CHAPTER SEVEN: Good Doggy, No Bone

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"Y'know...I've woken up in a lot of weird scenarios over the years. Locked in a toy chest, sandwiched between a couple I intended on robbing, in the crow's nest on a Navy ship holding a bag of what I'm gonna call oregano...but this?" I held up the chain-link leash attached to a steel collar around my neck, shaking it for effect. "This is the weirdest. Care to explain?"

Sure, sometimes I could be a heavy sleeper, especially when I was emotionally and physically exhausted, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how anybody could have put this on me without my knowledge. It was heavy, and every time I moved it made a loud clanging noise.

Kid smirked down at me, something he did a lot of, and rattled his end of the chain, curling it tight around his wrist before threading it through his hand again.
"We did say you'd slowly move up the ranks with each job well done, right? So, congratulations. You've been promoted from prisoner to pet.~"

Ex-fucking-scuse me?

It had been almost two entire weeks since I had successfully retrieved the keys to the Navy artillery storage, and the only faces I had seen had been Killer's when he snuck me scraps, and Heat's, when he came to change my bandages.

My wrist was still incredibly sore, but thanks to whatever medical supplies they had been lucky enough to steal, it was healing well. No longer swollen, but still kind of bruised, I could use it with only mild discomfort, if I took it easy.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer to keep my current position. No offence to your creepy kinks, Kiddo, but pet play doesn't tickle my pickle." Folding my arms, I looked away from him, knowing that whatever aggressive expression I had conjured from him would shrink my confidence.

With a harsh yank, Kid had me sprawling on the ground much closer to him, my nose almost kissing his leather boot.
"Let me phrase this in a way that you'll understand. You're my pet, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it unless I say so. Do I make myself clear, bitch?"

Gritting my teeth, I slowly sat myself up again, spitting out a bit of dirt and muck from my intimacy with the floor.
"Woof woof bark bark. That translates to fuck you, you used tampon-headed sadist."

One moment I was on the ground, but the next, after a loud, metallic rattle, I was face to face with the fearsome pirate, wheezing and tugging at the metal around my neck.
"Dogs. Don't. Talk." The register in which he spoke made my skin crawl, so I zipped my lips. Antagonising him was fun and all, but I wasn't a match for him. Not in my current condition, and likely not at full health, either.

He's really serious about this. Oh God, please don't let him try to make me lick peanut butter off his ba-

"Good girl." The sly grin that Kid gave me sent another, deeper shiver up my spine as he set me back down, my head getting a little dizzy once I was able to properly breathe again. "Come on. I'm not spending my day in this shitty room."

Kid tugged me into a walk, but stopped the moment I made a move to stand, whipping the chain so it almost hit me in the face. He didn't have to say anything for me to realise he intended to make me walk on all fours. It was going to hurt, both my pride and my healing injury, but I wasn't in any position to refuse.

It's fine. This is fine. If he pisses me off, I can just piss in his boot. Dogs do that kind of stuff, right? I'd just be in character...

As I hurried, slightly limping after Kid's steady pace up the stairs, I realised I was no longer wearing my stolen Marine uniform. Instead, I was wearing black sweatpants and a white shirt with black spots. Somebody had changed me and I dreaded to think who. Into a discount dalmatian, no less.

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