do not disturb

by Anonymous

Lestat wakes up in Louis’ arms with a familiar weight hanging around his neck and he knows its going to be a good day. He isn’t sure how Louis manages it, putting his collar on while he’s still sleeping, but it never fails to make him smile sleepily the moment he notices its return. He makes a happy noise and squirms in Louis’ arms, nuzzling against his chest. Louis grumbles quietly, so he knows he’s awake already, waiting for Lestat to join him. 

“Morning, baby,” he rasps. 

Lestat, not allowed to speak while he has his collar, hums a reply and searches for Louis’ mouth while his eyes are still closed, still mostly asleep. Louis chuckles and gives him the kiss he’s looking for, soft and unassuming. 

“On your stomach.”

Lestat makes a show of stretching out on his belly and pushing his ass into the air with a purr. 

“You already bein’ good for me. We gonna have a nice day?” 

He nods sweetly, looking over his shoulder to watch as Louis kneels on the bed, lube and his pretty tail ready to go. He makes it quick, the plug a small size. And afterwards, as he steps off the bed and gets onto his knees, the brush of the tail over the back of his thighs is perfect and already slipping him into that soft headspace he loves to be in with Louis. 

He stretches again, pushing his ass into the air. Louis laughs. “Aw, pretty kitty, aren’t you?” Lestat rumbles a little purr and nuzzles into his waiting palm. “You hungry, baby?”

 🞙 

Being fed in the morning while they play like this is as simple as kneeling before Louis in the living room, his knees comforted by a firm pillow, and letting Louis place pieces of fruit and sweet bread between his lips. This, with the barely-there jingle of the collar on his neck, has him floating and malleable before Louis has finished feeding him. At some point, he stops consciously opening his mouth for food and begins to track time in cycles of Louis’ thumb against his lip and food to chew in his cheek and Louis’ thumb against his lip again. 

“Open your eyes, baby,” Louis tells him, laughing breathily. 

He hadn’t realized he’d closed them, and sits up straight after he opens them, knowing how Louis feels about posture. 

“Good boy,” he says, combing the hair behind his ears. “You still sleepy, baby?” 

He nods sweetly, watching Louis from beneath his lashes. He is already ready for the day, in striped navy slacks and a sheer white longsleeve, but Lestat remains naked and bleary-eyed at his feet. He may be sleepy all day, if Louis keeps him down this deep. 

“I gotta work for a few hours, baby, but you can stay in your kennel for a little while. Sound good?” Then he’s scratching briefly at Lestat’s scalp, though he doesn’t wait for an answer. This is Lestat’s favorite part, where, after spending so many years always with something to do and somewhere to go, he gets to relax. He lets Louis choose what he will do and when he will do it and all he has to worry about is if his obedience will please him, which it always does. 

Louis walks and Lestat follows slowly behind on his hands and knees. Down the hall, Louis’ office sits in a corner of their monstrous house, large, frameless windows meeting on two walls. Louis’ desk is there, large but minimal, often covered in printed documents and notebooks and pens. There is a comfortable loveseat to one side and a single bathroom to the other, but the main feature of this room is the warm, sunlit corner beneath the windows in which Lestat’s kennel sits. 

He used to only sleep beneath Louis’ feet at the desk, and while he still sleeps in his dog bed there now and then, Louis knows how much he loves the kennel, how deep in his headspace he will float when he’s there, so he sends Lestat there more often than not, especially when he’s been good, especially when he deserves a treat. 

“Sit,” Louis commands, the door to his kennel open and tempting. Inside the cage waits his big bed, his plush toys, a thin blanket for when he’s cold, and a small bowl of water. His cock, hanging freely between his thighs, plumps with interest at just the thought of drinking from his bowl for the depth of his headspace it will put him into. He wants to go in, but Lestat is good, and he sits outside his kennel with his eyes trained on Louis. “Good. Now I only have to work for a little while, so you can nap, then we’ll play. Yes?” 

Louis crouches down to speak to him on his level and Lestat does not miss the opportunity to lick the tip of his nose, quick and gentle. Louis smiles at him for it, all the reward he needs. “You’re sweet,” he compliments, then gives him a soft kiss on the mouth, one that Lestat melts into and misses when it’s gone. 

“Okay,” Louis finishes, standing up. “Kennel.” 

