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Shane Hollander was one of the most notorious crime bosses in New York. He’d already made a name for himself in Montreal before moving, taking down one of Canada’s biggest organizations while there. Once he came to New York he’d moved hard and fast to establish himself and in the past eighteen months.
Something that helped Hollander, something he hadn’t been publicly seen without once, was his dog, always collared and ready to serve his owner in anything he needed.
You could often tell which mood Shane Hollander was in based on where his dog was in his office. If he was laying down in his bed beside Hollander’s desk it usually meant that he was relaxed and not expecting any trouble. If his dog was sitting down next to Hollander, head in his lap, it usually meant Hollander was in a good mood, perhaps celebrating something but not relaxed enough to have his dog completely off guard. Now where you didn’t want to see Shane Hollander’s dog was standing behind him, fully alert, his sharp eyes scanning the room, ready to attack at a moment's notice. This usually meant your chances of leaving the room were small, this meant the boss was angry and the boss being angry made his dog angry.
Now Shane Hollander’s dog was not an actual dog, but rather a 6ft 6” Russian called Ilya Rozanov. And where the name Hollander had been known before he got here, Rozanov was a name that hung like a shadow over New York City. The power struggle caused by his father, Grigori Rozanov, dying resulted in the Rozanov family destroying itself. His eldest son, Andrei, ended up dead, killed by one of the many enemies his Father had. Ilya Rozanov on the other hand disappeared, not being seen for years until he appeared in New York with Hollander.
Very few people know how they met or how the relationship became what it was, but what people do know is that no one was more loyal to Hollander than Rozanov.
It was established very quickly that questioning the dynamic between the two of them would not be tolerated. The first time Rozanov was seen, laying in an actual dog bed someone had said, “He really is your dog isn’t he Hollander? You truly did bitch Rozanov.” and then before anyone could even blink, Rozanov (who was presumed asleep) jumped up, approached the person who spoke and snapped their neck. After, he simply turned around and accepted a pat on the head from Hollander before sitting back down in the dog bed.
After that people very quickly accepted their dynamic, knowing that any complaints or disapproval they had weren’t worth dying for. And anyway most people in the New York crime scene had seen worse things than a man being treated like a dog.
When Miller walked into the room his stomach dropped immediately. Hollander was seated behind his desk, holding a knife in one hand, the other clasping a leash leading behind him to Rozanov, whose eyes snapped onto him as soon as he walked into the room. He had his suspicions about why he was here but seeing Rozanov up and alert meant his fears were right and he had been caught.
When Hollander looked at him his face didn’t move, he simply gestured to the chair opposite him with the knife in his hand placing it down on his desk pointing directly towards him. He approached the desk and sat in the chair. Hollander was leaning over to the top drawer of his desk, picking up a stack of photos that were sitting at the top before leaning back and throwing them onto his desk.
When he looked over at them he saw a collection of photos of himself meeting with various people, going into different buildings. People who were working against Hollander, buildings owned by people who wanted to challenge and weaken him.
“Explain.” was all Hollander said, clearly not in the mood for conversation.
“They uh, we- they just wanted to ask some questions about you, that’s all, I promise boss.”
“Hmm, but these photos were taken over the course of six weeks, surely they didn’t have that many questions. Answer honestly this time.” Hollander replied, his voice calm and collected like it usually was.
Miller opened his mouth to speak but paused as he saw Hollander move, reaching up to unhook Rozanov’s leash from the collar around his neck. He didn’t say anything but the threat was clear. Lie to me again and my dog will punish you.
“I heard people talking that you were weak, or at least getting weaker, I thought if I helped them it could help me if that was true” he said, very quickly stumbling over his word as he rushed to get them out.
Hollander didn’t break eye contact before saying, “Ilya.” Rozanov moved immediately, making his way around the desk towards the man. His fist connected with his jaw as soon as he was close enough. The man's head fell but he felt a rough hand in his hair pull his head back up, holding it in Hollander’s direction, “Look.” Rozanov growled low in his ear, “Do not disrespect.”
Hollander’s face remained carefully controlled, “He’s already disrespected me enough. Do you think I’m fucking stupid, we’ve been taking thier territory for months and everyone knows that. You are still lying to me. Ilya hurt him again.”
Rozanov released his grip on the man’s hair as he moved around him, standing in front of him before punching him in the stomach, causing the man to cry out and double over before he felt himself once again being pulled up by Rozanov. Forced to make eye contact with Hollander.
“This is what I think happened. You bought into some stupid plot to destabilise me. People everywhere are threatened by me and you thought you could increase your standing by opposing me. So now you will tell me what you spoke about and who else was there so I can deal with them. What did you speak about, and don’t think about lying, he’ll know.” Hollander said, nodding towards Rozanov.
