Page 42 of Becoming His Pet

Two more pellets exploded on the tree trunks around her. He was getting closer. His booted steps were heavy, and much too near her.

Frantically looking around her, she found a large bush, thick branches covered in wide, deep green leaves. It was her only chance. She dove behind it, crouching down and peering through the slim spaces between the branches.

Where was he?

Was that him whistling?

Not wanting to shake the leaves of the bush and give away her location, she moved her body over to see toward the left of where she hid.

Nothing.

A branch crunched, but she couldn’t tell from which direction it came.

If she had the use of her fingers she could easily pry the branches apart quietly, but he’d strapped the fucking paws on in a way that left her helpless to do it on her own.

Her own breathing echoed in her ears, drowned out only by the harsh beating of her heart. Sweat rolled down her temple.

The cock of a gun drew her attention, and she stilled. Trying not to move a muscle, she desperately searched for him. He had to be close.

“I don’t want to hit your back, pet. Get off your knees so I can hit your ass.” His dark voice vibrated though her. He was behind her.

“You haven’t hit me yet,” she said calmly. She could get up and run for it again, get on the other side of the bush. He’d have to run after her in order to take a clear shot.

“You can try to run if you want... I’ll give you five seconds.” The confidence in his voice didn’t give her any of her own that she’d get anywhere. But at least she’d try.

She stood up, bolting to the left, but before she even cleared the bush, a sharp pain shot through her thigh. Looking down, she saw the blue paint dripping. But she didn’t stop, she kept running.

Another shot to her ass, then her right hip. She screamed at the pain; those little balls hurt like fuck!

“Not playing fair, pet,” he called out to her.

She stopped running and bent over, placing her gloved hands on her knees and gulped for air.

“I—” Tears filled her eyes. It had been her chance, and she’d failed.

“You were hit.” His words led her to follow his previous instructions.

She slid down to the forest floor and rolled to her back. Ignoring the tears on her face, she parted her knees, bent her hands downward at the wrists, and brought them to her chest.

He stepped to her, between her spread legs and looked down at her. He slipped his glasses off and dropped them to the ground, along with his rifle.

Sweat rolled off her forehead, her entire body felt hot. The ground had a soft chill to it, and she welcomed it against her hot skin.

Greg moved down to his knees; leaning over her body, planting his hands on either side of her, he brought his face close to hers. His eyes, stern and hungry, fixated on her.

“You cheated, little fox.”

She gave a little nod, finding it hard to speak with him so close. He was barely out of breath! How could she have thought she’d outrun him.

“Are you sorry?” His eyebrows rose.

She nodded again.

“Should I punish you?” he asked, one hand reaching down to her knee and resting on it.

She shook her head. “Please... no.” The words barely came out loud enough for her to hear.

His fingers trailed down from her bent knee, toward her sex.

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