Lestat crawls in, catching himself breathing heavily with excitement, and pads around until he’s comfortable. He lays on his tummy, rolls this way and that, and nuzzles into the bed to feel its firm thickness. He kneels over his water bowl, already feeling the fuzzy blur of subspace, just deep enough that he doesn’t hesitate to have a drink, lapping at the still, fresh water Louis must have replaced this morning. “Aw, thirsty, aren’t you, puppy?” Louis coos, reaching through the open door to praise him with pets. Lestat shivers at the contact, arousal warming in his belly. “Lay down, sweetheart,” he commands softly, and Lestat does as told. Louis helps him pull the blanket over his hips, helps him tuck his stuffie beneath his arm, and pets him again gently until he’s practically purring into his hand. 

Louis will go sit at his desk, and Lestat will doze to the sound of Louis’ typing, or his writing, or his soft voice talking on the phone, and Lestat will do nothing but bat at the soft toy hanging from the top of his kennel and play with his toys and nap, like a real puppy would. 

And when Louis closes the latch of the door and locks it, he feels safer than he’s ever felt before, knowing that Louis is the only one with the key. 

 🞙 

“Les?” 

Lestat wakes confused momentarily, then delighted when he remembers that he’s in his kennel, the sun warm on his bare skin, and his tail soft against his leg, his cock a little fat with excitement. Louis is reaching through the door and petting him gently, shaking him awake and waiting for Lestat to listen. He stretches as much as he can in the little space and sits up blearily. 

“There you are. Somethin’ came up, so I gotta go to the office for an hour or two.” 

Confused and sleepy, the only reaction drawn up in Lestat is immense and sudden sadness, so much so that he begins to cry. Louis’ eyes soften in shock. 

“Aw, baby, come here.” 

He lifts the latch on Lestat’s kennel, and Lestat twists his way through the narrow door while sniffling. He doesn’t even know why he’s upset, he only knows that the idea of Louis not being near him puts something like panic deep in his belly. He crawls into Louis’ lap and Louis holds him, chin hooked over the top of Lestat’s head. 

“Baby, I’ll be back before you know it. You can even stay in your kennel the whole time, and I’ll have your camera on so I can check on you. And I can even leave some music on for you. You want that?”

Lestat whimpers, though all this good news satiates him. Louis won’t leave the door locked, which makes it all quite silly, but at least he will have his soft bed and his toys and he can nap or play while his daddy is gone. Louis holds him until his crying winds down to faint sniffling. He wishes he could understand what it is about Louis and this play of theirs that renders him so emotional and speechless. But Louis understands his every feeling and thought anyway without needing words from him. 

“You okay now, puppy?” He asks softly with a kiss to his head. Lestat nods, itching for something to put in his mouth inexplicably. “You want to come before I go?”

He shakes his head quickly. His cock is still half hard in his lap, like it always is during, after, and before kennel time, but he doesn’t want to come yet. He wants his daddy to be proud of how patient and focused he can be. 

“Okay, sweetheart. You need to potty?” 

This heats Lestat’s cheeks so quickly he feels light headed. He is too embarrassed to say yes, but he doesn’t say no, and the result is a clicking of Louis’ tongue. 

“Of course my puppy needs to go out. Let’s go, baby. Up.” 

 🞙 

Lestat equally loves and hates this part of their game. He adores it for the headspace it sends him to, but sober embarrassment always kicks up fiercely when he’s on his hands and knees at the door to the back deck and he remembers that there is a non zero chance that someone might see him. He hesitates there, hiding behind Louis’ leg. 

“Come on, now, cher, don’t be shy. Go potty.”

The command makes warmth swirl in his tummy. If he gets any more aroused, will he even be able to go?

Louis nods his head toward the yard and Lestat is spurred into action with nothing more than a little tap against his cheek, just the mere suggestion that if he doesn’t obey, he’ll be punished. 

So he kneels  in the fresh grassy yard of their home, where a neighbor from next door could come out on their balcony at any moment and see him bare in the yard except for a long, sandy-blonde tail and be shocked, and he tries to pee. It takes a few minutes to focus on, as unused to this as he is, and heat flushes his cheeks the entire time, knowing that Louis is watching him. It feels like hours pass, then finally, with his eyes shut tight and his breath even and calm, he finally does it. Urine falls hot between his spread legs, splashing onto his thighs. 

Louis is waiting for him with a treat — a piece of frozen, chocolate covered strawberry that he licks from Louis’ fingers — and much praise. “Good boy,” he says, scratching behind his ears. Lestat was already halfway gone when he crawled back up to the patio on all fours, but he’s floating by the time Louis kisses him on the head and face with pure pride and happiness in his eyes. “Such a good boy for me, puppy. The best puppy I could’ve asked for.” 

