Page 96 of Their Ruthless Sadist

I flipped him off, then pushed to my feet.

“Just for that, I’m gonna leave you in charge of my pet,” I told him as I passed over the cowboy’s leash. “Do not let him out of your sight and do not let anyone touch him.”

“It’ll be my pleasure to look after him.” He took the leash and tugged. “Come on, Rover. Let’s head that way. We may need a few extra minutes.”

I turned to Jane. “Would you mind handling aftercare?”

“Not at all,” she said sweetly, but there was a look in her eyes, something I’d never seen before. As though she was expecting me to be different.

In fact, I’d noticed several of my good friends watching me closely tonight, and I wasn’t sure why. Nor did I care for them to enlighten me.

“Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”

Brax (the cowboy)

When I die, I hope like hell I don’t come back as a dog.

That thought continued to run through my head because this shit was not for the faint of heart.

And it wasn’t necessarily being naked or sporting leather paws or even the uncomfortable plug in my ass. I’d gotten used to those relatively quickly. Granted, the fact that Zeke insisted on removing the plug and reinserting it later wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I understood his reasoning.

Of course, taking a shit outside … yeah, that was a memory I hoped to banish from my mind right quick.

Honestly, the most difficult part was having to eat from a bowl. Drinking water had proven to be damn near impossible because I was expected to lap it up, which meant by the end of the weekend I would definitely be dehydrated. However, it wasn’t necessarily how I was being forced to eat but what I was being forced to eat.

No, Zeke wasn’t insisting that I eat Tank’s food, although it might have been better than Case’s cooking. The man was not meant to be in the kitchen. Of course, since I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t complain, nor could I tell him how to do it right. I figured that was just another way for Zeke to punish me.

I couldn’t wait for Monday morning to get here. I was ready to stand up again. If Zeke allowed, I would spend the entire day in the kitchen, working on a masterpiece that would ensure Case would never be allowed the opportunity to wield a spatula ever again.

“Your master wants to ensure you have a front row seat,” Master Bishop informed me when we finally made it down to the dungeon.

My knees, although protected by the pads, still ached. Every move was a painful reminder that I had learned to walk for a reason. Not only did crawling wear on the bones, it required a ridiculous amount of time to get from one place to another. The sidewalk had been especially brutal. And yes, Zeke had required me to crawl in from the truck on my hands and knees. Thankfully, he’d at least draped me with a blanket. Otherwise, I would likely be in jail for public indecency.

I noticed people were getting out of my way quickly, their gazes slowly inching over me as I passed. I’d garnered a lot of attention since we walked into the club. Thankfully, the dog mask covered most of my face, which helped because I was sure I was red as a beet. This wasn’t my finest moment. When I had requested punishment, not once had this scenario crossed my mind. Then again, I’d learned not to attempt to figure Zeke out. His mind was its own brand of warped and twisted, so it didn’t necessarily surprise me, either.

On the plus side, I was getting to sleep in a bed. The negative to that was that Case was still sleeping under the bed by himself.

The one thing I’d learned in all of this was to never, ever, ever ask Zeke Lautner for punishment and do everything in my power not to earn it in the future.

Truth was, I didn’t mind being forced to crawl around like a dog or to be treated like one, for that matter. The humiliation was its own perverse brand of eroticism. I couldn’t explain it if someone forced me to, but I had long ago stopped making excuses for my desires. I figured we were all programmed the way we were for a reason. I was a much happier man having accepted that. And I had Case to thank because he had opened my eyes to a whole new world.

Speaking of Case…

Zeke appeared in front of me, Case following close behind him. My peripheral vision was blocked by the mask, but I could sense there were people gathering around us. As long as no one stepped in front of me, I would have a front row seat for Zeke’s special blend of torture. I had never been caned before, and honestly, if I had a hard limit, that would be it. From what I’d heard, it wasn’t all that fun. Then again, neither was being a dog.

“Have you ever been caned before, pretty boy?” Zeke asked, his voice low and menacing, but loud enough everyone around me stopped talking.

“Yes, Zeke,” he answered easily.

From what I could tell, Case was relaxed, perhaps even eager. Knowing him, he was already floating on a cloud.

“Then you know how this will work,” Zeke said. “Which position do you prefer? Lying flat, bending over, or standing?”

“Bending over, Zeke.”

“Very nice.” He motioned toward the spanking bench, which, oddly enough, seemed to be the piece Zeke had selected already.

Had he somehow known that would be Case’s preference?