Puppy Girl: The Stray

She crawled out to the living room, seeing her temporary master once again working at his computer. She could smell the cooked food, and found her bowl, cold scrambled eggs and some meat product. No gentle feeding of a 5-star dinner this time. She smiled, recalling lying in his arms, being fed the steak and incredible chocolate cake.

She ate her breakfast, surprised at how hungry she still was. She drank from her bowl, wiping her face on her arm. She crawled around the room, examining her surroundings for a long while. The man ignored her. Apparently she didn't have to stay huddled in the corner all day.

Since she didn't have to, it wasn't that bad, crawling to the corner, rolling up in the loose blankets, lying on her side, watching him type. She relaxed, stretching, feeling her injuries. She wondered what was for lunch.

She daydreamed, remembering his gentle touch. Such a change from his behavior the first day. Feeding her, removing the splinters, washing her wounds, lotioning her body. His big strong hands holding her, moving her, soothing her.

Rafe had been nice to her. Gave her compliments. He even claimed to love her. Then he tried to rape her, threw her into the ocean and abandoned her to die. This man had said he hated her, condemned her. But those were the words. Instead he took care of her, fed her, bathed her, tended her wounds, her burns. He was gentle with her, even when touching her in those places.

Amy caressed her breasts, feeling her sore hard nipples, pulling on them gently. One hand strayed between her legs, rubbing herself softly, remembering how he'd felt. Gentle, undemanding, caring.

She looked up at the clock. It was after noon, and he'd been working non-stop. She was trembling, her pain returning. She needed more of the painkillers. Hot food would be nice. Chocolate cake would be perfect.

So focused. How can he do that? She was hesitant to interrupt him, but the fever and trembling were getting worse.

She crawled over to him, brushing her head against his thigh, whining softly.

He reached down and stroked her hair, rereading his work. She whined more needily, rubbing against him. She was shocked to see him smile at her, scratching the back of her head. "Potty?" he asked. "Go out?"

She shook her head, resting her forehead against his hand, trembling. He reached out and pressed his palm against her forehead. He pushed back from the desk. "Let's take care of you, puppy-girl."

He picked her up, his powerful arms holding her gently. She felt secure, safe. Strange. Naked in the arms of a man who seemed to hate all women, she was comforted. He took her back to the bed, sitting her down on his side of the bed.

She chuckled. His side. Like she had her own side. She nuzzled his chest, her tongue reaching out, delivering a long slow lick of appreciation, as he released her.

"Stay," he said softly.

He left her, and she waited patiently for his return. He came back with juice and pills. She opened her mouth eagerly, accepting the medicine, and drank half the juice. She set the glass down, and leaned back.

He brushed her hair back, stroking her. "Good girl. Wait here."

He left her again, alone, in his bed. She curled up, anxious for his return. When he didn't come back after several minutes, she crawled off the bed, looking for him.

She crawled up beside him, rubbing against his leg.

He glanced down, a look of irritation painting his face. He picked her up again, giving her a shake. "Bad Girl. Bad Red!" He put her back on the bed. "Stay. Stay!" He extended his arm straight outward, palm forward, fingers pointing upward. "Stay!"

She whined, lowering her head. He was mad. She should have waited.

He returned a couple of minutes later, grilled ham and cheese sandwich and tomato soup on a tray. He put it on the table next to her, and climbed on the bed. She cowered, hoping he wasn't still mad.

The man brought her to his chest, holding her. "Good girl, waiting for Master." He grabbed half a sandwich and held it to her cracked lips. She nibbled on it, eating it slowly. After half the sandwich, he lifted the soup and spooned it to her lips. She sipped. It was delicious, warm, smooth, lightly spiced. She hummed happily, letting him feed her. When he'd finished with the soup he fed her the rest of the sandwich, wiping her lips gently. She'd spilled a little on her chest, and he was careful and tender as he cleaned her up.

Almost perfect. All it needed was a little of that cake.

He got up, easing her back onto the bed. "Feet first, then we'll check out the rest of you.

She almost giggled. No problem checking her out. Naked as the day she was born.

* * *

Hunter removed the bandages from her feet. They still looked bad but were healing nicely. He applied some more Neosporin, covering the soles again. He examined her knees, which were red, but mostly uninjured. The hard floor must have been difficult for her. He remembered his late night effort. In a bit. Let's get the poor thing taken care of first.

He put his hand against her head. It felt like she still had a bit of a fever but not as bad. He'd take her temperature later. "Stay," he commanded, giving that palm outward gesture. Then he left her to get a few supplies, and some new aloe cuttings.

He returned and she was obediently lying there, waiting. He knew she must still be uncomfortable, still in pain, but she waited quietly. He sat beside her, petting her head, then rubbing her belly. "Red's such a good girl. Waiting for Master. Good, good girl."

She smiled, wiggling her bottom.

The tray had a large Pyrex bowl of water on it, and he brought out a chamois and wet it. She was trembling, looking at it. He realized she was looking at the ice cubes in the bowl.

"Red," he said softly. She whimpered, staring at the bowl.

"Red, Watch me," he said, raising his hand to his forehead. She still cowered, trembling. It was only cold water; you'd think she'd be begging for it.

He sighed. She still needed so much training. All puppies did. He didn't mind. There was something wonderful about your puppy learning a command, and obeying it. He was a firm believer in reward training for his dogs. He moved the tray out of her sight, and covered her up. "Stay, puppy-girl. Stay."

