“Come on,” he said, grabbing the leash and clipping it to my collar.
My stomach churned. The leash didn’t mean anything good. I half-expected him to grab the mitts, too, but he thankfully left those to the side.
“Down,” he told me, gesturing to the floor.
I got down, getting onto all fours.
He rewarded me with a smile then ruffled my hair, smoothing a few strands behind my ears.
Of all the places my thoughts could’ve gone, they went to the fact that I wasn’t going to get to see a barber any timesoon. Would he just let my hair continue to grow, or would he cut it for me?
It was such a bizarre, random thought that it momentarily gave me pause, and the tug of the leash against the collar caught me off guard. I started moving before my thoughts had even cleared, stumbling along behind him as yet another small reality set in.
Even something as simple as a haircut was in his hands.
“You want some food, boy?” he asked.
My heart sank. Here we were, back to the dog thing. Was he going to make me bark again? “Yes, Master,” I whispered.
He wiggled a finger at me. “That’s not what I want to hear, Toby.” His voice was oddly playful, so much at odds with the major stakes of trying to obey him and be what he wanted when I didn’t know how.
I whimpered then let out a little bark, staring down at the tiles of the kitchen floor instead of looking up at him.
“Good boy,” he told me, running his fingers through my hair again. “Over here.”
He led me to a mat, where he set down two dog bowls. One, he filled with cereal, and the other, he filled with milk.
I had the urge to laugh, but I stopped the sound before it could escape — hysterically — from my throat.
At least the cereal wouldn’t get soggy.
At least he wasn’t feeding me.
Fuck, how could I even be fighting the urge to laugh at this?
“Go on,” he said. “Eat up. No hands.”
Duh.
Instead of speaking, I leaned down, grabbing a few pieces of Cocoa Puffs in my mouth and feeling like I was eating kibble instead of real food. Not that cereal was real food, not really, but it was a step up from the alternative.
I got a mouthful of milk then went back to the cereal.
Right.
It wouldn’t get soggy.
Every cloud had a silver fucking lining, right?
What did it say about my life that this was mine?
2
GRIFFIN
Ipalmed my cock surreptitiously through my pants as I watched him eat. He gave in to me yet again as he crunched on what might as well have been dog food from the looks of it. But I wouldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t give him something that would taste terrible… Not as long as he kept eating and behaving. If he tried to stop, there would be consequences, but as long as he obeyed, there was no reason not to spoil him.
I’d have to make sure he got a good meal that evening to compensate, but this as a snack was just too hot to pass up.