Lestat’s cock hangs a little heavier between his legs as Louis wipes away his mess with a baby wipe, then leads him back upstairs. 

“Okay,” he whispers, “I’ll be back by two, alright? Your phone is right here,” he demonstrates, placing it on the desk, “and I’ll leave the door unlocked, but you are only to come out if it’s an emergency. Got it?”

Lestat can hardly hear a word he’s saying, but he nods dazedly, licking Louis’ palm when he reaches to pet under his chin. Louis smiles, kisses him on the forehead, then opens the kennel door for him. “Kennel.”

He enters and plops down in his soft fur bed with a comfortable wiggle. He is anxious to get back to his soft toys and his blanket and nap a little longer while daddy is gone. The sun is perfectly angled to warm him through the afternoon, he’s dropping deeper and deeper now that he’s been taken out, and he’s already half asleep when Louis closes the latch of the gate. 

“Good boy, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

 🞙 

Lestat dozes blindly for an hour, or so he guesses. He has his favorite stuffie under his arm and the cool air conditioning blowing on him just right and he wants to go back to napping, but his blurry subspace-addled brain won’t stop cyclically thinking about how hot it was to pee outside, how pleased Louis was that he could do it, how nice it would feel if only he was allowed to touch his cock. But he doesn’t need to touch, does he? All he has to do it lie on his tummy and rock his hips into his bed or into a toy and make himself feel good that way. It’s what a puppy might do, and Louis likes it when he is a good puppy. 

He trials one thrust against the plush lip of his bed with a whimper, then before he knows it, he’s chewing his stuffie’s ear into his mouth and whining wordlessly as he chases feeling against his velvety soft bed. He isn’t thinking of anything at all as he does it, except of the pride on Louis’ face, certainly he isn’t thinking about rules. He’s too little. He’s too far. Being taken outside is something Louis only does when he needs an extra push, and he was already so deep. Really, it’s his fault that he comes home to find Lestat leaking and hard and rolling onto his tail to feel his plug pressing against his prostate, panting open mouthed with his stuffed doggie under his arm and one of his floppy ears in his mouth. He enters the office to see Lestat on his back like this, his cock stiff and dripping on his firm, muscular tummy. 

“Lestat,” Louis admonishes softly, lighthearted disbelief in his voice. Lestat rolls over to see him with a bright and wide smile, nothing behind his eyes but joy. Daddy is home, he thinks, and he wiggles happily, butt in the air. “Les,” Louis laughs, “Have you been being naughty?”

He rumbles a small yip and grips at the door with his fingers, whining to be let out. Louis comes to the door and unlatches it, but doesn’t ask Lestat to get out yet. He crouches in front of the cage and smiles. “Have you been naughty? You look like you’re havin’ fun.”

Lestat stares at him wordlessly. His breath is heavy with exertion, but he suddenly has no mind for his cock or the pleasure he was just teasing in himself. 

“If I check the cameras later and see you were touchin’ yourself, you’re gonna be in trouble, mister, but right now you’re just bein’ my sweet puppy aren’t you?”

Lestat licks at the fingers Louis threads through the bars to say hello. 

“Yeah, you’re cute. Real cute. Why don’t you show me what you were workin’ on?” Louis lets him out of the cage and Lestst sits patiently on the rug, waiting for a command. 

“Roll over.” 

On his back, his arms fold uselessly in front of his body.

“Go on, then. Make yourself feel good. Show me.” Lestat cocks his head like he doesn’t understand. 

“Poor thing,” Louis coos. He grabs Lestat’s hips and waist and directs him to grind his hips up and down until Lestat lets out a whimpering moan. “Like that, go ahead.”

Louis watches him squirm and struggle for a minute, grinding down on his toy, then brushes his hair away from his face and whispers to him. “Puppy, I have a little treat for you.” 

Lestat perks up at the word. 

From Louis’ pocket, he pulls out a different plug, much thicker and longer, one he recognizes with vibrating settings and an attachment for a tail. But, of course, when Louis replaces his current tail with the new plug methodically, he switches out Lestat’s long tail for a new one, identical except that this one is dry and clean, no precome or lube or stray drops of urine in the fur. Because Louis knows that he likes very much to be clean. It is so considerate of him that he becomes overwhelmed by how much he loves Louis and how good care he takes of him. 

