Part 23 – “A Pet”
“Come here, boy!” Russell said in a higher pitch, as he clapped his hands twice.
He had no clue if it actually worked; he just heard somewhere that speaking in English and with a higher register was more effective for training a dog. It was sensible enough, since dogs could hear only sounds in a higher frequency, but does it work, really?
If this was the human equivalent to feeling a bass pulse while listening to music, then it was absurd that it would be possible to assign meaning to it. In the case of a dog though, it should have thought processes and concepts different from ours, so it might actually work.
If he wished to find out the validity of this myth, then he was in precisely the right place with precisely the wrong test subject, for the one who bounded towards him on all fours was none other than James, his ostensibly human slave who had just recently asked to wear a collar and leash permanently.
He acted like a dog, but he was, well, still human.
Conclusion: Healthy, educated Americans understand English (even) if spoken in a higher-pitched voice.
Who would have thought? Positively groundbreaking.
James passed by Russell’s legs on the left, circled to the right and stayed, all with remarkable agility, considering this was after two weeks of training as a dog, which had substituted submissive training.
I say this, when this training is technically still classifiable as submissive training. After all, dogs are traditionally portrayed as being loyal servants of men.
Hearing a click of the fingers, James spun himself around to better see his master, as it would be from the right hand he would understand what he was ordered to do.
First, Russell pointed at his eyes, and James looked straight up at him, with his body tensed up and prepared for what he was about to be ordered to do. Next was a command to sit; Russell angled his palm at the ceiling and brought it upwards, and James responded easily enough, easing the tension in his muscles as he did.
Then came the command to stay; Russell walked slowly backwards for a full minute with his palm extended until his back was against the opposite wall. James shifted about on his hands and ass; the minute felt like hours, and contrary to what one might believe, he found this command hardest to obey. He wanted to be up close with his master, but this command directly forbids him from doing so.
It took him every fibre of his self-restraint to stay put and see the next command: the hand going from the side to the opposite shoulder, a command to go to his master. This one was obeyed easily enough, and lastly he was told to lie down with a point downwards, which he did.
Promptly, Russell knelt to tickle and feel his slave all over. He was pleased – James was a very quick learner, and now he had a pet that would outshine every other.
From his research, he found that it would be most effective when he rewarded his pet slave with not only verbal approval, but also eaten treats, similar to how he fed him the sweet buns as a reward.
Of course, these rewards would be far from as lavish as the buns were. He raided the food cellar and requisitioned several cans of luncheon meat and diced them up into small cubes for the treats.
After the exercise with the hand gesture commands, Russell grabbed the leash around the neck of his pet and walked him around the cell to get the adrenaline edge off, followed by a shorter rest period where the pair would simply cuddle in a corner, like anyone would with a pet.
James enjoyed every second, and he made sure he wasted none pouting. Time was by far the rarest thing he – or rather, they – had.
As he lay cradled by Russell, he started to reminisce about when he had first arrived as a worthless animal not worth having a mouth, a cock, eyes, or hands, unless he could have things locked to them that communicated his massive pain and suffering. Yet here he was, unwilling to let this year in constant bondage end, unwilling to have to put on clothes again, unwilling to have access to the key that lets him masturbate.
Unwilling to part with the person who was most important to him, who was giving him everything he had ever wanted, and everything he will ever wish to have – Russell.
Since he wanted to stay in character and refrain from speaking human words, he looked at his master with fervour, burning the image of him into even the deepest recesses of his mind.
He knew his heart could never melt like this again, even if he came back for a next time.
To be continued …