A Dog/slave Weeend

58

Frisky didn't dive right under the tarp. This little bit of rain was not enough to chase him away from the sights, sounds and smells he had access to in the front of the cage. But that changed when the single pings of raindrops on the tarp turned into a horrible drum beat.

Thunder crashed nearby drowning out the sound of leaves and branches forced to duel one another in the rising winds. This drove Frisky back under the tarp until his back was against the wall of wire links.

The rain had no mercy as it searched him out under the tarp carried by the wind shifting direction with every thunder clap.

Gravel shifted under the running foot of someone coming up the path. Randy raced to the gate of Frisky's cage and unlocked it, taking the lock with him as he yelled at Frisky. "Come on, John! Come on!"

No John. Not John. No. Frisky held his place dripping water from his nose.

"What's the matter with you?" Randy yelled waving his hand toward the house. "Come get out of the weather!"

The dog/slave noted no mention of 'John' in those words. Maybe he should go with him.

"What's your problem? Are you stupid? I'm trying to help you here!"

No mention of 'John' again. How could Frisky be sure it was safe?

Randy shook his head as water beat down on him. "What is it..? What does she call you? Frisky?"

Frisky stood up and looked at him trustingly.

"That's it! Frisky! Come on, Frisky! Into the house!" Randy threw his arms around like a mad man urging movement.

"What ever, idiot. I tried," Randy said heading back down the path. "If you want to follow me then come to the french doors to the master bedroom."

Frisky began the long journey on all fours down the path walking on his front paws and feet rather than his knees as he was prone to due. The length of his back steps were governed by the length of chain from his scrotum to the shackles. The round, metal mitts sunk into the gravel as he shifted his weight from back to front. The house came into view down the path just as Randy re-entered the glow of the inviting, warm, illuminated house through the french doors.

Rain barreled down on him, leaves and twigs flung onto the grass. The house was lit like a sanctuary in the ever darkening sky. Flashes of lighting lit up the side of the house as he approached it ever so slowly.

The french doors opened once again and Valerie's voice filled the air with concern. "Frisky!" Her head appeared and looked in the direction of the path to the kennel. "Frisky!" she said in an upbeat tone when she saw him crawling along toward her. "C'mon, boy!"

Fierce water daggers pelted his mostly naked body as he scurried along at a speed one would expect from someone hobbled in such a manner. He entered the awaiting open door brushing past Valerie's legs. It shut behind him.

Too much fanfare by Valerie who draped a towel over him, Frisky took only a few steps inside before seeing Randy standing in the bathroom door frame. He too was drying off after his daring rescue attempt.

"Oh, sure. Worry about him. I can dry off myself," Randy said sarcastically.

Valerie push dried Frisky with the towel in random spots. "I don't want it getting the carpet all wet."

"Should have thought about that before sending me out in this to get him." Randy turned and went further into the bathroom still roughing up his head with the towel.

"Don't you listen to him," Valerie said with a playful growl still dabbing at wet spots on Frisky.. "It was his idea." She used the towel to get whatever dirt there was on the mitts and on his knees and feet. The rest of him had been cleaned off real nice from the rain. Enough that Valerie was content with letting Frisky free to wander the master bedroom.

"Okay," she said standing up and looking down at her handiwork of a clean, dry dog/slave. "One of us should get back out there with the kids. You were the one gone for three days."

Randy reappeared with a dry shirt on. "You want me to leave you alone with him? I don't think so."

Valerie walked up tossing the wet towel through the door onto the bathroom floor. "Okay, husband! Fine," she said in a satirical way. She raised her hand and stuck out one finger. "Take it into my shoe closet and make sure it's quiet," she raised another finger, "and locked in place so it can't get around." The large lock from the kennel gate sat on the bathroom counter which Randy had brought in at Valerie's request. She picked it up and handed it to him putting him in charge of the dog/slave.

"What..?" Randy asked as to what to do with the lock.

"I'll go spend time with your children," she insinuated.

"What's this for?" Randy asked about the lock. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. If it finds a way out of the bedroom, you be the one to explain it to your family."

Randy put the lock back in Valerie's hand. "Make it quick and be careful."

"Honestly? Look at it," she waved in Frisky's direction. "It's harmless. Helpless even."

"It..?" Randy said. "You keep referring to John as an it."

"Is that your idea of a having a handy-man/slave around?" Valerie nodded toward Frisky all chained down, forced to all fours, all usefulness as a man locked away. It looked like it knew the conversation was about him.

"No."

"Is it your idea of a biological dog?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then it's neither a slave or a dog. Is it?" she asked. "It's a dog-slash-slave."

To escape this insane conversation Randy made his way through the large bedroom toward the door to the rest of the home. "It's John, your sister's boyfriend who has severe mental problems and you're encouraging it."

"People are different, Randy. Not everyone thinks like you."

Randy stopped with his hand on the doorknob ready for the attack on him for always insisting he's right, everybody else wrong. But Valerie surprised him with a different argument.

"Would you ask a mute person to 'repeat after me?'"

"No. Of course not."

"Would you expect a blind person to know when the light turns green?"

"Now you're talking nonsense."

"They are disabilities, Randy. Restrictions on their ability to connect with the outside world."

"Those are physical impairments," Randy said. "You can't..."

Valerie interrupted Randy. "Mental impairments are just as valid. What if someone just doesn't have the same instincts you do? Or they can't understand human values or traditions like you do? Or they just don't stand much of a chance in life because they are mentally wired different?"

"You're trying to tell me this is more than a fantasy? A sexual fantasy?" A tremendous thunder clap rocked the house making Randy jump a little. He turned the door knob and opened the door. Halfway out he said, "You've got five minutes to get back out here with us."

"I'll be there," she said as she walked toward the closet. "Frisky! Come!"