Page 69 of The Rook’s Obsession

I need to get myself together. I’m supposed to be prepared for this, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of this man wearing a collar and a leash, waiting eagerly for whatever is supposed to come next.

“Let him take the lead,” Nick advises me. “Let him show you what he wants.”

He’s right. His good sense shakes me out of the worst of my shock, and I remember in time to put on a German accent—the one I’ve used for jobs I was sent on by the man now waiting on his hands and knees.

“What is it you require this evening?” My voice is flat, full of command. Exactly the way I need to sound.

It doesn’t occur to me until he begins crawling toward the table along the wall that he doesn’t intend to talk. Of course. He’s a dog, isn’t he? He wouldn’t be able to speak.

“I cannot fucking believe this.” I can’t tell if Nick is still in shock or whether he thinks this is funny. I’m not sure how I feel about it either.

Vincenzo crawls to the table and then crawls down its length, studying the toys and tools, waiting before finally panting, like he’s excited. Dear God, he even wiggles his ass a little the way a dog would before nudging one of the toys with his nose and panting louder.

It takes a moment for me to understand what I’m looking at. A butt plug, smooth and gleaming in the low light. It’s the long, fur tail attached to the flared base that makes my heart stutter.

He wants me to put that in him. No. There was no way to prepare for this.

“You better do it,” Nick urges, and he’s still walking the thin line between concern and amusement. “Don’t forget the lube.”

I won’t forget it. “Yes, a tail. Like the dog you are.” I allow disgust to leak into my voice. It isn’t difficult. And it has nothing to do with the act I’m currently going through, opening the small bottle the club provided and pouring clear gel over the plug.

Here we go.

“Turn,” I demand, holding the toy, using my other hand to gesture for him to present his ass. I cannot believe I’m doing this. Nothing I came up with in my wildest imaginings came close to touching this. Gazing at Vincenzo’s bare ass, which he lifts, eager to be filled.

I take a deep breath, brace myself, and slowly guide the plug into his ass. His short, excited breaths get faster, like he’s enjoying it. I’m sure he is.

“Now,” I announce once he’s good and full, “I expect you wish to be walked.” His head bobs, tongue hanging out of his mouth like he’s excited. He’s given no indication of recognizing me. I need to remind myself what this is about, that I need as much embarrassing evidence as possible.

So far, so good.

I pick up the end of the leash and loop it around my fist once, twice. “Now walk,” I demand, my heels snapping against the floor while I lead him around the edges of the room. He pants happily, grunting, growling.

“He’s loving this,” Nick observes with something like wonder in his voice. “This is what gets him off. Tell him what a bad boy he is.”

“You’ve been a very bad boy,” I scold, clicking my tongue. “Bad boys don’t get treats, do they? No, they do not. Bad boys are punished.”

Vincenzo gazes up at me for the first time, which might be the worst part of all of this so far. Looking him in the eye. This man, who sat across from me at dinner countless times, who taught me, molded me. Who struck fear into the hearts of so many powerful men with nothing more than a glare, maybe the flaring of his nostrils.

Here he is, my bad dog, and I think he wants to be punished.

“What does my dog want? Does he want pets?” I ask as we continue our stroll around the room’s perimeter. He pants louder, harder, even getting up on his knees. His hands hang in front of him like a dog’s paws. Now I see what’s hanging between his legs. It’s almost pathetically small—really, I’m not surprised. If there’s anything the man has always radiated, it wasn’t big dick energy.

“I don’t think he deserves it,” I decide. “Only good dogs get pets. Bad dogs get punished, don’t they?”

He whines—it’s a high-pitched sound, nasal, and I actually have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “He is really into this,” Nick muses in my ear. “I wonder exactly how far he’s willing to go.”

I would swear he can hear Nick, because he now scrambles around on the floor, turning in circles on his hands and knees, whimpering louder now. “What is it? What do you want?” I ask. He leads me to the corner opposite the table full of toys.

At first, I don’t realize what I’m looking at. When he lifts his leg, angled toward the corner, I don’t understand until I hear the sound of piss hitting the floor. “Holy fuck,” Nick mutters. “Rub his nose in it. Humiliate him.”

Yes. I have to remember this is all for the sake of footage. The more of this I can get, the better. “You filthy pig!” With the end of the leash, I strike his back once, twice, while he yelps and whimpers. “How dare you? Doing your business here without permission. Because you’re a bad dog, aren’t you? Bad, bad!” I punctuate the words with more lashes from the leash.

Then I reach out, thread my fingers through his hair, and pull his head back. The frantic, almost ecstatic light in his eyes turns my stomach. “You know what happens to dogs who do their business wherever they feel like it, don’t you?” I ask, pulling his hair until he whimpers again. “They get their noses rubbed in it. Is that what you want? Do you want me to rub your nose in that puddle you just left?” His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he pants his agreement, and the tail swings as he wags it back and forth.

Jesus Christ.

Without warning, I shove his head down into the mess he made. “There you go. You’re disgusting. You bad, filthy boy.” This time, he whimpers almost like he’s apologetic, and the sound turns my stomach. Not because this is what he likes—I literally could not care less, having seen much worse from much better people than him. No, it’s the fact that it’s coming from him, this man who does everything he can to project power and confidence, who would most definitely cut anyone out of his life if he so much as suspected they were involved in this kind of role-play. Yet here I am, watching him enjoy it. Fucking hypocrite.