Page 6

6

Griffin

His humiliation had been beautiful to behold.

The way he squirmed and writhed and whimpered… He would be doing all of those things from pleasure before he knew it. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him that, but I knew.

He would come to prefer the pleasure over the discomfort and pain… Not that daily enemas weren’t going to be a part of our routine. He’d have to get used to the discomfort because I was enjoying seeing his misery entirely too much.

My cock was hard as a rock in my pants, and I had to adjust them a little to make myself more comfortable.

I’d thought he would give more fight about the enemas, but he’d given in without much vitriol. He deserved a little bit of a reward, which meant I wouldn’t just hose him down. I’d have to clean out the kennel, though.

I needed to give him a break, or he was going to snap. He needed kindness from my hand, which meant using the grooming tub I’d had put in just for him. I could get the water nice and warm to clean him with, dry him off, and put him back in the kennel with his blanket. I grabbed a towel .

“Such a good boy,” I praised, and this time instead of a hateful look, he just cast an exhausted one in my direction. We were definitely on the verge of taking it too far before he was ready.

This would be the first time I opened the kennel since he’d gotten there, but if there was any fight left in him, it wouldn’t last long. It wasn’t like he could get out of the basement without my help anyway.

I got the key to the cell out and inserted it into the lock, twisting it until it clicked. I grabbed the tubing and hung it over the cell bars so I could more easily clean it later. He was still there, in the middle of the room with his ass over the drain, shivering violently.

I wrapped the towel around his midsection, provoking a startled look from him, then hoisted him into my arms. He was small for a man, feminine even in the right light, and he was easy enough to carry over to the tub. He gave a half-hearted struggle but stopped trying by the time we got there.

He wanted to be clean, and that only gave me more ideas for ways to get him to bend for me. If he wanted it badly enough, he’d obey me just for the sake of a bath.

I lowered him down into the tub, pulling the towel from around him and tossing it at the foot of the stairs. It was dirty, just like he was.

I turned the water on, making sure to get it up to temperature, and I wanted to push him just a little more. I wanted to see how far I could go with him. Did I want to really risk it?

“This is a grooming tub,” I said, letting the water run over my hand. “It’s for dogs. Are you a puppy?”

The words were a trap, of course, and he’d know that.

He shook his head anyway .

“No? Well, only puppies get bathed in tubs like this. If you’re just a filthy human, I can take the hose to you instead of washing you down with soap.”

I should’ve played this particular hand when we’d still been in the cell, but it was damn near impossible to think of these things ahead of time.

“What do you want?” he asked, but the attempt at snark was subdued.

I smiled. He was too tired to fight much, which meant…

“A little bark,” I told him. “Just a small one. Give me a bark…” I held up the showerhead at the end of the hose. “And I’ll clean you from head to toe.”

The idea had to sound good to him, because he hesitated. He was silent for a moment, then he gave a small, tentative bark.

I had to fight not to show my surprise. He’d actually obeyed without forcing me to get stern? He really must’ve been tired.

“Good boy, Toby,” I praised him.

“Not Toby,” he said.

I ignored him. He’d learn soon enough that he was whoever I said he was and not anyone else.

I let the warm water start to flow over him, and he let out a moan. Sagging in the tub, he didn’t fight as he settled there on all fours while I rinsed him thoroughly. “Tilt your head back,” I told him.

He looked warily at me.

“I’m not going to try to drown you or anything,” I said, deadpan. “I just want to wash your hair while I’m at it. Don’t you want to be nice and clean?”

Those seemed to be the magic words.

He wanted, more than anything, to be clean. I didn’t want him to be filthy either, but I wasn’t above using it as a way to get him to submit.

I wasn’t above doing much of anything, apparently, which was a somewhat uncomfortable realization to come to.

He leaned his head back, and I wet his hair, too. I grabbed a bottle of shampoo and soaped it up, and both of us were quiet as I washed and rinsed his hair. He didn’t even try to fight, which had me feeling a little suspicious by the time I turned to his body.

This would be the time he’d argue.

It was time to get to the main event. “I’m going to bathe you now,” I told him. I wet a washcloth and put soap on it, rubbing it until suds formed, then I started high at his neckline. He froze, all but quivering beneath me.

He let me wash his face, his back and the back of his legs. It wasn’t until I ordered him to turn over that he finally balked and gave me another of those death glares.

“I can clean myself,” he informed me, as haughtily as if he were on this side of the tub and I was inside.

“Maybe right now.” I shrugged. “Once you have your mitts, you won’t be able to at all.”

