Even though I knew it wasn’t bullshit, not really, I had to get myself together. Thinking this way wasn’t going to help.
Neither was thinking about the fact that I was both thirsty and had to use the bathroom all at once, which wasn’t a pleasant combination.
Time passed.
He didn’t come back, and I thought about what he’d said. He might not even hear me. I might end up obeying and barking like an idiot, while he might not hear me at all. How long would I have to keep it up?
It ended up taking at least an hour, with me barking half-heartedly every few minutes. I’d take off my fucking pants. Hell, at this point, I might even just take my underwear off too. There was a point where I just couldn’t care as much about clothes as I did about water and warmth.
I didn’t really want to feel his eyes on me, heated and anticipatory, and I wiggled around to take my pants and boxers off under the blanket. I wrapped them around me as best I could, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. This way, though, I wouldn’t have to show off the goods before he did what he’d said.
Assuming he kept his word.
Finally, after who knew how long of awkward barking here and there, I heard the door open and footsteps follow. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. All I knew was that I was fucking cold, and I was fucking thirsty, and why the fuck was he carrying two dog bowls in his hand?
Dumb question, Ryder. Really dumb question. He wants you to be a dog or some shit.
“You barked?” he asked, in a mockery of someone who might’ve been saying ‘you rang?’
I glared at him. “You promised you’d turn up the thermostat and give me water if I took the rest of my clothes off.”
He nodded. “So…?” he prompted.
Sighing, I pulled the jeans and boxers out from underneath the blanket and threw them at the foot of the cell door — no, I had to be real— the fuckingcagedoor. It might’ve been a tad bit oversized for a kennel, but that was what he thought of it as, wasn’t it?
He took the clothes and dropped them on a nearby shelf, setting the two bowls beside them. He went straight to the thermostat — thank fuck — and adjusted the settings.
“How do I know you’re not just making it colder in here?” I asked. I was so cold that I thought my teeth were going to start chattering, and the idea of just curling up there with a blanket on a thin dog bed… No thanks.
“You’ll just have to trust me, Toby,” he said as he returned to the table and grabbed the water bowl.
“My name isn’t Toby,” I said stubbornly. He wasn’t going to strip away my identity as easily as he’d stripped away my clothes.
Well.
As easily as he’d gotten me to strip away my own clothes, which was somehow worse. At least if he’d manhandled me, I’d have had that excuse. This way, though? I couldn’t say he’d done a damn thing except make it colder and not give me any water.
It felt stupid, in retrospect, like things I should’ve easily been able to resist.
They hadn’t been.
He pushed one bowl through an opening at the bottom of the cell. I stared at it, then him, then back at it.
“What the fuck is that supposed to be?”
“Your water bowl. I’ll get you a stand so it doesn’t hurt your back later on, but you haven’t earned that yet.”
How could he sound so casual?
“I’m not drinking out of that.”
“It’s brand new,” he said, and he flashed me this smile that was all teeth, that made him look even more like a monster than he had before. “Besides, dogs drink out of toilets. Aren’t you so lucky your master takes care of you?”
The words sent a chill through me. There wasn’t a toilet in the cell for him to make good on his promise, which… I didn’t know if that was better or worse. It didn’t make the threat less terrifying, and I was sure he knew it as well as I did.
“You aren’t my master,” I said instantly.
The heater had kicked on, the familiar smell filling theair, and I breathed slowly out, hoping it would hurry the fuck up…
