Family Pet

Bailey's eyes lit up at the thought of her own furry companion, but Clive shut her down cold. 'Not responsible enough, kid,' he growled, his voice like gravel under boots. She pushed back, desperate. Then he leaned in, a sly glint in his eye. 'Prove it. Be my pet for a week. Crawl, obey, feel the leash. Earn that damn dog.' Weird as hell, but Bailey bit her lip—how bad could it be? She nodded, sealing the deal with a shaky breath. First days? Smooth enough. Clive tossed her a bowl of kibble, patted her head like she was his prize pup. She played along, tail wagging in her mind, inching closer to victory. But the week dragged on, and Clive turned the screws. A meal skipped, her stomach twisting in empty protest. Outdoor breaks? Late, forcing her to squat and hold it, bladder screaming. He watched, smirking, making her taste neglect—the sharp edge of what she'd dish out to a real pet if she slacked. Still, she gritted her teeth, eyes on the prize, refusing to break. By the end, Clive's game twisted darker, perversion creeping in like smoke. On that final day, he lounged back, unzipping with a predatory grin. 'Beg for my bone, pet. Earn your freedom.' Shock hit her like a slap—eyes wide, heart pounding. But the week's grind clawed at her; no way she'd let it all crumble now. Swallowing hard, she dropped to her knees, voice husky with defeat. 'Please, Daddy... give it to me.' He chuckled low, pulling her in, the forbidden heat igniting as she surrendered, chasing that elusive pet through the haze of his twisted lesson.