Time didn’t matter for it anymore though. It didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day, week or time of year. It was hung by its legs after...a training session with Master and his slave and was left until it was to be used further. it repeated to itself just how useless it was and that it was glad Master took it as his. It vaguely remembered a time when it still had a name and a pathetic sorry life, or at least the appearance of a life. Its life as a person ended the day Master made it. Like its original restaurant out in Mission, it’s justifiably celebrated for fried chicken. Fucking Kansas.I smiled at our waiter, “Whole, please Sammy.”Chip smiled at me, “I like a girl with an appetite.”“Oh, I’ll take most of it home to my family. My loving family.” Truth was, I could eat the entire chicken. And sides. And dessert. But I don’t unleash my appetite in restaurants, in public. In front of a guy. Even a guy I’m seeing for strictly business reasons.Chip carried my doggy bag while. “You’re going to be at the table with me.”True to her word, Page is allowed to sit at the table right next to Eris. The rest of the pets, if they’re lucky, get to sit by their master’s or mistress’ feet. Those that aren’t so lucky get a corner of the room where they all have to lay together like a pack of dogs.The Great Hall is by far the largest built room on the entire farm and every trainer, mistress and their pets are here. The table everyone sits at is one giant rectangle with a stage in. Many times, I would return home and he would be waiting for me, naked and ready, his cock throbbing, precome pouring down the engorged shaft. He often met me in the kitchen, using the counters or table to share his needs with me. Once, he even met me in the garage. As I put my suit in the washer, he slipped up behind me, bending me and taking me as the water filled the machine. The ceiling light clicked off, and he continued to slam into me, repeatedly, in the dark. I found it very exciting.I.