A Dog/slave Weeend

37

"Ahhh," Manuel again chuckled turning back to his feeding cart. "The Hagan lady is getting to you. See?" He stopped short to half turn and put his finger to his temple. "Getting into your mind."

"I mean, I was just wondering, you know..." John/Frisky said in what he knew was a lame defense. Then to clarify said, "In case this is all for real."

"How much more 'for real' do you think it can get, dog/slave?" Manuel turned the cart around slowly on its rotating front wheels. "You are chained down on all fours for over a week. Locked in a dog kennel for a week. Fed like a dirty animal. Used. While the Hagan family comes and goes as they please, not inhibited by thoughts of your captivity in any way. This, dog/slave, is as real as it gets."

Pushing the food cart to almost the vanishing point behind the foliage along the path to the house, Manuel paused and turned back. "When I put my dick through the fence and you suck it, you will be a better dog/slave." He laughed as he rounded the bend out of sight.

Argh, no, John/Frisky thought. That is not even an option. But perhaps the grounds keeper and dog feeder was right in some way, but he refused to think about it any further. It was only a matter of time until Ashley came for him with the keys to the steel mitts and ankle shackles.

It seemed his fate in life was now completely out of his hands. Or paws, as the case may be. One sister over eager to engage him on his own level, treat him for what he was in his heart, the other sister with the keys to stop it all and return him to the life he had blindly followed like a leaf in the wind.

It took much of the day well into the afternoon when the sister engaging him for what he was came walking up the trail with someone else. As the two passed the first of the kennel cages John/Frisky recognized Valerie's veterinarian, Dr. Russell. Dr. Debra Russell. In only a few strides they stood in front of his cage.

"Frisky," Valerie said, her pig-tail hanging out the back of a pink baseball cap. "You remember Dr. Russell?"

"Hi, Frisky," the young, blue eyed woman said down at him on the ground as if she really meant it. "How are you, boy?"

As Valerie unlocked the cage door John/Frisky could only wonder what the hell she was up to now. The kennel door swung out just enough for the two women to enter and the gate was shut again.

Valerie's matching pink sneakers stepped right under his chin so she could reach down and give his head a loving rub and scratch behind an ear. Her touch and gentile scraping of fingernails on his flesh was enough to fill a much vacant void in his life.

"Now you give Dr. Russell a proper dog-like greeting, Frisky."

John/Frisky changed position and sniffed Dr. Russell's hand when she put it up to his nose. Once this ritual was satisfied to Dr. Russell's experience with dogs, she began to pet his head. "Such a good boy," she said. "You're a good boy."

Now standing up straight both women looked down on him. "Has he been like this the whole week?" Dr. Russell asked indicating the mitts and chains.

"Yes," Valerie answered. "It helps keeping him in the spirit of the whole thing."

"Yeah, I... I suppose it would." That's when the small syringe and needle appeared as the doctor exchanged it between her hands.

"He knows what we're here for, Debra. Go ahead and explain it so that even a dog/slave can understand."

"This is canine hormones," Dr. Russell explained. She held up the capped syringe between them. "Just like someone undergoing sexual transitioning, they'll have the target sex's hormones injected into them as part of their therapy."

John/Frisky back away.

"Now, Frisky," Valerie said slowly opening and closing her eyes as a means of anger management. "Would I let Dr. Russell do anything to hurt you?"

"They are male, canine hormones," Dr. Russell assured him. "It will..." The young doctor glanced at Valerie for a brief moment seeking support but getting none, then returned her attention to John/Frisky. "It will help you cope better with the changes you are feeling."

How does she know what he's feeling, John/Frisky wondered? Nobody could understand the lifetime of quiet desperation he felt suppressing his dog-like nature, his masochistic, fantasy life of being kept as a dog, his longing to be treated and loved as a dog/slave.

"She's right, puppy. Besides," Valerie added,."It's what I want."

