Stray Puppy Book 3

Coming back to my best friend Axel’s apartment at the top of the building where I’ve been staying with him and my new friends, Zyon and Tommy, was relaxing.

I kept a lookout for anyone acting suspicious or giving off a dangerous vibe, but nothing happened the entire trip to the grocery store, and I gradually calmed down. I should have known something would happen.

Axel and Zyon’s Irish giant, Seán, and his giant Scottish friend, Tommy’s boyfriend, Lewis, had been abducted and fell off the face of the earth.

It’d only make sense if the kidnappers came back to take their partners for whatever sick reason, especially with how the person in the letters spoke about them.

I shouldn’t have left them alone. I should’ve just ordered our groceries online and had them delivered to us.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have come back to see the penthouse empty with signs of a struggle, Axel’s bedroom door kicked in, and a spot of blood on the closet door. My friends were nowhere to be found.

I know for a fact that Axel wouldn’t have gone easy and would try to save Zyon and Tommy, so I assume someone knocked them unconscious.

Someone had to have seen what happened, cameras or a recording—something. In my panic upon discovering the scene, I called some guy I met in the BDSM club I work at with Axel.

We had been speaking for a good few weeks, maybe two months, and the man, Devin, was extremely caring and polite. I felt safe around him.

We spoke enough over the phone that I had gotten used to him and could be my bratty self without worrying I’d annoy him. Luckily, he loves brats and knows how to tame me.

However, he had told me to call if I needed help and subconsciously, I tapped his number instead of calling the police immediately, an extremely stupid move.

Devin dropped whatever he was doing as soon as he heard me crying and panicking, asking what happened or if I needed help and if someone hurt me. Once I explained, he took over, full dominant mode.

He gave me instructions: leave the apartment, touch nothing, and wait in the lobby. He had me put him on hold to call the police and report what happened, then stayed on the line as he drove to meet me.

Devin is military, or at least I think he is. I know he wears the uniform when he leaves for work and is deployed, but he never ever speaks about anything that happens while he’s away.

He won’t tell me where he’s going or what his mission is, and I understand.

I read that sometimes partners can’t know what goes on and where the soldier is, and I get he may have orders not to speak about missions he goes on.

Yet Devin never even mentions that he’s a soldier, no stories of friends or pranks others in his unit pull or anything innocent—it’s like he’s not even in the force.

He gets up, puts his uniform on, and goes to work as if he’s a simple employee going to a regular office building. Coming back with files, he’ll study, make some notes and deal with calls.

So, I do not know what he does for the military, but I trust his training, what he told me to do, and I followed his demands as quickly as possible.

Devin held me the whole time the police spoke to me and held me tighter when I had to chat with Agent J.J., the FBI agent who was supposed to keep my friends safe. I was a wreck, ugly-crying and clinging to Devin.

I was allowed to stay in the apartment once the investigation was done and any evidence had been taken. I wanted to be there when my friends returned.

Devin stayed with me, sleeping on the couch with me and helping me through my vulnerability.

He took me from reality by softly coaxing me into my subspace and cuddling me as he whispered praise into my ear, letting me drift in my calming and safe bubble for however long it lasted.

He made sure I ate and drank water, that I had everything I needed, and even went to my apartment to get my clothes. He made it bearable, the wait of finding my friends.

Spending so much time together moved any feelings to the forefront, pushed us closer, and we started dating. It was bittersweet.

I was happy with myself for landing a man like Devin, yet I was upset and guilty for enjoying myself when my friends were off with a psychopath against their will.

It wasn’t a fun thing to have confused emotions, but Devin supported me through it. He requested time off work, something I don’t think is possible while in the military, but he got a few weeks off before they ordered him back.

He distracted me from focusing on negative emotions, asking and searching for information about what limits or interests I have, playfully dominating me in a way that I appreciated.

At work, he’d call me when he had time and go over the checklist he gave me for staying healthy throughout the day without him: shower, breakfast, brush teeth, drink water, etc.

My favorite moment of my life was when the elevator opened and revealed all my friends, dirty and smelling and tired.

I hugged them and did anything I could to help make them comfortable back home, like cooking meals when Axel was told to sit down by Seán as my best friend wanted, and did, cook everything in the fridge.

Seán and Lewis smelled the worst. They were tan with dirt and grime instead of the usual pale white, and it showed just how long they went without bathing.

