Chapter 5

"He's not as cute as Cupcake," John said, looking at the pet dangling from his arm restraints.

"Have you ever thought that that obsession of yours may be unhealthy?" Charlie asked, and grabbed the pet by his short hair. He took in his blank expression, and said loudly, "Wake up, slut!"

When the pet didn't move, he reared back and slapped him in the face so hard that had he not been holding him by the hair, he would have gone spinning. The pet blinked, and a few tears rolled down his cheeks at the effort. He still seemed a little stunned and hazy when he spoke, and his words were garbled by the gag.

"Let's get this off," Charlie suggested, and reached behind him to tug at the leather strap keeping it secured.  

He pulled the gag slowly, and the pet was obviously not used to controlling his gag reflex yet, because John watched him seize several times before the entire dildo was removed. The pet coughed, tried to wipe his mouth on his shoulder, and with a raspy, parched voice, finally spoke.

"Thank you, master," He said to Charlie, and smiled at him, then turned his attention to John.

"Hello, little pet," John said, and tilted his face up with one finger.

"It's... nice to meet you, sir." The pet stared up at him, and John ran his thumb over the trail his tears had created down his cheek.

"Did you have a good night?" John asked him.

"I... I... think I learned?" The pet replied, "I... thank you for... talking to me and... thank you both for... letting me out."

"It takes you a long time to say anything," Charlie said, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, master," The pet pleaded, "It's... hard to... my throat... doesn't want to work. Can I please... I'm thirsty."

"He's thirsty," John repeated, as if he thought Charlie may not have heard him.

"Well, let's fix that. I think he's been good enough that he deserves a small reward, don't you think? Even if he's not as pretty as your precious pet." Charlie unclasped the arm binder from the wall of the box (while John rolled his eyes), and said to the pet, "Get on your knees for us. Be a good boy."

The pet nodded and lowered himself to his knees.

"You go first, Johnny; you're the guest," he said, motioning to the pet on the ground.

John stepped forward, undid the button on his pants, and slowly pulled down the zipper. The pet stared up at him in reverence, leaned forward in anticipation, and stuck out his tongue before John even managed to get his dick out. When he did present it, the pet immediately wrapped his lips around the head, staring up at John with gratitude, and began to suck.

"No, sweetheart, no," John softly petted the boy's short hair, "Just swallow. Try not to spill it."

The pet's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but once the hot piss hit his tongue, it was obvious that he understood. He made a muffled noise of confirmation that said as much, and swallowed as soon as his mouth was full. John went slowly- the pet was new, and he stared up at him with those big wet eyes that said: /I'm trying. Are you proud of me?/- therefore it took him quite a while, with a few pauses so the pet could swallow, before he was finished.

"Now suck," he explained, "Just make sure you get all of it- I need to be clean when I put it back in my pants."

The pet gave him another muffled, "yes, sir" and did exactly that. He didn't know to lick around the pisshole, like an experienced pet would, and John gently tugged his hair to get his attention.

"Think about it, sweetheart," he explained, "Lick it clean."

The pet changed tactics instantly, and whined when John pulled out of his mouth.

"Thank you so much, sir!" The pet looked close to tears again, "I was so thirsty."

"That was pretty good, for a first try," John scratched the pet's scalp. "Good boy."

"Was it?" Charlie asked him, "It took forever. I don't know that I would call that 'good'."

John sighed and moved aside before Charlie shoved him. Charlie moved much faster, but still his new pet bounced eagerly on his knees, and happily wrapped his lips around his master's dick. His eyes widened in alarm, and John knew what Charlie was doing.

"Breath through your nose," John told the pet, and he seemed to try, but he just couldn't keep up. He stared up at Charlie with tears spilling from his eyes, and John watched his chest seize. Eventually, the pet failed.

He coughed around Charlie's dick, and two streams of piss began to trinkle from either side of his lips.

"Swollow," Charlie reminded him, harshly, and the pet tried, but his body was convulsing, and it was obvious that he couldn't breath. John wanted a cigarette. This was getting on his nerves. It was a waste of a perfectly good pet. He was going to drown in the first five minutes.

To his surprize, eventually Charlie pulled out, and the pet leaned forward, looking panicked, staring at the playroom floor as piss dripped from his mouth and down his chest. He coughed, spasmed, but, to his credit, didn't pass out.