John/Frisky very much wanted to remind her that we don't always get what we want. But in this case he was talking about Valerie, who simply doesn't subscribe to that line of thinking.

As if to accentuate the point, Valerie said, "Do it," at which point the cute veterinarian stepped forward and grabbed his collar, holding him in place. In the skilled hands of a seasoned animal doctor a second is all it took to inject the contents of the syringe into the back neck muscles of the dog/slave.

With nothing further to react to, John/Frisky sat still as Debra backed away putting the cap back on the syringe, Valerie suppressing a self satisfied grin.

"You won't grow a tail or anything like that," Dr. Debra Russell assured from her lofty height above him.

"Oh, don't say that," Valerie smiled with a tilt of her head. "That would be absolutely adorable."

Debra wasn't sure what to make of this dynamic between her valued customer and beneficiary, and this poor guy she has chained down like a dog. Although Mrs. Hagan had assured her before that this was all in good fun, and that she had wanted to teach her sister's boyfriend a lesson or two, there seemed to be much more going on between them. Debra was more than happy to help out the Hagan family in any way possible since it had been them that had secured her a path through veterinary school, even though this required an extra layer of good friendship and trust to participate in.

"Is there anything else?" The young doctor asked the lady of the house.

"No." Valerie led the way out of the kennel cage, locking the door behind them. "Come in for a cup of coffee and I'll get you adequately compensated for your efforts."

Down the path they went leaving John/Frisky to his own thoughts. Thoughts that were more question than ideas or expressions of emotion. Questions he still had no answer to. So he forgot everything, pretended to arrange the old blanket on the ground with his locked, mitted paws, and lay himself down on it to bask in the freedom of having nothing to do. Then one more question entered his mind, is this what retirement is like?

John/Frisky snoozed on and off through the afternoon until Manuel emerged from around the bend in the path to the house pushing the dog's feeding cart.

"Chow time, doghs," Manuel spoke. "You doghs hungry? Yeh?"

While the other dogs danced and wagged their tails, John/Frisky just sat up to await his meal.

Manuel twisted the can opener as a second thought while addressing him. "What about you, dog/slave?" he said. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

"What? You too good to show Manuel some love like the other dogs? Look at them! Ready to piss themselves they are so excited."

John/Frisky frowned at the lack of canine agility and the weight of the locks, mitts and chains that buffered his every move.

The spoon clanged on the inside of the dog food can as Manuel emptied it into the dog bowls. "Just because you have no tail you think you are better than these two?"

"N-- No," John/Frisky answered from inside the kennel.

"Then you should make it a merry, happy time to see me with your dinner." Manuel opened the other kennel gates and deposited the fresh food on the ground. The other dogs stayed in their assigned cages not wanting to miss out on their meals. With a slight grunt, Manuel wheeled the cart in front of John/Frisky's cage. He tugged on the gate padlock. "Then there is you, the Hagan lady's favorite pet." He laughed before bending over and reaching for the dog bowl under the gate. With a metal on ground scraping and another well placed grunt, Manuel was able to set it on the cart to refill it.

"You spend the evening in the Hagan house?" he said.

John/Frisky said nothing.

Manuel opened another can, this time it was chili. "Mr. Hagan should be becoming suspicious by now. Eh? He always working to provide very well. Too busy to find out what is happening right under his own nose."

"Nothing happened last night, Manuel," John/Frisky finally said.

"Ah," Manuel exclaimed lifting a styrofoam food container and dumping the contents into John/Frisky's food bowl. "The Hagan lady always leaves you her left overs on the cart for you. Fine food. Even a dog/slave eats better than Manuel, eh?"

He leaned over and slid the food once again under the gate for John/Frisky to eat. Manuel stood erect lacing his fingers through the chain link to watch him eat. Several bites in, Manuel said, "Looks like I'll only be feeding you a few more days. Eh?"

John/Frisky stopped eating, whiped his mouth with his right forearm. "What do you mean?"

"I over hear the Hagan lady on the phone."