23
Sleep did not come easy that night. The raggedy blanket John lay on provided some creature comfort from the hard ground. The night sky was his only entertainment viewed between the roof of the kennel cage and two large tree limbs.
He assumed that all of the Hagan family was back home including Valerie's husband Randy. All snug in their beds, or getting ready for bed while their pet dogs either slept or looked out of their cage prisons. John imagined Valerie acting as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened over the last few days. How long could she hide his existence from her family?
This, and so much more on John's mind.
Valerie had not so much as spoke about Ashley much less give John an update as to her whereabouts and well being. It was as if he wasn't allowed such information due to his lowly status as a pet dog, or, perhaps Valerie didn't know either.
John should never have left the keys to these padlocks keeping him chained down on all fours and his hands as useless paws. Hell, even the dog collar was locked on. But leaving the keys at home during their little trip added a sense of reality to his dog/slave exploits, even Ashley unable to unlock him should she want to. How could John have forseen Ashley's encounter with the law to take such a sudden turn?
Now here he was, living the dog/slave lifestyle for real. New canine teeth, a bald head, and living in a dog kennel. It was taking a toll on his human self esteem. It was also taxing his mental capacity to understand even himself. He grew up different than everyone else. He had the self image of a dog. It helped him cope with his difficulties in social interaction and functioning in society. Being a dog made relationships difficult, especially now with Ashley. Valerie had seized the opportunity to bring John face to face with his own confusion. Maybe her deliberate torture of him was a blessing. He was a dog but hated being treated like a dog. Yet he wanted to be treated like a dog so he could hate it. Either Valerie understood his own masochistic mind and was helping him or she was just a bitch. John had to decide to man up--or let these mind games take him to the place he wants to be.
At the moment he didn't have much choice in the matter.
John hoped this new day would be the day Ashley showed up and took him home to the keys to unlock these cursed locks, chains, shackles and mitts.
He must of fallen asleep, finally, because the sound of the food cart woke him up. Manuel was feeding Boomer in the first cage. This would give John time to prepare for Manuel's coming harassment.
The dog/slave lifestyle never promised a world full of beautiful women only. Dog/slave's were animals, inferior to real humans including men. There was always the possibility of the wrong person, or wrong sex holding the other end of his leash. As long as it was just a dog/slave fantasy John never had to entertain that idea.
Maybe he should have.
"Good morning, dog," Manuel said, the food cart in front of John's cage. John said nothing as Manuel pulled the empty bowl from under the gate setting it on the cart and began to fill it with whatever was on the menu for this morning. "You sleep well, eh..?"
The idea of clearing the slate, starting over with Manuel crossed John's mind. "I did. And you?"
"You don't ask questions. Dogs ask no questions," Manuel said waving the spoon at him. So much for starting over and clean slates.