"That was pathetic," Charlie huffed, "Look at the mess."

"You have to /train/ them," John reminded him, and his tone was almost scolding when he said, "This is why you can't keep nice things."

"He has to be trained to drink?" Charlie asked, as if the notion was ridiculous, "That's unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, master," The pet was crying again, and had pressed his forehead to the floor, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me!" He was sobbing at the idea that he had upset his master over something so simple, and John glared at Charlie.

"Well, I guess I need to clean him up," Charlie huffed, and grabbed the pet by the binder to drag him over to the shower area. The pet hadn't stopped sobbing and apologizing, and as much as John wanted to like him, the childish behavior irked him.  

Charlie threw him down in the area, which was no different from the rest of the playroom, apart from the drain in the floor and the hose attached to the tile wall- playrooms were generally wet/dry to provide easy cleanup.

"Take the binder off," John suggested, "that's all he's wearing. It makes spraying him down so much easier if he's naked and can help."

The pet looked up at John like he didn't understand why he was showing him kindness he didn't deserve, and when Charlie moved to honor the suggestion, he began to cry again, but it was the kind of crying that John recognized. It was no longer the shrill, annoying crying of whatever emotion pets felt when they knew they had messed up, but the sweet, soft crying of gratitude, of love.

"Thank you, master," he said in hushed revelry.

"Just be good," Charlie huffed, tossed the binder aside, and stood.  

The pet slowly stretched out his freed arms; they were sore and tingled a little from being bound all night, and he winced when he moved them. Before he had worked the stiffness out of them, Charlie turned the hose on him, and the high-pressure, ice cold water knocked him to his side. He let out a surprized shriek, and it carried him to the tile wall, where he tried to arrange himself so that his back would be to the source of the water. He braced his forehead on his arms to avoid slamming it into the wall, and giggled once he got himself situated. He gave a happy, surprized yelp as the powerful stream hit his ass, and giggled again.

"Spread your ass open," Charlie ordered, and the pet reached one arm behind himself to obey- then let out a loud moan of pleasure.

John was smiling despite himself.

Charlie switched off the water and commanded, "Now turn around."

"I would hold my breath, sweetheart," John warned, but the pet didn't have time to follow this advice before the icy jet of water hit him full in the face. John watched him flail and sputter, but Charlie didn't keep it there long enough to drown him.

"Spread your legs," Charlie shouted over the stream, and the pet did- then screamed and clawed at the wall behind him as the torrent hit his sensitive dick and swollen balls.

"There," Charlie said to John, "He's clean."

"More or less," John agreed.

"Thank you, master," the pet choked out, and spit up some of the water that had lodged itself in his lungs.

"Get on your hands and knees," Charlie told him, and the pet obeyed instantly. "Now piss- it's your only chance. Make sure you get it down the drain."

The pet looked confused, "Oh, I... didn't know i could... when my dick was hard?" He said in his adorable, innocent voice.

"You can sweetheart, just try very hard," John explained.

"Don't touch it," Charlie warned, when the pet moved to point his dick at the drain.

"Oh, um... Yes, master," The pet was still confused, and he didn't think he could do what he was supposed to without touching his dick. It wasn't at the right angle, and he would piss all over his stomach. "Master?"

"What is it, slut?" Charlie asked.

"I'm sorry," the pet looked up at him with worry in those pretty eyes, "I don't know how."

"Do you really want to have to hose him down again?" John asked.

"Fuck it, fine, you can hold it, but just this once. This is the last time you're ever going to piss anyway, so it's not like it's worth learning how to do it right." Charlie surrendered.

"Thank you so much, master," the pet stared up at him with sparkling, grateful eyes and a beautiful smile, then turned his attention to the drain with a look of concentration, aimed, and let loose a slow, deliberate, trinkle of piss from his hard little dick. He winced in pain and seemed to be deliberately avoiding the places where the surgical glue lingered, but he looked up when he was finished, and seemed so proud of himself that John's reluctant smile became much more genuine.

He even let out a little laugh as a course towel hit him in the face. Charlie had noticed that he finally looked happy to play with a pet other than Cupcake, and had teased him by tossing it while he was distracted.

"You want to dry him off?" Charlie asked.

"Sure, why not?" John's smile was small, but it was real.