By Pup Shaggy
I was at my ‘favourite’ spot; lying down in my pup basket besides Alex’s armchair, and padlocked to stay that way. Only I’d actually settled down here willingly… at first… alright, so how the hell was I supposed to resist Alex and his knee high biker boots? He’d told me sit and stay… which I had… but the second I spotted those harness boots, I leapt out of the basket with such vigour you’d think I’d have been shocked with electricity.
And thus, I got dragged back and locked this way… again… blindfolded too… again… Not that there was much I could see from this position anyway. And then he’d left me like that to think. He hadn’t scolded me come to think on it but being stuck here was enough to drive me mad. I heard a clock ticking somewhere, but I’d lost count ages ago. I’d counted so many minutes on that damn thing the sound alone started annoying me… like an alarm at 3 in the morning waking you up, reminding you to get ready for work. The ticking of this clock reminded me every second to be patient and wait. But I couldn’t.
It was a couple hours since I heard the front door close. For a good few minutes I thought he was just playing a game; in that he was actually just sitting on the sofa watching me. Enjoying my discomfort; watching me sweating and shuffling trying to be quiet. But then I heard his bike outside roar away and it dawned on me that I was alone. To be fair, it could have been someone else’s bike, and he could still be in the room watching me… But when I’d started grunting and groaning, struggling as much as I could and I’d have thought he would have at least chuckled or laughed… or something.
Jake cut the end of his Asylum 13 cigar and lit his torch, slowly rotating the cigar in his lip as the flame lit the tip as he took drags. Taking nice deep drags and exhaling the smoke, he savored the flavor of the stick while watching the bound Meat in front of him continue to sweat. Thick clouds of smoke surrounded his face that was slightly obscured by the leather Muir cap. This encounter is going to be deliciously slow. He wants Ian to realize exactly what he’s up against. Jake has been setting this trap and preparing the bait for a very, very long time.
Brett Wilson awoke with a groan. His shoulders were on fire. He slowly sat up on the couch, blinking his eyes awake. The lights were dim as he tugged his shirt open. He’d fallen asleep! He didn’t even remember coming home that day, it was all such a blur.