Punctuality is important (II)

Alex felt cold. It was a sunny October afternoon, with gusts of cold wind that could freeze you. And against Alex's white, soft, naked skin, those gusts felt like a reminder of his defenseless position.

Two weeks had passed since that Wednesday he arrived late. Things had taken a turn; living together was cold, sex was nonexistent, and punishments had multiplied. Whoever until then had been his source of security had become a prison. Alex understood his mission: to prove again that his master could trust him.

—Come inside.

Alex had been waiting for that order for a long while. He didn't know how to measure it, but the sky had gone from blue to orange, and it must have been after 16:00, which was the time he got home from work. It was a beautiful sunset. As he entered the warmth of the living room, his owner messaged him:

—Today I'm going to put you to the test. I never thought I'd have to resort to this, but I don't see another solution. If I have ever mattered to you, you will pass it.

Alex didn't know what his owner could be referring to. He stayed waiting, without saying a word, on his knees.

—I've made you dinner. You have it in your bowl. Don't eat too much; I don't want you to embarrass me tonight.

His feeding bowl was Woof's old one: metal, round, medium-sized. Dinner: Iberian pork cheeks in sauce. The pork cheeks were from that day; now that Alex didn't have access to the kitchen, the master had gone back to cooking. And they must have been good in the morning; now, cold, with the fat congealed and a stream of cum on top, the taste was different. The cum was warm. And Alex understood it as the reward it was. He licked it first, without touching the food, until he finished it. When he looked at his owner, the latter noticed, and although he said nothing, he came closer to stroke his head.

It was already night. The afternoon was cold after dinner. He took him to the bathroom, tied the leash to the heater, and spent the whole afternoon waiting for any kind of signal. Alex was happy; he had eaten and wasn't cold. Alex's list of expectations had diminished a lot; he was already happy with a full stomach and a warm roof. When the door opened, he heard:

—On all fours.

And he obeyed.

—Show yourself. Get ready for an enema, thoroughly. Lie on your side.

His owner had access to a pharmacy. The enema was not with water; a solution of sodium phosphate and water was what was introduced inside Alex. All the way in. His owner made sure he was completely clean inside, and then outside. He removed the leash and took him to the shower. He soaped him with his hands, from top to bottom. He remembered that he had gone several days without showering. The ability to clean himself was a right he no longer had. But that thought lasted little. His owner gave him a small slap on the face and whispered:

—Pay attention. You don't have to think; you hav...