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lorelune · 3 months ago

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(minors dni || michael kaiser x reader || pet play, predator/prey, fear play, subspace, d/s dynamics in gen || wc: ~1.8k)

"aw, don't you look pretty?" kaiser coos, his frigid hand cupping your jaw.

you're sure you do. maybe. you feel a little ridiculous if you're being fully honest with yourself.

long finger trails down your throat, slowing to trace the loop of leather cinched around it. each touch of his is intentional, meant to make you squirm in place. your knees have started to ache where you kneel, perched between kaiser's legs as sits on the edge of the mattress above you.

"if you say so." you spit the words.

kaiser's expression darkens.

you imagine that he has a plan for how this evening is meant to proceed. kaiser got you a gift, something he so fucking averse to receiving but god forbid you don't accept any of the ones he plies you with. his 'gift' came in a black velvet box. it had been heavy in your palms and you put off opening it while kaiser beamed at you in that sickening way only he can manage. you hoped it would just be jewelry— kaiser is quite fond of giving you pieces and you've come to expect it. but the box in your hands feels too hefty to be a necklace like the size of it denotes.

unfortunately, your hopes are dashed, mangled, killed when you open that fucking box.

the item that laid in said box is now buckled around your neck.

a collar. a fucking collar. simple, with two sets of d-rings on the front and back of it. the leather is high-quality, suede on the inside and conditioned so its not too rough against your throat, but you have a sinking feeling it would still leave indents if kaiser tugs at it too much. it's pure black, hardware included, except for a blue jewel-encrusted pendant of a rose that hand off the front.

you had put up quite the fight before... agreeing to wear the thing. once, you agreed, to say 'thank you' for the gift. then the thing is getting thrown in the back of a fucking closet because kaiser hasn't done anything more than clasp the leather around your throat and you already feel small and stupid.

kaiser is too smart for his own good. you're certain he anticipated your upset and indignation. fuck, he's probably counting on it which is why your little, piecemeal display of apathy has him staring at you like you kicked his fucking dog (and you'd never kick ness. he's a good boy.)

faster than you can track, kaiser loops his index finger in the front d-ring of the collar. he hauls you up, closer, so you're forced to brace upwards on your knees. he brings you too close to his breath, thick cologne fogging your senses. his gaze is deadly, an executioner's. you hear death knells and feel the swipe of a scythe in the chill of his skin brushing against your own.

"pets don't talk," kaiser says like he's reminding a child who forgot the order of the alphabet and not chastising his very kind, tolerant partner.

you scowl and roll your eyes. “good thing i'm not your pet then."

"aren't you?" he tilts his hand. one of the long bits of his hair falls forward over his shoulder as he leers down at you. "you're not a quite a dog— you're not obedient enough for that. a housecat, maybe? you'll need to be declawed in any case."

you frown. it only makes kaiser smile more, insidiously, clearly getting off on your discomfort. you're not... you're not a fucking housecat.

your thighs tremble, straining from the awkward half-kneel you’ve been forced into if your legs gave out now, the only thing holding you up would be kaiser's grip on the collar. it doesn't help that your hands are bound at the small of your back with a skillful knot. you resist gravity and your body's urge to crumple.

"i'm not—" you try to snap.

kaiser interrupts you, cupping your face with his free hand. "maybe you're just a little rabbit."

he presses his cold fingers against your lips, prodding into your mouth.

a fucking bunny—?

you bite him. there's not enough force beyond it to do any lasting damage but kaiser still flinches. you get some satisfaction after that, but its quite a short-lived feeling.

without reverie, or any chance to process, kaiser has you fully standing, wobbling for a moment as blood rushes back to your legs. you feel— fucking light-headed. but clearly he doesn't care as he's throwing you down against the bed. the impact knocks air out of you, the rumpled duvet pillowing the impact.

kaiser looms, straddling your hips. you think that, maybe, when kaiser envisioned how this night would go, you were supposed to be a nice house pet he got to play with. he probably would've made you cum on his fingers, his favored vibrator, his cock and made you feel stupid— like some actual fucking spoiled house pet.

but you never make it easy for him. that would be a defeat and sparring with kaiser is too entertaining. too gratifying—

(it doesn’t matter if it’s you or him that that ends up frustrated or crushed, really. regardless of who loses, who ends up battered and upset, sparks still dance just behind your eyes. admiration and arousal mix. you're, truthfully, just as collared as he has literally made you.)

he grabs your jaw. hard enough that it aches and you're tempted to bite him again.

"so, you don't want to be a pet for me?"