I could see the wary curiosity in his expression, but he didn’t ask. I knew he didn’t dare… because he wasn’t ready to know the answer yet. He wasn’t ready to know about any of this, really, but he was getting a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

“But you’re not going to.” My voice grew firmer. “Now turn over so I can get your front.”

I didn’t give him an “or else.” His imagination would surely supply him with a whole lot of scenarios, and it meant I could save the ones I’d devised for times when I really needed him to cooperate .

He hesitated again, then turned so he could sit on his ass in the tub. He drew a leg up so he could partially shield his shriveled cock from my view. It wouldn’t help for long, but I let him have his false sense of modesty as I washed his neck down to his chest, then his legs.

“You know what’s next,” I said.

“You’re not going to play with my cock,” he said stubbornly.

“I’d have to find it first,” I told him, purposely baiting him.

“It’s soft, okay?” he automatically defended himself, only to look horrified that he’d spoken up. “Never fucking mind. You don’t need to go near that.”

“Don’t need to go near it?” For the first time, I let the sweet, honeyed poison slip into my voice as I whispered in his ear, “You’re forgetting that I own it… just like I own you.”

“You don’t own me!” he snapped. “No one owns me, especially not you.” His cheeks flushed from more than the warm water.

“You’re still filthy down there,” I said, just as softly. “You were spilling all over the place. Just think of how much of it got around your cock and how much of it’s around your ass…”

He blanched. It took him a moment, but he slowly lowered his leg, giving me access to his cock.

“Good boy,” I said, smiling at him and ignoring his answering glare.

This time, I was clinical but thorough, making sure to get between the folds, around the ridges… enough to make his cock start waking up from the attention — much to his obvious horror as he tried to close his legs again.

I wanted to chase that start of an erection and see where I could take it, but I didn’t want to just rape him .

By the time I sank my cock into him, I wanted him to be begging me for it.

I’d saved his ass for last, knowing it would be sore and tender. “Now back up on all fours,” I said.

I think he was less reluctant to do that, knowing I wasn’t messing with his penis, but now I wanted to inspect his ass. He let out a low hiss as I pulled his ass cheeks apart to see his hole — one day, and one day soon, it would look red and wrecked because I’d fucked him senseless.

But not today.

With the same care I’d given his cock, I bathed his ass and around his hole. I tossed the rag to the side, going back to thoroughly rinsing him off, and I could see he’d relaxed despite himself. Who wouldn’t, when they’d been pampered and bathed, even in the wake of all that had happened? In comparison, this was orgasmic.

I didn’t fetch another towel, though. Instead, I got out the pet grade dryer. He started to rise, but I put one hand on his back to keep him down. It was easier than I’d thought it would be, like he’d given up all fight.

It wouldn’t last long, but it would be long enough to get him settled again before he started to struggle again.

I dried him off, focusing on his hair first then moving down his body. His shivering had stopped, but the look he gave me was inscrutable. I tilted my head. He didn’t give an explanation, and I didn’t press for one. I’d let him have his thoughts for now, at least.

“Time to go back,” I told him.

That was when he tensed up, when the adrenaline kicked in, but I grabbed him and carried him back before it could do anything but fuel him. By the time he started kicking at me and trying to grab hold of my hair, I was already depositing him back down in the dog bed .

“Stay,” I said firmly.

He scrambled up, racing for the still-open cell door.

I slammed it closed in his face from the inside, staring him down, and he backed up. Our size difference was more than a little obvious then. It finally seemed to register that he wasn’t going to be able to do a damn thing… unless I allowed it.

The door bounced back a little, slightly open behind me, but he didn’t do anything stupid.

“Now go lie down,” I said. “I have to clean up your mess.”

He flushed at that, the shame weighing his shoulders down. He turned for the dog bed even as he slumped, and he dropped down into it. Cuddling up in the blanket, I had the thought that he looked adorable there — even despite his misery.

Maybe it was because of his misery.

I left the cell long enough to get the hose, and I turned it on so I could spray the drain and the area around it clean. I’d clean it better when he was a little more predictable. The last thing I needed was to be caught on my hands and knees if he decided to pounce.

It would be stupid, but his mouth hadn’t shown him to be particularly intelligent.

He watched me, but he didn’t do anything dumb.

I nodded, going to him to pet his head.

He jerked his head back, glaring at me.

“Good boy,” I told him again.

He glared harder.

I smiled again. Eventually he’d look at me differently. He’d probably always be afraid of me, especially by the time I was done with him. But I could get something out of him that was more than loathing .

Leaving the kennel, I closed the door behind me, locking it back into place. “Get some rest,” I said, grabbing the food bowl. “You’re going to need it.”