I understand they were kidnapped and held captive, and someone did not supply showers. Still, it was much better when Axel and Tommy dragged them to the shower.

Axel and Zyon pushed Seán to the bathroom first. The Irishman had been watching me shift and attempt to block the intense stink coming from him.

He wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, he appeared highly amused, watching me struggle with it. Axel took mercy on me, pushing his dominant toward the bathroom with their little submissive Zyon bouncing after them.

Lewis and Tommy went straight to the fridge after letting me hug them and shout my happiness in their ears. The Scottish man kept a close eye on Tommy as they ate.

Tommy never moved further than a few feet from his dominant. Whenever he did, I heard a faint rumble come from the larger man.

Tommy would blush as he moved back to cuddle into Lewis’s chest to be fed whatever junk food they found.

When the bathroom was free, Tommy dragged Lewis to the shower, where I’m positive they fucked because it was a good two hours before they came out.

Once they did, Tommy was being carried by Lewis and given sweet kisses on whatever patch of skin the dominant could reach.

Devin got along great with all of them. Axel likes him, and while Seán and Lewis didn’t really speak or add to the conversation unless prompted, I could tell they liked Devin’s company as well.

The men mainly focused on their partners, nuzzling, kissing, and forcing Tom, Zyon, and Axel to stay connected to their bodies.

I found it odd that both Lewis and Seán seemed so much more possessive than they were before, not crazily. Before disappearing, Seán did nothing overly possessive.

He would hold them tight when he had one in his lap, but he allowed them to move and get up. He let them have that freedom and choice to sit elsewhere, get up, or simply stay.

But I noticed he wouldn’t let Axel get up off the couch or disconnect himself from Seán’s side. The Irishman would merely tighten his hold on my friend and pull him closer.

Axel had seemed confused at first, yet blushed when Seán whispered something to him. Zyon had fallen asleep on Seán’s lap, too content to even consider moving.

Tommy stayed in Lewis’s lap, never once attempting to get up without permission. I watched him ask Lewis if he could go get them a snack.

The action was natural, and I know for a fact that Tommy had grown used to Lewis controlling everything. He craves and loves that he needs to ask permission.

It was heartbreaking to see him so depressed and emotionally, mentally, unable to handle Lewis being gone in such a sudden and traumatic way.

He gives himself to Lewis in such extreme ways that he couldn’t handle the strain of losing his boyfriend, his schedules, or having Lewis there to guide him and keep him on track.

They have an intense master/sub relationship that no doubt took time to gain that much trust and love. Tommy mentioned they waited a year to even discuss BDSM in great detail and come to an understanding of what each wanted.

Lewis is his master, his boyfriend, and without him, Tommy spiraled out of control.

It was hard to watch as a fellow submissive, yet I didn’t fully understand because I don’t crave to give full submission or have my dominant make every decision for me.

I never had something like what they have, and I could only do so much to comfort him. So, I could understand that Tommy would instinctively and easily fall back into his rules and how they did things.

Lewis was much more relaxed than Seán was. While his brother had to keep silently scolding Axel, Lewis was asked politely if his sub could get up.

He granted most things Tom asked for, food and to go to the bathroom, if Tom could do this or that. Occasionally, Lewis demanded Tom drink water. Yet the Scotsman also denied his boyfriend.

It was always small things that could wait: if Tom could sit on the floor, if he could go get something from the room he had been staying in, and other little things that would involve Tom getting off Lewis’s lap.

Still, he was more possessive than he had been previously. Tommy wasn’t allowed to touch anybody besides a quick hug when he got permission.

Seán did the same with Axel and Zyon, but Axel was having none of it and touched and hugged me, ignoring the low grumble that came from his boyfriend.

None of my friends seemed bothered with Lewis’s and Seán’s behavior, both tense and alert, neither very willing to leave the apartment. It didn’t bother Axel, Zyon, or Tommy, so I left it be.

After all, the men had just gotten home from being held captive almost for a year. They could’ve been adjusting or suffering from a form of PTSD, as Devin suggested.

So, life is good. As good as possible, at least for the moment. All my friends are safe and sound.

I have a great boyfriend and an amazing paying job, an overwhelmingly fancy and expensive penthouse that Axel insisted on paying for, considering he had given it to me when he moved.

