Chapter Two

My throat went dry. Did he know how those words got my motor running? I felt a low growl in the base of my chest as a particularly hidden side of me reared its head. I wanted to see this man do everything I said just to please me.

Right. Broken dog to fix.

"Good boy," Was all I said, as patronizingly as I could.

I cast my eyes around his living room to avoid looking at the half-naked man driving me to distraction. It was chic, everything was probably picked out by an interior designer. Every item was either black or white or grey, except for several modern pieces of abstract art on the walls. His carpets were pristine, running from wall to wall. "Better prep a dog corner. I'd hate for your place to get ruined."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" He demanded, arms crossed now.

"Andy Burrie, shitty to meet you," I replied, not moving to even shake his hand.

He looked me over silently before saying, "I don't like dogs." He set his jaw stubbornly, cerulean eyes flaring with rebellion.

"I bet they don't think much of you either, least of all Spotty," I snapped back. "Why would you even want to run over a dog?"

He probably noticed the death glare I was fixing on him, because he had the good sense to at least sound contrite. He looked me in the eyes as he shrugged, "World isn't fair."

"No shit. I bet you're just the target of the universe living it up in your mansion," I scorned. "My advice? Grow up, the world is shit already without baddies like you running over dogs."

"Baddies?" He said, amused again. When he smiled like that the corners of his mouth curled up adorably. My thoughts ran wild with all the things I wished I could do to him with that mouth. My hands twisting in his jet black hair..."Alright, you got me, I shouldn't have run over the dog, I'll cover his bills, but why not just put him down?"

"You mean kill him because you were a dick?" I shook my head and frowned at him, "Nah. You hurt him, so you'll fix him. And you'll do a damn good job or I'll make sure animal rights activists get all over your shit." I stood, ready to leave, I couldn't stick around or I'd do something stupid, like throw him over the coffee table and play out some new fantasies.

"Leaving? I don't know the first thing about caring for a dog."

"Guess you got three days to learn then, Spotty checks out on Thursday. ‘Sides, I can't stick around to babysit you, I got shit to do. I already missed classes today dealing with your mess." I checked my watch, a functional thing with a simple black leather band, it read 8:25Pm. Shit I had a paper to turn in tomorrow.

"Hey," He called when I walked by him to see myself out. I stopped but didn't turn to look at him. "You got balls, you know that right?"

"Fuck I knew that since before I could play with them." I opened his door then cast a glance back at him, "Three days Dylan." Feeling triumph in my chest, I slammed his door with just a hint a drama and almost howled at the moon on my way out of his compound.

When I reached my apartment I scowled at the scene. The strays had been in my garbage. Should've seen that one coming. I got out gloves from my cabinet and went back out to clean up.

Mrs. Headley spotted me and hurried over just as I bent over to gather up some egg shells. She wolf-whistled, "Nice view."

"Perv," I replied good-naturedly, picking up the trash. Then I added, "He's gonna be okay." I continued without her having to ask. "He's gonna lose his hind legs though. The vet’s replacing them with some doggy wheels. Mr. Ryman was generous enough to cover the expenses." I dropped her a sly wink.

"Did he Grinch out and grow a heart spontaneously?" She rose her eyebrows so high it reached into her red curls.

"The world may never know," I said smugly.

"Huh. That so?" She grinned then eyed me suspiciously. "You're a good kid, y'know?"

I rolled my eyes, "Tell my parents for me when they visit. They'll be soooo proud."

And she laughed at that, shaking her head as she retreated to her house again. “Sure thing.”

Class the next day found me distracted and out of sorts. My psychology lecturer had definitely picked up on my mood. I was usually a lot more enthusiastic about this class. But today I'd kept zoning out from the start.

Thinking about Spotty. And whether or not I admitted it to myself until now, I was thinking about Dylan. Ways to breach his defenses, to mess with his head, figure him out to tear him down before I built him back up again.

Dr. Zeppelin just let me be during the class. He really was pretty cool, it had to be the years of experience as a therapist. He never lost his temper and always managed to steer students back to the topic, or get right to the point of conflicts. Today he was talking about human responses to authority. I'd remembered reading on Milgram's experiments, which really was some sick shit. Messing with people's minds into obeying orders by discouraging rebellion with shocks? Ouch.