He wonders where the whining sound is coming from before he knows that it’s from his own mouth, wonders why his cheeks are wet before he realizes that he is crying, tears falling freely. 

“Oh, Lestat, what’s wrong?” He asks, taking Lestat into his lap. The new position pushes the plug against his prostate and he whimpers, squirming momentarily, as Louis wipes his eyes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know it feels good. You just get overwhelmed?” Lestat can’t even nod now, so overstimulated and blurry that he can’t do anything but whimper. “That’s okay, you’re a good boy.” 

He waits until Lestat has calmed down and deposits him back on the floor, helping him onto all fours again when he doesn’t understand his commands. After being helped onto his hands and knees, he is so tired and overstimulated by the tail brushing his leg and the thickness of the plug in his hole that has been replaced without stretching that he crumples to the floor, chest against the rug and butt in the air.  

Louis laughs at him and even this makes him feel warm inside with overwhelming love. He is speaking, but Lestat cannot hear him, as if he’s speaking to him through water. 

“Lestat,” he says more firmly, and this he recognizes. He peeks up at him and sniffles. “Kennel,” he repeats. 

Why does he go back in the kennel? He wants to sit with Louis, wherever he is. From the desk to the kennel is too far of a distance. He whines and stays still. 

“Kennel,” Louis repeats, firmer. “You’ve been so good for me, puppy, don’t disobey now. Kennel.” 

Lestat drags himself into the cage on wobbly knees. 

“Good, good boy. Good boy,” Louis repeats soothingly. He crouches down to pet him again once he’s settled and strokes his cheek. When he uses his sleeve to wipe away wetness from Lestat’s mouth, he realizes he’s been drooling. 

“I know you’re too down to pay attention, but you can touch yourself as much as you want and make as much noise as you want, I just gotta send some emails, okay? You have a cock ring on, so you can play as much as you want,” he repeats, more clearly, demonstrating by reaching for Lestat’s cock. It’s only then he notices that Louis has put a ring on him and that it’s quite tight. It’s restrictive and terribly uncomfortable, but when Louis squeezes his cock in his palm it sends zaps of pleasure radiating out from the contact point. He whines, open mouthed. Drooling again, and Louis wipes it away for him. He licks his fingers to say thank you. 

“Sweet puppy,” he says. “Be a good boy, lie down.” 

He does, distracted momentarily by his water bowl. He is so thirsty after the long morning he has had that he’s drinking and drinking until the water runs out. Louis reaches in to take it, refills it with filtered water from the kitchen, and replaces it, all with immense praise given to Lestat that he can’t identify except by tone. He hears “Good puppy,” and “sweet boy” and “yes, yes, good,” and little else. 

Then, Louis latches the door, locks the latch, and pockets the key. Then he turns on the plug. 

Immediately, Lestat is crying and whimpering and overwhelmed with pleasure. The hum of the vibrator and the feeling of his tail brushing his legs and his water bowl and the food he has eaten from Louis’ fingers and the toy he clutches to his chest and chews on for comfort — he is nothing but a little puppy, Louis’ little puppy, and Louis has put him here to feel good and do nothing else. He rocks his hips against the bed, and it feels good and better and better, then the vibrations grow stronger, then they begin to pattern themselves, starting out low and then climbing to a high, body-shaking strength before tapering out again. He comes, he thinks, his vision whiting out with pleasure, but his cock stays half-hard and dispenses nothing but precome. Lots and lots of precome. Enough to wet the bed beneath him, which he whines uncomfortably at.

He has no idea how long he stays like this, but he is exhausted. He has his doggie’s ear in his mouth, chewing on the soft fabric as he digs his fingers into it, and this little comfort keeps him sane. Everything else is thrumming pleasure radiating through him from his tail. 

At some point, the vibrations stop. He falls asleep, or passes out, he isn’t sure. When he wakes up again, it’s to the vibrations picking up once more. It’s a pattern again, a few seconds at the max strength, then a few of the weakest. Over and over again. He wakes up whining with tears leaking from his eyes, gripping the bars of his cage and shaking. 

Louis only turns the plug off whenever he’s satisfied, and when Lestat hears him unlocking the door, he is so excited to see him he sits up promptly, knocking the plug against his prostate at a different angle. More wetness grows beneath his legs, more and more and more, and then Louis is cooing at him and coaxing him from the kennel and onto the rug. 

“Aw, honey,” he says pitifully, “Did you have an accident?” 

