Page 45 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions

My little owl had given blowjobs before but wasn’t well practiced. A very dangerous and primal part of me was grateful for that. I’d never been a jealous man before, but I was learning very quickly that I was when it came to her.

Last night, after she’d danced for me, which was becoming my favorite activity outside of actually being inside her, I had her hold a pipe behind her back with both hands while she sucked my cock. I drew it out as long as I could, showing her what I liked, where I was sensitive, how I liked just a bite of pain with the slightest scrape of her teeth… All while she held the pipe to keep her hands from me.

My little owl on her knees with my cock in her mouth was one of the fucking hottest things I’d ever seen in my life. Since we’d gone over hard and soft limits, I knew she allowed pictures and videos, for my eyes only. So I’d called the club’s photographer to come in while my little owl was sucking me to get some pictures from my point of view.

Master Kade had met me at the club as I’d requested. While the man was still just as much of an asshole as me, I felt we’d come to an understanding. He’d acted as protector for my little owl, whom he referred to as ‘Dani’, for years. I did not ask, nor did he offer, the details about what had happened to her. I wanted my little owl to tell me when she was ready. I was appreciative for all Master Kade had done for her, but I also made it clear thatIwas her protector now.

He just shrugged and wished me luck. I knew the two were living together, so it wasn’t like he was washing his hands of her, but I still found the way he acted odd. Like he found itamusingthat I thought what my little owl and I were growing could one day be permanent.

Since exchanging numbers, I’d woken up each morning with a picture of any body part she desired as well as an affirmation.I let her choose what she wanted to say, though I did give her a variety of examples. So far her three messages have been:

Little Owl: I am beautiful, I am strong, and I am submissive.

Little Owl: I will strive to serve Sir to the best of my abilities and no more.

Little Owl: Kneeling is a gift I give willingly to Sir.

The last one from this morning was my favorite, and not just because it was accompanied by a picture of her nipple pinched between a clothespin.

Now I was standing over a John Doe who was surrounded by taxidermied dogs and staged to look like he was being attacked.

The one good thing about Carr creating a task force would be the additional funding, manpower, and resources. It was just unfortunate that it took three people to die.

Dr. Robinson was bent over the body, doing his thing, while I studied our surroundings. We were in a dog park. It was public, easy access, and had limited lighting. As in, the perfect place to stage a body to look like the victim was being attacked by dogs.

Whistling, I got Mira’s attention. She came running back.

“Pull up the report on Christopher Harrow,” I ordered without looking at her. The dogs meant something, clearly.

She got out her tablet and scrolled through a moment before asking, “What is it you’re looking for?”

“Dr. Robinson concluded that the bites on his body were made from a non-poisonous tarantula, correct?”

“Goliath bird eaters, yes.”

“What about Amber Jamison?” She was the second victim; the one found in the back of the police cruiser. “Any animal bites?”

She pulled up the next report, tapping on the screen. “No. Just,” Mira made a face, “a lot of damage, like she was beingcookedalive before her throat was slit.”

“There’s only an animal connection with the male victims then,” I concluded.

“’fraid not,” Dr. Robinson said as he stood up. His old knees cracked and he stretched his back with a groan. “This man did not die by dog, nor does he have any bites on him.”

“Then what’s with the dogs?” Mira asked.

“That’s your job, Agent Barnes,” Dr. Robinson told her sternly, “not mine.”

At least Mira had the good grace to blush. I got his attention back. “No bite marks at all?”

“I’d have to get him on my table to know for certain, but no. I can tell you he was tortured, though. Rope burns on both wrists and one ankle.”

“One ankle?” I asked.

Dr. Robinson nodded his head in confirmation. “We’ll get him on my table as soon as possible. All I can tell you for now is an estimate that he died between ten to twelve hours ago.”

I glanced at my watch, noting that there was a possibility that John Doe was being murdered while my little owl was sucking my cock.

I might be an asshole for that thought, but at least I had the sensitivity to keep my mouth shut about it. Unlike my partner, who was really starting to get on my nerves ever since we’d missed that morning meeting due to her ex.

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