made up immaculately. A dresser. A little table and two chairs. Tastefully
appointed. Nice, actually. Like a fancy hotel.
Well, except for the straps on the bed. And the dog kennel in one corner. And the total absence of
windows. Okay, a fancy hotel for weird perverts.
No sign of Mat.
“Normally,” Nikolai said, and the sound of his voice startled Dougie into falling to his knees, “I
would take this first meal with my pet. But normally, my attentions aren’t stretched so thin as they are with you and your brother. And I’ve left your brother unattended for long enough, I’d say. So I’d like
you to wait here for now. Someone will be by with food and drink for you. In the meanwhile,
please”—a sweeping gesture that encompassed the large bedroom, the two closed doors Dougie
assumed were to a closet and bathroom—“this is your space. Everything in here is for your use. For
you to groom yourself to the highest standard in service to your master. For you to stay fit and clean
and healthy. Feel free to explore it. To use what calls to you.”
Food. Toilet. Sink, hopefully toothbrush. Bed. That was all Dougie wanted at this point. Maybe a
book. God, he’d give his left leg to be sitting around bored out of his mind and trying to read
academic articles now.
Nikolai turned and left before Dougie could ask any questions. But that was okay—he’d
interpreted Nikolai well enough. Get clean. Brush your teeth. Shave. Look your best for me.
Anticipate your master’s desires.
Not that he gave a fuck about his “master’s” desires. But it’d feel good to scrape this scruff off
his face—he couldn’t grow a beard in evenly anyway—and he had no intention of giving Nikolai any
excuse to punish him. Especially since Nikolai wasn’t asking anything outrageous of him right now.
He found what he needed to shave and brush his teeth in the bathroom, and did both after gulping
down what felt like half a gallon of water straight from the tap. There was a shower tub, too, but even if he hadn’t just had a bath, he probably wouldn’t have used it. He just couldn’t stomach the thought
that maybe, somewhere, Nikolai might be watching. He might have to walk around naked 24/7, but
that didn’t mean he was going to jump at the chance to let the man watch him soap himself up. Which
was possibly the most pointless distinction he’d ever made in his life, but here, it was all he had.
By the time he was finished with what he could stomach to do in the bathroom, a covered tray
was waiting for him in the main room.
On the floor.
Dougie was stooping to pick it up with the intention of carrying it over to the table when he
realized . . . What if it was on the floor for a reason ? His stomach churned. He was so fucking hungry.
He didn’t have the time or inclination to agonize over this.
Anticipate your master’s desires. If I were a sick fuck on a power trip, would I want my victim
to eat at a table like a normal human being?
So why provide a table at all? some naive, dignified part of him replied.
It’s a test. It’s all a test. This whole fucking room. He’s watching from somewhere. Waiting to
see what I’ll do. I’m a rat in an electrified maze.
He sat on the floor in front of the tray. Cast a gaze around the room, searching out the camera so
he’d have somewhere concrete to look at and try to say telepathically, See, asshole? I’m a good dog.
Eating on the floor just like you hoped.
But there were no cameras that he could see, and he was fucking starving, and his telepathic
message seemed like something that would earn him the ominous “consequences.”
Whatever was on the tray smelled amazing. And maybe he hadn’t seen any cameras, but he was
sure they were there, somewhere, and he planned to behave accordingly. He turned his attention back
to the tray. Stared at it like the puzzle it surely was. Innocuous. Plastic cafeteria tray with an opaque plastic lid.
He pulled the lid
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