"n-no—"

"fine, sure—" he yanks on your hair, pain sparks along your scalp and you attempt to buck him off your hips. he bears his weight on you and you know that you're absolutely fucked. "if you insist. though, your stubbornness hasn't gotten you anywhere before... has it?"

you bite him again. properly. or attempt to at least— you barely get a nip in before he's forcing you head into the mattress, craning your neck. it aches, it fucking aches and a wounded little noise leaves your throat. it rattles the collar around your neck, out of your control.

"i'm not—"

"you are. you are." he taps your forehead as he tells you, rattling your brain around inside of your skull. "you're my little pet. mine. denying it doesn't make it any less true. it just makes you look really stupid. more stupid than normal. it's almost cute how stupid you're acting—"

"choke."

"mouthy—" he bites into your flesh between your neck and shoulder. you gasp, writhe, kick a little. "maybe you're feral."

you're not sure how much of this is play and how much of this is proclamation. there's a sinking feeling in your gut that kaiser really does intend to tame you.

and, unfortunately, you know that he has the absolutely capability to do so.

one last attempt—

"i'm not—" you wheeze around the pressure on your neck, the weight over your hips. kaiser is hard, you can feel it against your navel, even through his clothes. "i'm n-not your fucking pet—"

he sighs, pushing back his hair. he wears an expression like this whole ordeal is such a burden and he's not currently weeping pre in his boxers at this very moment.

"i guess i'll have to show you that you are then."

the pressure releases off your scalp, and his still fucking cold hands trail down your navel. you're just little a tank top, no bra, and little shorts. kaiser takes advantage of your immodesty. he wracks his nails from your hips up to your chest, dragging the thin fabric upwards as he does.

and with your belly exposed?

suddenly, you do feel like a collared prey animal. the softness of you is exposed. bare and open to the chill air of the room regardless of the the discomfort writhing just beneath your skin.

you don't mean to whimper, but you do anyway, and kaiser kisses below your ear. if it were anyone else, you’d think the act was an apology. but it’s michael, so the affection is meant to make you feel disarmed and stupid. too feeble and unworthy to do anything but take it.

and all you can do is take it. your arms are aching against your weight and the rope looped around your wrists. he bites and kisses into your ear in a way that has your kicking against the mattress. you can't tell if its good or bad, it's— too sensitive. too much.

his hand comes to rest on your tummy. wide and still so cold, bracing you down as he sucks another collar on your neck, this time of molted bruises.

as kaiser draws back, lips wet and teeth shining, you really don't think like he looks like the owner of any pet.

he looks like a predator.

like— a fucking— big cat, a leopard or panther. maybe a wolf, even, the lone kind that howl so loud and bite so hard.

there's a twist of fear in your gut, and you can't tell if it's real or not. you don't know what to do with it other than sniffle and accept that the tears beading at the corners of your eyes are out of your control.

kaiser must notice them. he tilts his head and with a click of his tongue, he's swooping down to kiss you. it's unrelenting, he's unrelenting immediately. his tongue is immediately in your mouth, against your teeth, as he sucks your own tongue into his mouth. it's too much, so much—

but that's the point, isn't it? that it's too much, that kaiser can lord this type of control over you and all you can do is whine and kick and beg in little words for him to relent. to provide mercy. it gets you off just as much as it does him.

it makes you feel light-headed. you're drunk on the feeling.

kaiser kisses you again. this time, it's softer. you're loopy enough to think of the pressure and rhythm of it as gentle. you're not sure if its a farce or not, an attempt to get you to relax. it's an unknown.

"you're mine." kaiser reminds you, saying the words against your lips. branding them into the soft, supple flesh. he flicks the charm around your throat. "be a good little house pet and remember that, hm?"

"'kay." the word is breathy, half-there, but believable even if you don't feel all that in control of saying them.

(kaiser— he must be able to tell how far gone you are. how just little rope, choice words and contact, and this stupid fucking collar have got you so deep. you're under him. and for all of kaiser's faults, you are his and you serve a function. there's— some confidence you'll be taken care of.)

it's easier to believe, like this, when you and kaiser are in the steady process of breaking down in tandem. it's easier to believe that you are his... housecat, bunny, pet, and that you will be well-tended when you're fissuring. melting out of your ears as his touch trails lower and lower.

it's much easier to believe that kaiser will be a good owner as he kisses your cunt over the thin fabric of panties.

(even if you cannot escape the predatory gaze he gives you as he does.)

(it’s like he intends to devour you.)

#lore writes #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #drabbles #anon who sent kaiser + pet play/infantilization... this is for u #leaned into the pet play and the predator/prey followed #heheh ENJOY!!!

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