Now the idea of someone willingly submitting to authority...? I think I just started purring. It reminded me of another time. Another life, years ago and quickly becoming a faded memory.

Inevitably it seemed, I started to think about Dylan. Dylan responding to me, kneeling, submitting. Okay, it's some fetish I got here, but he seemed okay with taking orders from me too. Unless... yeah. I had to be making it up in my head. I didn't even know if he was gay! Generally though, getting boners in your swim trunks when talking to a dude? Pretty much like waving a rainbow flag.

"We'll pick up next class on how these experiments, gruesome as they were, helped some psychologists to learn more about humans, read chapters 8 and 14," He was saying as the class packed up to leave.

"Dr. Zeppelin," I called out to him before I could think twice about it. "Dr. Zeppelin, I have a question."

"Make it quick, you got another class right?" He studied me over his glasses as I neared him while students funneled out the door.

"Yeah, sure. I was wondering about how people can sometimes get useful results from unethical practices... like with Milgram and Stanford for instance. Do you think some people need others to make them do the right things?"

"I'm not sure I understand you fully," Now he was really looking at me. I could see him trying to figure out what had got me ticking.

"Okay, maybe not Milgram's experiments since those were pretty sick, but authority today, it's more than just a title thing, like with police, but it can be a role that any normal person assumes, right?"

"I suppose. There are several instances in which power dynamics come into play again. Authority and obedience. It’s not unheard of, more modern relationships even take fetish to new levels, in dominance and submissive relationships.” I tried not to react, but his eyes narrowed as he smiled. "Does that help answer your question?"

It did. I knew relationships like that, I’d even been in one. It just wasn’t something I’d seen as necessary, just more harmless, horny fun. I fought the blush that threatened to whip my cheeks and thanked him, heading out. He was way too perceptive, as usual.

I called Romeo the minute I got out of classes and got a list of things Spotty might need for extra care, jotting it all down on a sticky note, then heading over to Dylan's.

The security let me in without questions or protest. Maybe Dylan had told him to just let me in if I dropped by. Hmmm... The idea of Dylan doing that made me all hot. Right. Remember, the guy runs over puppies to let off steam. Not really great character.

If my dick could talk it'd tell me to fuck character, and Dylan too.

‘Land Pollution. Starving kids.' I tried to ease the discomfort in my pants as I hit the buzzer.

Just when I was beginning to think he wouldn't answer the door, it swung inwards and there was Dylan, wild-eyed again, but not on the offensive this time. He seemed, pleased. Sad to say he was clothed. In a well-fitted black suit and a deep purple tie. He looked hot as hell with his hair styled into spiked locks.

"Shopping," I announced, holding up the list.

He reached out and collected it, and I turned as if to go away. I was gratified when he spoke to stop me, sounding annoyed as he said, "You're leaving just like that?"

"What? You look all dressed to go out."

He puffed out a breath, and his cheeks seemed just a little red. Cute. "I just got home. But yeah, I did plan to get out of here. Stick around, we can pick up these stuff together."

I looked at him, then folded my arms.

"What?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"I didn't hear you requesting anything in that sentence," I tapped my foot, just a quick tap-tap. It was so much fun messing with his head.

His eyes followed the movement of my tapping. Then they darkened ever so slightly as understanding dawn on him. He gulped. Man it was fun seeing him swallow his pride. It made me think of what else he might swallow for me. "Please." Then he continued, "It would be a great help if you went with me to get things for the dog."

"For Spotty," I corrected.

He flushed, before amending, "For Spotty."

"I guess I have time, don't want you to mess it up after all. Spotty deserves the best from here on out."

"Thank you," his response seemed barbed but I let it slide without comment. "Come inside, I just have to change... but I promise I'll be quick." He seemed bolder, teasing almost.

'Starving kids. Broken dog,' I thought to keep the blood from rushing down south. My hands itched to touch him, to spank him, and from his ‘do-me’ eyes, he knew it.