Lumi's world was a small one, and until a few weeks ago the TV had been the brightest thing in it. He knew it lied sometimes: cartoons weren't true, and he wasn't sure if cooking shows were true or not. (He was only supposed to touch the microwave. At approved times.) Maybe the scrambled channels lied, like the cartoons, but--
News-humans were supposed to be fair and balanced. They brought you the real story about things like the weather and important new products and what really happened at the dog park after dark.
They wouldn't lie, would they? Just get on the air and tell lies? It didn't make any difference to his imagination.
Lumi had slept in a dog bed, before. It was thin and old, and washed half to death. Even bleached it'd reeked with the fear marks of past pets. Pets he'd never met or even heard Master Edward speak of--so Lumi knew, to the core, that he'd better take what he was given and be grateful. It was hard to actually rest on, but it also did not stop Lumi from using all the furniture the second Master Edward was down the hall and through the elevator doors.
But it was different here. This was so nice. Everything here was so nice, and some of it was just for him. Master Caleb gave Lumi his own room, and not a dog gate in sight. Lumi kept his bed just as nice as Master Caleb gave it to him--by sleeping on top of it, curled cozy in an extra blanket found inside his own closet. He simply took it off and remade the bed every day.
Right now, though, the blanket wouldn't have cut it. He'd have gotten it all messy, tracked himself all over his nice new things. It was--was it instinct, was it training? Was he just afraid? It was bad to make a mess--so he'd bolted, in the end, to the one room that didn't smell like Master Caleb, or like the space Lumi'd been growing into, the room that was finally starting to smell like his own territory.
Neutral ground, an empty space that didn't have much in it that he could ruin. No blanket would've survived this. His underwear were already a casualty, buried in the rest of the laundry. He was in a weird mood, all hot and hungry and too, squirmy, to judge his own strength. He'd torn them trying to get them off.
Lumi held as still as he could, trying to listen to Master Caleb. His tail wagged relentlessly for the possibility of lay down. On the bed. Although they would need to sit first.
Master Caleb helped him up, and by bracing a little helped Lumi find his footing. Finally standing two-legs again was a relief, even with strong feelings pushing that he should bend over and open up, and wag his tail nice and high. That would be the best way, all sweet access--
But Master Caleb kept a hand on him, steadying with a good, firm touch. Lumi whined, soft and low, edged with a growl for how it felt when Master Caleb reached down so careful, just gently, and oh--let him loose.
He sprang all the way up with a twitch, red and heavy. It was so good, even as he shivered for contact with air, spiced with the sting from the cruel press of the zipper.
His jeans were so slicked down they slid off, rolled down his thighs at a tug from Master Caleb and slithered down under their own soaked weight. The pull--and the heavy push of wet denim over his tail--almost made Lumi close his legs, instinct and the chill tugging at his inner lips. He clenched, inside, and sweet, fresh slick stained the air.
Lumi shook himself a little, like the feelings were water, like it would help. It just pulled everything, heavy and sharp and too good. He whined, low, trying not to growl.
They still had to come all the way off. Sitting first.
"Better," Lumi managed. He really did feel good. He watched himself tremble, bright red and so full. "Sit? Sit."
Really he fell into position, but he got where Master Caleb needed him by borrowing his support and wiggling his ass back on the bed. Carefully. Really slow. It was, torture, but somehow good. So good.
He wondered, hazily, what taken care of was, if maybe it was more than just the wrecked jeans.
He knew, down under all his grunting and pushing, that he should let Master Caleb know he was okay, and that needed human words.
"So much better," they were low, heavy, hard to use, so Lumi looked up and smiled to show how he was feeling. "Thank you, Master."
no subject
News-humans were supposed to be fair and balanced. They brought you the real story about things like the weather and important new products and what really happened at the dog park after dark.
They wouldn't lie, would they? Just get on the air and tell lies? It didn't make any difference to his imagination.
Lumi had slept in a dog bed, before. It was thin and old, and washed half to death. Even bleached it'd reeked with the fear marks of past pets. Pets he'd never met or even heard Master Edward speak of--so Lumi knew, to the core, that he'd better take what he was given and be grateful. It was hard to actually rest on, but it also did not stop Lumi from using all the furniture the second Master Edward was down the hall and through the elevator doors.
But it was different here. This was so nice. Everything here was so nice, and some of it was just for him. Master Caleb gave Lumi his own room, and not a dog gate in sight. Lumi kept his bed just as nice as Master Caleb gave it to him--by sleeping on top of it, curled cozy in an extra blanket found inside his own closet. He simply took it off and remade the bed every day.
Right now, though, the blanket wouldn't have cut it. He'd have gotten it all messy, tracked himself all over his nice new things. It was--was it instinct, was it training? Was he just afraid? It was bad to make a mess--so he'd bolted, in the end, to the one room that didn't smell like Master Caleb, or like the space Lumi'd been growing into, the room that was finally starting to smell like his own territory.
Neutral ground, an empty space that didn't have much in it that he could ruin. No blanket would've survived this. His underwear were already a casualty, buried in the rest of the laundry. He was in a weird mood, all hot and hungry and too, squirmy, to judge his own strength. He'd torn them trying to get them off.
Lumi held as still as he could, trying to listen to Master Caleb. His tail wagged relentlessly for the possibility of lay down. On the bed. Although they would need to sit first.
Master Caleb helped him up, and by bracing a little helped Lumi find his footing. Finally standing two-legs again was a relief, even with strong feelings pushing that he should bend over and open up, and wag his tail nice and high. That would be the best way, all sweet access--
But Master Caleb kept a hand on him, steadying with a good, firm touch. Lumi whined, soft and low, edged with a growl for how it felt when Master Caleb reached down so careful, just gently, and oh--let him loose.
He sprang all the way up with a twitch, red and heavy. It was so good, even as he shivered for contact with air, spiced with the sting from the cruel press of the zipper.
His jeans were so slicked down they slid off, rolled down his thighs at a tug from Master Caleb and slithered down under their own soaked weight. The pull--and the heavy push of wet denim over his tail--almost made Lumi close his legs, instinct and the chill tugging at his inner lips. He clenched, inside, and sweet, fresh slick stained the air.
Lumi shook himself a little, like the feelings were water, like it would help. It just pulled everything, heavy and sharp and too good. He whined, low, trying not to growl.
They still had to come all the way off. Sitting first.
"Better," Lumi managed. He really did feel good. He watched himself tremble, bright red and so full. "Sit? Sit."
Really he fell into position, but he got where Master Caleb needed him by borrowing his support and wiggling his ass back on the bed. Carefully. Really slow. It was, torture, but somehow good. So good.
He wondered, hazily, what taken care of was, if maybe it was more than just the wrecked jeans.
He knew, down under all his grunting and pushing, that he should let Master Caleb know he was okay, and that needed human words.
"So much better," they were low, heavy, hard to use, so Lumi looked up and smiled to show how he was feeling. "Thank you, Master."