Miller didn’t say anything, his head being held still, directly in Hollander’s direction. He saw his eyes shift up to Rozanov before he felt the grip in his hair disappear. Rozanov suddenly grabbed his wrist, gripping hard as his other hand gripped his thumb before snapping it with ease causing the man to scream where he sat, face distorting in pain. Rozanov smacked him across the face before gripping his hair once again forcing his eyes to meet Hollanders.
“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough,” Hollander said, picking up the knife on his desk and leaning forward, “Everytime I ask you a question and you don’t answer or lie, Ilya here will break something, so it is up to you how much you have in tact before this is over, not us. So let's try again. What did you speak about?”
“Nothing, I promise, it was just discussions about territory I swear.” He’d barely finished speaking before he felt his thumb on the other hand snap in Rozanov’s grip. “You have eight fingers left,” Shane said with a sadistic smirk on his face, “let's see how many more it takes for you to speak.”
It wasn’t until Rozanov was about to break his wrist did he scream for them to stop and spoke. Telling Hollander everything. “See now why couldn’t you just say that from the beginning, could have saved yourself so much pain.” Hollander said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy.
He panted and his broken hands hung uselessly from his arms as he dragged his head up, “They’re coming for you Hollander, a fag-” he started before he was interrupted by the bullet put in his head. Rozanov stood behind him, gun in hand, his face furious.
Shane gasped slightly before looking up, “Ilya,” Shane sighed, “I wasn’t finished yet, I was gonna use him to make the others talk.”
“Does not matter, I do that for you. No one who insults you gets to live.” Rozanov grunted. A smile broke out on Shane’s face, bright and genuine, “Get over here.” he said, holding his hand out to Ilya.
Ilya made his way round to Shane, his face suddenly apprehensive and sad looking. He reached Shane and took his hand, “Hey baby what’s wrong?” Shane asked, peering up at his husband. “Just want to defend you, hate when they insult you.” he muttered.
“Oh but you did so well baby, he told me everything I wanted to know because of you, my strong beautiful dog.” Shane praised, reaching up to stroke Ilya’s cheek, “So good for me aren’t you, the best dog I could ever want.”
“Really?” Ilya asked, lifting his head up to look at Shane, “The best dog for me I promise. Always.” A soft smile grew on his face as he rubbed his cheek into Shane’s palm. “Well that was the last one for today, so let's go upstairs and you can show me just how good you are, yeah.” Shane said, standing up and taking Ilya’s hand and making his way to the door leading to their bedroom.
But he paused and turned when he felt Ilya not following him, getting ready to admonish him but immediately softening when he saw Ilya holding his lease up towards Shane. “Please.” Ilya asked, a soft blush appearing on his cheeks. “Of course,” Shane responded before taking it from Ilya’s hand and attaching it to his collar, “Let’s go puppy”
When they got to their room Shane walked Ilya over to their bed and sat him down, still holding his leash but now standing over him. “You’ve been a very good dog today, Ilya. What do you want for your reward?”
Ilya looked surprised at being given a choice before saying, “I want to eat you out.” Shane raised his eyebrow at Ilya. He could tell there was something else Ilya wanted to ask for so he just waited, “I want you to use me. Please. I want to feel owned by you."
“Ok puppy, you want me on my knees or sitting on your face.” Shane asked casually, as if he was simply asking for the weather causing Ilya to groan. “Fuck Shane please sit on my face, will make you feel so good.”
Shane shivered slightly at hearing his name being spoken. To most people he was ‘Mr Hollander’ or ‘Sir’ but to Ilya he was just Shane. “Take your clothes off and lay on the bed.” Shane commanded, dropping Ilya’s leash and beginning to strip himself, staring directly at Ilya who hadn’t moved and was still just staring at Shane.
Shane stopped half way through undoing the buttons of his shirt and walked back up to the bed, patting Ilya on the cheek, not quite as hard as a slap but hard enough to tell Ilya he had done something wrong. “Aww puppy are you already too dumb to follow an instruction. Take off your clothes and lay on the bed. You have been so good today, don't ruin it now.” Shane’s kind tone mixed with the degrading words cause a soft whimper to leave Ilya before scrambling into action.
He threw off his clothes quickly, discarding them recklessly on the floor and then laying down on the bed. His cock hard and thick against his abs leaking. When Shane was also naked, with his clothes folded and placed on the chair in the corner of the room he looked over to where Ilya was laying, cock twitching at the sight before looking down at the floor and seeing Ilya’s clothes scattered on the floor.
He grabbed Ilya’s shirt and walked over to the bed. “What’s this?” he asked, dropping the shirt onto the bed. He grabbed Ilya’s cock at the base, holding it upright, before pulling his other hand back and slapping it hard. Ilya’s back arched off of the bed and he cried out. Shane held the base very tightly, “I did not train a messy dog, I trained a killer, I trained you to be tidy. Not to throw your clothes around like a mutt.”
