A Dog/slave Weeend

22

"Aey, dog!"

The chained links of the fence rattled. John stirred in the dirt, feeling much better after sleeping the day away.

"Why are you locked in there?"

He looked up in the direction of the voice. Peering in at him from the gate was Manuel, fingers laced through the chain link. John had no immediate answer to the question.

"The Hagan lady has a new hobby, eh?"

The dog/slave got up on all fours and stretched. He wondered what time it was, even what day it was. "Phone," John said. "Have you got your phone on you?"

"Ah, no. No, no, no. The Hagan lady told me to treat you like a dog."

"Well, I'm not a dog. At least, not right now. I think..."

"What's a dog need a phone for?"

"My work. I'd like to at least let them know I'm still alive," John considered the violations of the many call-in policies he's already broken. It was a dead end, shit job anyway, but it payed the bill and this was not the way he wanted to go out.

Manuel looked in the direction of the house hidden by trees and foliage. "Boss lady says no phone for the dog."

John sat on his haunches.

"You weren't here for breakfast. You spend the night in the Hagan house?"

John didn't answer.

"You and the Hagan lady have some fun last night, huh?"

Actually, it could have been a good time if not for the fact he was forced to perform like a trained animal. Yet, John had to admit to himself it was one of his darker fantasies that he always wanted to live out. It was a trip down the rabbit hole of being completely dominated, humiliated. If not for the strong drink, he would have been scared for life. The last person on earth he thought would instigate it would be Valerie. She hated him. Well, not hate, but disliked... no, disapproved of him.

"Mr. Hagan is always gone. Making money. So much money they can buy and sell people now. Eh..?"

"She didn't buy me. And... I don't think she's going to sell me," John said. "I'm actually her sister's boyfriend."

"Does the Hagan lady do this to all her sister's boyfriends?"

"I sincerely doubt it."

"Slide your bowls under the gate. I'll feed you now."

John was starving. The bowls ground their way across the dirt as he pushed them with the metal paws until they were accessible to Manuel. He easily bent over and picked them up putting them on the cart.

"You like being the Hagan's pet dog?" Manuel began putting stuff in Johns dog bowl.

"I like to think of myself as my girlfriend's pet dog," said John. "That kind of came out wrong. I mean I'm in a relationship with Valerie's sister."

"Yet you are a pet dog. The Hagan lady thinks you are a pet dog. I assumed she claimed you the way she spoils you."

"What do you mean?"

"She fed you re-fried beans mixed with the dog food the other dogs eat. Today she gave me chicken and rice to mix in to feed you. You must have made her happy last night."

John said nothing, glad inside that he was eating human food mixed in with dog food at least.

"I've been told to say nothing. Not even to Mr. Hagan. The Hagan's have been very nice to me. Take care of me. So I say nothing," Manuel said putting the two bowls back on the ground and slid them under the gate. "You please Mr. Hagan, too?"

John felt his reputation slipping out of his control, not that he had one with these people. He admitted to himself it would be hard for anyone who see's him chained up like this, sporting a dog collar and padlocks, to not form their own conclusions about him.

"No. I'm ah..."

"You suck on man's cock?"

"No!" John blurted out, hoping his adamant answer didn't offend Manuel's sexual orientation. After all, he was dependent on him to feed him for now.

Manuel laughed. "I stick my pee pee through the fence and you suck on it, eh?"

"Ahhh... No?"

"Nobody can see. I won't tell."

"No. No thank you," he said awkwardly never before in a conversation such as this. The dog bowls full of food and water within reach now seemed so far away at Manuel's feet.

"You're a dog. A slave dog. Fed and cared for like a pet. You do as you are told."

John looked away uncomfortably into the foliage in the direction of the house.

"Uh-huh..." Manuel murmured hovering at the door for a long moment. He glanced at the lock on the chain link gate to the kennel giving it a test pull to make sure it was locked. "The Hagan lady likes you. Keeps you safe in there. And me out here."

Swallowing hard, John glanced up at Manuel then back toward the house. Manuel bent over to reclaim the dog bowl full of food from under the gate. John looked back at his dinner being taken away.

Manuel stood up holding the bowl. "I take care of you, you take care of me. You take care of me, I take care of you, eh..?"

Silence.

"You want food, boy? You hungry?"

God, was he hungry. Drunk all morning with no breakfast. John knew he should eat.

"You want me to feed it to the other dogs? Make them happy?" Manuel held the bowl up slightly. "I can share your food with your little friends here?"

John shook his head from side to side.

"Beg for it, dog. Do as you're told. Beg for it, dog."

John faced forward reluctantly and slowly lifted his paws up in front of himself. Small pebbles he had not before concerned himself with now cut their way into the flesh of his knees.

"Good boy," Manuel chuckled. "That's a very good dog. Slave dogs do as they are told. Don't they?"

John remained on his knees, begging.

"Don't they?" Manuel demanded.

The dog/slave shook his head up and down.

"Answer me."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

A hearty laugh escaped Manuel's mouth. "Sir..." he laughed again. "That is a good start. Sir..." he repeated again. "Now, roll over, dog."

John lowered himself gently onto the hard ground and rolled from his right side to his left. Like his self esteem, he could feel specks of dirt fall off as he rolled.

Manuel bent back down and slid the dog bowl back under the gate where John could get to it. He stood up and pointed at John getting back on his knees. "Rich people own you, but they pay me to care for you. You and I -- We will do this again. You will learn your place, dog."