Chapter Text
Viktor Nikiforov is famous, known to tame a wild beast into a docile and obedient pet. His dogs are highly sought after, going for exorbitant sums on the market, and the waitlist for his special training is years long. He only takes on a few at a time at his remote country estate, so he can focus his full attention.
On his return from selling his latest pet, he’s surprised to find a delivery van parked by the entrance to his home. The driver meets him at the gate.
“Delivery for V. Nikiforov?” He asks, holding out a pad for an electronic signature.
“May I ask the sender?” He pauses before signing.
“I don’t even know what it is, to be honest. They just paid me to drive it over. Been waiting all day.”
Viktor weighs the pros and cons, then signs on the dotted line. If someone went through this much effort, he might as well see what it is. Plus, he hasn’t called up the next client on his waitlist.
Still, Viktor has the driver deposit the package in the back of his car, and watches him drive off down the long country road, checking his emails and replying to urgent matters on his phone.
The package is more of a crate, with wooden sides and, curiously, airholes. He’s annoyed, if he’s honest, and a little impressed at the ingenuity–he has a strong suspicion someone is trying to skip the waitlist. It’s temperate outside, and has half a mind to wait even longer without harm to the creature in the crate, when he receives a text from his mother.
I see you got my package! Thought of you when I saw him, hope you enjoy! Xoxo
Viktor sighs. His mother is always fretting about lack of companionship.
The crate has a hinged lid, sealed with a simple sliding lock. Viktor releases it and peers inside.
A curled-up figure with black hair is inside, asleep, chest rising and falling slowly. Drugged for transport. Viktor reaches in and shifts a leg to the side, checking the genitals: a male.
He trains both, but his preference is indeed males. He shuts the lid again and drives to his house, mind on this new present. He can afford to put off his waitlist for a week or two, surely, if this is something he wants to pursue.
All three of his training rooms are empty, so he picks the blue one on a whim. It has the best sunlight, and is closest to his own bedroom. It’s simple to transfer him from the latched crate to his new cage, even as deadweight. He pulls a chair into the room to be there when he wakes, since he’d shown signs of stirring as Viktor carried him.
The thick, ugly collar around his neck says Yuuri.
Viktor has his laptop out, ordering a new collar and other supplies, when he hears him wake, shifting in the blankets at the bottom of his cage.
“Good morning, Yuuri,” Viktor says, walking closer.
Yuuri turns to face him, brown eyes wide. The cage isn’t tall enough for him to sit up fully, so he hunches, blinking sleep from his eyes.
He shows signs of previous training, and careless training at that. “You can speak.”
Yuuri swallows visibly. “Hello, Master.”
Viktor kneels down next to him. “Smart boy. I’m your new Master. You must be thirsty after your long trip; I’ll get you something to drink. Stay.”
Yuuri stays put as Viktor goes and fills up a bowl of water and places it at the still-open entrance to the cage. “Drink.”
As if it hurts him, Yuuri leans his head over the bowl and begins to lap at the water, pink tongue working overtime. Another sign he’s not properly broken in. “Finish it, if you can,” Viktor adds.
He waits until the bowl is drained, then praises him where praise is due. “Good boy.”
Hooking a leash into Yuuri’s collar, Viktor leads him towards his office. Yuuri follows on hands and knees.
“I train pets like you for a living,” Viktor explains, once they’re across the hallway, “but you are the first one my family has ever sent. I’m going to clean you up and take your initial measurements.”
Some trainers feel it’s beneath them to explain what they’re doing, but Viktor disagrees. If you are requiring absolute trust, you have to be willing to build it in return. “Stand up.”
Yuuri shakily rises, wincing. Viktor hooks his leash securely to the side of the tiled shower, and grabs the spray nozzle. He checks the water temperature, making sure it’s not too hot. “Let’s start at the top.”
He washes Yuuri’s thick black hair, using his own palm to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. He looks for signs of rough physical handling, but finds no bruises, marks, or scars. That’s good. Viktor relaxes.
One of Yuuri’s pink nipples is pierced with a silver hoop, and he has trimmed black pubic hair above his cock but nowhere else. “Wax? Laser?” Viktor asks, in case he has to schedule another appointment.
“Laser,” Yuuri says in that same, soft voice.
Viktor pats his thigh. “Thank you. Good boy.”
He towels Yuuri off, then tugs him over to his photograph area with the measurement grid on the wall. He unhooks the leash, and sets up his lighting and cameras, getting photos of his front, back, and each side.
“Bend over, palms flat on the floor. Spread your thighs. Wider.”
It’s a gorgeous view, Yuuri’s muscled ass with his soft testes and penis hanging down between thick thighs.
Normally, Viktor gets these measurements before and after to share with clients. With Yuuri, he’s mostly doing it out of habit, to see how he responds and get a good look at his body.
Viktor puts on a fresh pair of examination gloves and spreads Yuuri’s asscheeks apart. His hole is tight and pink, freshly cleaned from the shower. Without preamble, he lubes and presses his finger inside, testing the stretch: very, very tight.
“How long have you been in training?” Viktor asks, pressing against his inner walls.
“One year, Master.”
Viktor frowns. “And you’re still this tight?”
“My trainer said it was preferred,” Yuuri says.
He adds more lube, stretching him wider with a second finger. “How many times have you been mounted and by who?”
“Only by the other pets in training, Master. I do not know how many times.”
“And how many others have you mounted yourself?”
“Same answer, Master, just the other pets in training, I do not know how many times.”
Viktor finds what he’s looking for, pressing hard on Yuuri’s prostate and seeing him shudder. “Good boy. Thank you.”
