chuckled deep in his chest, and squeezed.

Cupcake had never tried not to scream or cry- his master liked it. He had told him that he was allowed to beg, to ask for anything. It wouldn't always be granted, but he could always ask. Cupcake was happy that his master still loved him, still liked his reactions, still desired them enough to play with him, and thought of how well trained he had been, how close they were- and wondered if it would be possible to make his balls look swollen or bruised after he had been stuffed. He would ask about it later, after the pain was over and he could trust himself to speak again.

Eventually, the pain did stop- he was sore, but the electricity died down, and his chest unseized enough for him to breath. He took as deep a breath as he could with the comforting hold of the corset, and it came out as a sob that sounded beautiful against the jingling of his collar.

"You're gorgeous when you cry," his master said, wiping a tear from his cheek, and Cupcake smiled at him, and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, master."

"Now, finish your sentences," His master told him, as he rested his hands on his inner thighs and held them open. Cupcake snuggled into his chest and held the position perfectly.

"Oh," he said, trying to remember what they had been talking about, and glanced at the screen. Right! All the boys- his replacement that he was supposed to find. "I was thinking about how sorry I felt for you- having to train someone new, to start all over, after you seemed so happy with me. Part of me doesn't want to leave you."

"It isn't your fault, darling," his master assured him. "I know you would stay with me forever, if you could. Believe me, I have cherished our time together. But no one can live forever. Is that what's distracting you? Guilt?"

"A little bit," Cupcake confessed, and rested his weight on his thighs, on the arms of the office chair, as his master held him by one hand around his slim waist. He heard the sound of a zipper, and giggled again.

"Maybe this will help you focus," his master suggested, and Cupcake leaned forward to open his favorite desk drawer. The lube inside wasn't his favorite- it burned more than 'heated', which is what it advertized- but he couldn't let his master go in dry. That was a good way for his master to get hurt as much as he did. So he balanced as his master held him by a waist so small his hands nearly engulfed it, and spread a thin layer on his cock. He wasn't /exactly/ finished when his master bucked up at the same time he shoved Cupcake down, but he was close enough- as close as he was going to get.

He filled him perfectly, as if he had been designed for it- and in a way, he had. He had been trained since his coming-of-age on his master's dick in particular, and now he felt empty without it. Sometimes they would just sit like this, without fucking. His master had a perfect replica made that he sometimes kept inside him for hours, until he had become accustomed, until he felt empty, naked, and unsatisfied without it. Until he had formed an addiction.

"Does that feel better, my little cumdumpster?" His master asked, moving one had from his waist to his hair, to force him backward, to cuddle the back of his head.

"So much better," Cupcake purred, "Thank you, master."

"I almost named you that," His master said, as if he had been overcome with nostalgia. "Cumdumpster."

"I remember," Cupcake giggled. He didn't like how sad his master got when he brough up memories of their early life. It made him think that he might be sad that he was going to die, that he really would miss him. Cupcake didn't want that- he wanted him to remember how good he had been, all the fun they had had together. He wanted to be a happy memory.

So he suggested, "Maybe you can name your new pet 'Cumdumpster'."

"I don't know," his master sighed, "It's kind of cliche. And not that cute." After a beat he continued, "I'm going to miss you."

"You'll feel better when you get a new pet," Cupcake promised, and ground down, trying to get as much of his master inside of him as he could.

"No one will ever replace you," his master promised, and nibbled at his ear.

Cupcake giggled.

"But I know I can't go without... if I pick one out, I'm afraid I won't take care of it. It'll wind up like a rent boy- just something for me to take my..." he was going to say 'grief out on', but it was stupid to grieve a pet. He knew when he got Cupcake that he wouldn't live forever. He knew he would have to put him down eventually. He had never really intended to like him as much as he did. "Something I might kill. If you pick it out, I think it'll have a better chance."

"Ok." Cupcake leaned forward and looked at the screen, apparently satisfied that he was as full as he was going to get. "They all just look so... stupid."

"All young pets are stupid, darling," his master reminded him, absentmindedly running a hand up and down his bound shaft, enjoying the sensation of it pulsating against his skin, feeling the blood moving through it. "They have to be trained. You weren't bought knowing everything you know now."

"I just hate for you to go through that all again," Cupcake sighed, flicking through picture after picture. He remembered the name on the top of the site he was looking at. It was the same breeding center he had come from all those years ago. He wondered how it had changed.

He stopped on a photo of a boy with the biggest, darkest eyes he had ever seen outside of his own face. The more he looked, the more the boy looked like him. Maybe they were the same strain? If they were, it would probably help his master to have another one, someone so similar. It wouldn't be as big of an adjustment.

The stats meant nothing to him, and pets didn't have names before their masters gave them- the breeding centers used numbers. All Cupcake really understood was the picture.

So all he could really say was, "This one looks cute."

"He really does," his master agreed. "You like him?"

"I like him more than the others," Cupcake shrugged, and brought his legs from where they rested over the arms of the chair to the floor. In this new position, he was bent over the desk with his master still buried inside him- and he was hoping his master would get the hint.

He did, and there was mock anger in his voice as he stood and began to thrust.

"Maybe I shouldn't spoil the next one."