I wouldn’t have lived in a place as big and fancy. I’m a less-is-more type of person and have no need for such a large, open space, but I couldn’t say no to Axel.

To be completely honest, I’ve basically lived in it more than my apartment. Of course, once Axel’s boyfriend, the Irish giant Seán, mentioned that Devin may want to move in with me at some point, I caved and accepted.

This was after everything settled down. Axel moved into a nice farmhouse with Seán and Zyon, Tommy and Lewis following to buy a house down the road from them. I visit when I can.

Axel and I speak about work over Facetime. He’s still my boss, yet he wants to stay home with his boyfriends and can’t join me at the club he owns. I see Seán and Zyon in the background occasionally.

Zyon always grins and waves, while Seán simply waves with a slight smile. Whenever I visit them, the Irishman is tense, and multiple times goes outside into the woods only to come back after a few minutes.

Axel has asked me to warn him when I visit and to inform him if anyone else is coming with me, saying Seán has some issues with sudden appearances on the property.

I agree with that. It seems reasonable after whatever happened to him during the time he and Lewis were missing.

I never worked up the courage to ask what happened while they were gone, or what I was seeing when their captors allowed FaceTime. The way they were acting as they settled back home was odd and strange.

I spoke to Axel, Zyon, and Tommy, to see if they needed anything or if they were okay, but Axel and Tommy, who have a much better understanding of what happened than Zyon may have, merely said they were okay and not to worry.

They’re better now, a full two years and a few months later. I notice certain actions they do, but they seem much better.

Axel and Tommy say that the men need to do odd things to help get over what happened, that they have coping mechanisms that aren’t very normal, yet work for them.

I don’t ask questions or concern myself with their business on this subject. What they do to get over traumatic experiences isn’t my business. As long as my friends are safe and happy, I don’t care how strange they act.

Devin and I have been dating for nearly three years now. I’ve never been happier with someone. He’s such a sweetheart and a great dominant for me, one of the best brat tamers I’ve dated.

We have some long-distance issues when he’s deployed. We can’t always have long conversations or send pictures, and there’s nearly always a person around him to keep us from having any sort of sexual fun.

When he’s home, we have a fun daddy/brat lifestyle. I’m not little, but I prefer that title over master or anything else, and Devin likes it.

In public, we get the occasional glances and looks from the older generations, especially if we hold hands or he kisses me. It bothers me, but I can’t do anything to change their views.

I’m pale, practically white, while Devin is deliciously dark chocolate. We should be able to be together, not get looks for being an interracial couple.

It doesn’t seem to bother Devin. He never mentions it, and tells me to focus on us and not others, that they don’t matter.

He likes to call me his white chocolate, something that always makes me blush and hide while also making me crave chocolate. Devin says it purely to see me go red and hide, teasing me with it until I whine or giggle.

I absolutely love him. He treats me like a prince and can handle my bratty ways. During his deployments, I’ll be bratty over the phone or FaceTime, taking great pleasure in seeing him get riled up and threatening punishments.

I’m all big and bad over the phone, yet when he comes home, I’ll change instantly, knowing I’m in trouble. The spankings are our favorite.

Depending on his mood and how much my attitude got to him, I’ll be bent over either his lap or whatever flat surface as soon as we enter the apartment. Sometimes I can’t sit down—worth it though.

Devin always apologizes for being gone for periods of time, aware that we both don’t like the distance, but I understand. He has a job and orders to comply with.

I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. He warned me he’d be gone for weeks or months at a time. I asked if they shipped him off to wars or anything similar. I’m relieved that he wasn’t going into war.

I wasn’t allowed to know where he goes; however, he subtly mentioned he takes orders from people high up in the government and goes where they think needs investigating.

I like to think he’s a military detective, finding people who commit crimes within the force. It’s the safer option of the jobs military people can have, I assume, at least.

Even if he’s gone or I don’t know where he is, I trust him and am happy with our relationship. I genuinely love Devin with everything I have and can’t wait to see where our relationship goes.

I hope we make it to a wedding of our own. I want to spend my life with him. Yet if he isn’t ready or breaks up with me, I’ll respect it.

I’ll put up a fight if he ends our relationship, but I can’t do much if he’s serious and isn’t happy with me.

I can dream, though, and right now, I’ll enjoy the time I have with him.