“Fuck Shane I am sorry. Was too excited.” Ilya panted, cock throbbing as he writhed in Shane’s grip.
“I know baby,” Shane said, voice softening, “But I can’t have you getting sloppy now can I. Tidy up fast and I will still give you what you asked for, you have forty-five seconds, be back on the bed by then.”
Shane released his grip on Ilya’s cock and he sprung up off of the bed immediately, scrambling to tidy his clothes up as quickly as possible. Shane just stood and watched endearingly, as Ilya moved with the same efficiency he did whenever Shane asked him to do something. By the time Ilya was finished and back on the bed, Shane had counted way past forty-five seconds, but the way Ilya looked up at him from the bed made it impossible for Shane to actually punish him right now.
“Well done, you did it baby, you are so good for me.” Shane praised, relishing in the way Ilya lit up.
“I did it in time?” Ilya asked desperately.
“You did baby, good boy.” Ilya beamed up at Shane and relaxed against the bed. Shane looked down at the man on the bed, at how Ilya’s face was so soft and bright as he looked up at Shane. The man who to most other people was the embodiment of violence was now staring up at as if he hung the moon
“I love you so much Ilya.” Shane said before leaning down and kissing Ilya hard, pushing his tongue into his mouth. The kiss was wet and sloppy, lacking any real finesse as Shane claimed Ilya’s mouth, biting Ilya’s lip as he pulled up.
Ilya panted beneath Shane before letting out a soft, “Love you too Shane”
Shane moved and positioned himself over Ilya, “open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Keep your hands to yourself until I say. I am not tying you up because I trust you to be good for me. Will you be good for me puppy?”
“Yes Shane I will be good.” Ilya promised, desperation filling his voice. Shane lowered himself down and was met immediately with Ilya’s warm tongue, licking and sucking at his hole. “Fuck yes thats it puppy.” Shane moaned above Ilya.
Shane lowered himself further down and began rolling his hips against Ilya’s face, who immediately began to lap at Shane’s hole. He groaned and pushed himself down against Ilya’s tongue, feeling his rim give way to the tip of Ilya’s tongue.
“That’s it puppy, use that tongue, fuck, so good.” he said, his cock now hard and leaking down onto Ilya’s abs as he rode his tongue.
“Put a finger in me baby, open me up for your cock.” Shane ordered, and without moving his tongue at all a finger pushed into him, quickly finding his prostate while Ilya’s tongue licked into him. A second quickly joined and Shane groaned as he pushed back down onto them.
“Ok ok that’s enough. Want you in me.” Shane said, and Ilya stopped, gently pulling his fingers out and letting Shane get off him. He climbed off of his husband and looked down at him. His face was wet with his own spit and his eyes were slightly unfocused. The leash attached to his collar hung off the bed and Shane grabbed it, tugging it slightly to get his attention.
“Hey puppy.” he said as Ilya looked at him with a smile, “I’m gonna ride you now yes? Fuck myself on your big cock?”
“Please Sir. Will fill you so good.” Ilya said.
“I know you will.” Shane said, dropping the leash for a moment to open their drawer and grab lube. He picked it back up and hopped back onto the bed. Shane wasted no time in grabbing Ilya’s cock which was leaking and throbbing in his hand. Ilya keened and bucked up his hips, causing Shane to tut and slap the tip of his cock.
“Stop humping the air like a bitch in heat and be patient.” He scolded, smiling when Ilya whispered a soft, “sorry Sir.” Shane opened the lube and drizzled it onto Ilya’s cock, enjoying the way Ilya sucked in a breath and the coldness.
Shane got up and settled himself over Ilya’s cock, reaching back to hold it up for himself before sinking down onto Ilya. He clenched his teeth as he sank down, the stretch almost too much, before bottoming out. He tightened his hold on the leash, pulling hard to choke Ilya slightly as he
began bouncing up and down, fucking himself hard and fast.
Ilya groaned and pushed his hips up into Shane, jamming his cock against his prostate so perfectly Shane felt close already. “Stroke me baby. The second I cum fill me up.” Ilya whined in acknowledgement and reached up to stroke his cock.
After only a few pumps of Ilya’s hand Shane came hard, covering Ilya’s body and yanking hard on Ilya’s leash, choking him at the exact moment he came hard, Shane grinding down to get all his cum as deep as possible.
Shane loosened his grip, letting Ilya breath and catch his breath. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips and got up off Ilya’s cock, leaving him panting on the bed. He left to grab a cloth to clean Ilya with and when he came back Ilya was staring at the door to their en-suite with a smile on his face.
“Love you Shanya.” he said as Shane wiped the cum off his body.
“So perfect Ilya. I love you too.” Shane said, climbing into bed when he was done and letting his perfect puppy snuggle into him.