Starting tomorrow, Viktor’s going to start training him anally, an intensive course. He doesn’t believe in hurting his pets, and Yuuri being so tight is a danger.
He plugs Yuuri up with a small, flared toy, just to get him used to it. Yuuri’s body fights him to even get that in.
“Ask permission if you need to take that out.”
“Yes, Master.”
Yuuri’s cock is uncircumcised, which is unusual in Viktor’s experience. It stays soft in his hand as he manipulates it, checking it and his testes for damage and finding none. Probably the drugs still in his system.
The doorbell rings.
“Ah, I forgot that company was coming over.” He’d been so distracted with his new pet.
Viktor shuts down the studio lights and collars Yuuri again, who returns easily to his hands and knees to follow Viktor to the door.
It’s Chris, carrying wine. “You forgot, didn’t you.”
There’s no point in hiding it. “I did. Come on in.”
“And what’s this?” Chris asks, leaning down to inspect Yuuri as soon as he’s inside.
“A gift pet from my mother,” Viktor explains. He’s already feeling very fond, much more than usual.
Chris raises an eyebrow. “Are you keeping him, then?”
Always so perceptive. “I think so,” Viktor says, testing it out, and finds that it’s true.
Dinner is lovely, albeit much later in the night than planned. He and Chris laugh and catch up. Yuuri kneels at his side, quiet, and eats select morsels from Viktor’s hand. Viktor makes sure he has enough water.
“You’re already spoiling him so much, and you’ve only had him one day. Aren’t you an iron trainer?”
Viktor pets Yuuri’s hair. “It’s different when they’re yours, isn’t that what you always say?”
“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day.”
After dinner, they settle in on the couch and chat for some time, catching up on the latest news in their social circle. A notorious trainer is trying twelve pets at once, which is absolute madness. Another trainer swapped places with their pet, and the certification network is beside themselves with gossip over it.
“Can I offer you some dessert?” Viktor asks, and knows his meaning will be understood. He wants to test how Yuuri performs with company.
“I wish I could, but it’s gotten so late, I better not.” Chris sounds disappointed.
“Next time, then,” Viktor says. “I’ll walk you out. Yuuri, stay.”
Yuuri’s still waiting properly when Viktor gets back. His heart swells with affection.
He sits down on the couch and spreads his knees. “Yuuri, attend.”
Yuuri’s hands aren’t practiced at undoing Viktor’s belt, but he manages, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. Rather than reach right in, Yuuri nuzzles Viktor’s crotch with his soft cheek. Because he trains pets and is serviced this way often, it’s not always easy to rouse Viktor’s cock, but there’s something about Yuuri that has his erection filling out quickly as Yuuri rubs against him. There’s something sweet about him, sweet and quiet. Also, with his previous pet was sold two days ago and he hasn’t come down a willing throat in nearly 48 hours.
Yuuri pushes his briefs aside and starts mouthing and licking at Viktor’s heavy balls first. Unlike Yuuri, Viktor is trimmed but not hairless, and Yuuri shows no hesitance suckling at the sensitive skin. His mouth is hot and wet, and Viktor groans and leans back against the couch, thanking Yuuri’s original trainer for this if nothing else. He’s phenomenal, as he switches his attention to the flared head of Viktor’s cock, tracing the ridge with his tongue, thorough in his efforts.
He spends a good, long while there, sucking the tip into his mouth and pulling back with hollowed cheeks, tonguing the slit. Normally, Viktor would be giving direction, but he’s still testing the waters, seeing what Yuuri’s previous trainers have done.
Viktor has had his dick sucked innumerable times, but this is something else, almost at the edge of pain. “Swallow,” he commands, moved to impatience.
Yuuri swallows him down obediently, the warm flat of his tongue and the soft wall at the back of his throat incredible against Viktor’s swollen cock. He can’t quite fit Viktor all the way in, which is something they’ll have to work on. It is difficult but possible to relax the throat, and with Yuuri already so talented he’s sure that training will go well.
He’s close enough that he wants to cup the back of Yuuri’s head and fuck him in earnest, but he’s still testing the waters today, and holds back. There will be plenty of time for that later, if Yuuri is truly his.
He gently thrusts with his hips instead, hitting the back of Yuuri’s throat. No gag reflex.
“Good boy. Make me come, but don’t swallow. Hold it in your mouth.”
Yuuri redoubles his efforts, using his hand to massage Viktor’s balls and his talented mouth to suck his brains out through his cock. When Viktor’s cock starts to twitch in orgasam, Yuuri pulls off enough that the load of semen lands mostly in his mouth, a few splatters of cum decorating his lips and cheek.
Viktor pats him on the head and tries to catch his breath. An excellent orgasm, perhaps the best in years. He smiles wide.
Still focused on his duties, Yuuri buttons Viktor’s pants back up and buckles his belt, mouth still obediently open and full of sperm. Unable to swallow, he’s drooling a bit, andViktor wonders how long he can hold it there. Some drips down his chin.
“Do you like the taste? Be honest. Shake your head yes or no.”
Yuuri shakes his head no. Even more impressive.
“Such a good boy. Swallow.”
Yuuri gulps it down.
Viktor’s heart is alight, already mentally planning appointments for tomorrow. It might be best to get them all out of the way at once; Yuuri can handle it.
Yuuri’s own cock is at a half-chub between his thighs; the sedative must have worn off. Viktor is feeling magnanimous. “As a special treat today, I’ll even let you cum.”
His pet looks surprised.
It’s late, and Viktor intended to wait until tomorrow, but. Yuuri is special, and Viktor hasn’t been this inspired in years.