And, oh. The wetness between his legs — he got so excited to see Louis that he started to pee. He’s never had an accident in his kennel before. The most sober thought he has is “Did I ruin my bed?” before he slips even deeper into nothingness. 

He starts to cry in earnest. Louis gives him his stuffie, and contains the mess in his kennel as best he can by moving the other soft toys to the back, away from the puddle, then he’s picking Lestat up under the arms and carrying him out of the office. He is sobbing and whimpering, his arms locked around Louis’ neck, and then he’s on their bed in their room, chewing his doggie toy rampantly. Louis retrieves a baby wipe, then returns to him, wiping away any mess and telling him it’s alright. 

“Aw, don’t cry, baby. You’re okay. You’re doin’ so good for me. It’s okay to have an accident. Daddy’s happy, actually, ‘cause it means you’re so deep you didn’t know what to do. You got excited to see me and went pee, just like a real puppy.” Louis punctuates this with a little tap on his nose. Already, he feels a little soothed. Already, he’s forgotten what he was so upset about. He squirms, pressing his legs together so that the head of his dick is stimulated by his thighs. He’s just like a real puppy. 

“I think you’ve been such an extremely good boy today, you deserve to come. Yes?” 

Lestat pants, excited for something he barely understands. All that he can process is touch and sight and the wet feeling of Louis kissing his lips, the stretched feeling as Louis fucks his tail in and out of his hole, the sound as he dispenses more lube onto his hand and feeds it into Lestat’s hole. Louis pushes his knees up to his shoulders and tells him to keep them there. 

Louis fucking him is always sensational, but when he’s down this deep and feels this good, it’s other worldly. He is all gasps, and whines, and high-pitched moans. Louis’ dick is so long it reaches parts of him he didn’t know could feel so good, and as a puppy, he has nothing to deal with it except tears, so he cries and cries. Louis kisses him, on the mouth and on the cheek, and whispers soothingly as he starts slow, then picks up speed, until his crying calms to only moans of intense pleasure. 

But, then, Louis’ thick cock is reaching so deep, touching every sensitive spot buried within him, that he’s bordering on a different sensation far removed from pleasure or pain. But he can’t speak it, can’t plead with Louis for mercy, because puppies don’t speak. And he wants so badly to be a good puppy. So he begins to whimper. 

“Aw, puppy, what’s wrong?” Louis coos, but his hips don’t pause in their rough momentum until a few seconds too late and it’s already happening before Lestat can stop it. He curls over as much as he can and clenches every muscle he has control over, but nothing helps when the fat head of Louis’ cock is pressed skillfully against his bladder. At first, a thin stream, then he gets a handle on it. Face wet and whimpering still. 

“Oh, puppy, that’s okay. You had another accident, that’s okay. Havin’ an accident because Daddy makes you feel so good… Did Daddy fuck the piss out of you?”

Unbelievably, Lestat starts to come again. There may not be any more semen, but there is full body shuddering and loud crying and violent pleasure coursing through him. And there is certainly pee. He can’t control it any longer, and no clenching or crying stops it. He pees and pees, soaking through the duvet, probably, and is he going to ruin another bed? 

Louis’ hips lose pace as he begins to pant. Lestat hooks his feet around his back and holds tight, and Louis chuckles. “It’s okay, puppy, Daddy’s not goin’ nowhere. I’m gon’ put a baby in you, ain’t I?”

Lestat cries out like he’s been struck, his sore cock kicking again, then Louis is coming finally, and it’s so deep Lestat swears he can feel it’s heat in his stomach as Louis ruts into him, moaning in his ear, a stream of, “Good puppy, good puppy, I love you, honey, such a good puppy.” 

 🞙 

After, Lestat gains consciousness in a hot bath with Louis right behind him, soothingly running a washcloth over his chest with sweet smelling soap. His collar is gone, so he knows he’s coming back up, but as small as he still feels, he begins to cry from overwhelm. Louis adjusts him, wraps his arms around him like a hug, and kisses his cheek. 

“That’s okay, baby, you can cry ‘bout it. You’re gonna be fine. I’m here.” 

And eventually, when he’s back up, and the bubble bath has gone cold, Louis carries him back to bed and tucks him in, his dog plushie waiting for them on the sheets of their freshly made bed, clean and dry like Lestat likes it. 

“Did I ruin my bed?” he asks in a small voice, once they’re in bed together, Lestat wrapped in his arms. 

“No,” he laughs, “I put it in the washer. But I’ve got extras.” 

“Okay good. Does that mean we can have puppy day again tomorrow?”