It wasn't hard to guess what kind of treat would work for her. The way she'd acted up for the cake the night before. Cake was a treat for him as well. He tried to make it last, keeping it covered, on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, where it was harder for him to get to and see. He pulled the cake tray out and opened it. One decent sized piece left. Hunter cut it in half and put away the rest. He divided it into little bites. Only eight, but that should do.

He smiled to himself. She'd watch him now.

* * *

Amy was nervous, she hadn't meant to defy him but the idea of ice water on her skin was terrifying. She'd had the chills so bad, and now she was barely starting to warm up. Besides, who knows what he was going to do with that ice. She'd heard of some pretty weird stuff.

He walked back into the room, and put a small plate on the table next to her. She couldn't see what was on it, some books in the way, but she was pretty sure she could smell it. She sniffed harder, leaning toward the plate, her mouth starting to water.

Chocolate. No doubt about it. She smiled up at him. "Rowf!" she yipped.

He laughed, pulling out a small bit of that chocolate cake. "Puppy treat. For a good puppy-girl." Her eyes were glued to the treat. As required. He lifted the treat to his forehead. "Watch!" he said.

Amy sat up, eager for her treat. Little piece of chocolate heaven. He held the morsel between his fingers and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth extending her tongue, and he placed the snack on it. She closed her mouth, then her eyes, letting the decadent morsel melt in her mouth.

"Watch!" she heard. She looked up and followed his hand back up to his forehead. "Watch!" he repeated firmly, staring at her. She looked into his eyes, and he smiled, feeding her the treat she'd earned. She watched his hand go back to the plate, chocolaty morsel in his fingers.

"Watch!"

She looked up to his eyes, his other hand touching his forehead. He lowered the hand and then raised it sharply, his extended fingers just over his eyebrow. "Watch!"

It would be hard not to, those piercing dark eyes, so intense. He blinked, looking down at her body for a second, and the spell was broken; she looked for the hand with the chocolate. Her chocolate.

"Watch, Red!" he said, and she looked back into those dark, brooding eyes.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She could feel her body shiver, involuntarily. "Good puppy-girl," he cooed, pressing the chocolate to her lips, letting her lick them clean. He stroked her hair, and eased her onto her back, praising her.

"Such a smart puppy-girl. Good puppy-girl. Good Red," he whispered to her, his hand caressing her side, rubbing her belly softly. He gave her another chocolate. She smiled, pressing against his side. He looked so happy. She hadn't even been sure he knew how to be happy. The hand rubbing her belly, settled over her little patch of hair, scratching it. She pressed against his hand, and he laughed, rubbing her playfully. "Puppy-girl, has so little fur. We'll have to keep this tiny bit."

He brought his hand to his head. "Watch!" She looked up. "Watch ..." he repeated softly, locking her eyes. He held out the wet chamois. "This will be cool, Red. I'll be careful. I just want to bring your temperature down, Ok?"

She nodded, whimpering. She knew the truth. Cool, meant ice-cold.

He pushed her back down, and pressed the cloth to her arm. She braced herself and sighed, when she felt the cool relief. She whimpered.

He leaned over her face, looking down at her. "Is it Ok? I don't want you to hurt any more, poor puppy-girl."

She nodded, sad to feel the cloth removed. He wet it again, wrung it out, and pressed it on her upper chest. Cool, soothing, why had she not trusted him? Ever since he had let her in, he'd taken care of her.

Amy sighed, relaxed, and let him take care of her again.

* * *

Hunter moved the chamois, wetting it and placing it across her chest. She was calmer now, settled down. Half asleep. He started with a second chamois, alternating the two, cooling her off, soothing her. He inspected her body, checking the healing, the small injuries. He knew that her front had taken more damage from the crawling she'd apparently done, while her back was burned much worse.

Cute little puppy-girl, so quiet now. Rather than wake her and tell her to roll-over, he lifted her and did it himself. She woke a little, looking up at him and smiling with those big blue trusting puppy eyes. He set her on her belly, starting the cooling again.

He was concerned, he could feel the heat radiating off her back, and the blistering had not reduced much. He didn't like draining any of the blisters if he didn't have to, but there were a few bad ones on her shoulders that looked like they needed care.

She was sleeping soundly once he'd covered her small body twice with the chamois. She felt cooler, maybe a combination of the chamois, the drugs, and the rest. He retrieved his first aid kit, used the alcohol to sterilize his needle and some cotton balls, and set to work on the worst of her blisters. He lanced it carefully at the base, and drained it thoroughly, leaving the skin intact to speed the healing. She whimpered a little, waking up part way through the first one, but he was able to calm her down.

She gave a little groan when he was working on the second one. It was ugly, a good inch or more across, and bubbling badly. She twitched under his hands and he tried to sooth her. "Good girl," he murmured softly, "my good little puppy-girl, so brave."

She sighed, and relaxed. When he was done with her shoulders, he sat up and looked down at her. She was awake, watching him. He looked over at the three remaining treats on the plate. He took one in his hand and her eyes tracked it, smiling.

He dropped to his knees beside the bed, bringing his face close to hers. "I'm so proud of my puppy-girl. You are so brave, so good." He kissed her cheek and she blushed. He lifted the treat to her lips and she opened her mouth. He fed her the tiny chocolaty square. "We're almost done. Are you still Ok, Red? Speak."

She nodded. "Thank you," she breathed softly, lowering her eyes. "Master."

He brushed her hair back, petting her. She rubbed her head against his hand, when he stopped for a moment, and he sat up, and continued petting her until she was calm again. He turned to her bottom, addressing the worst blister there, the size of a nickel. He drained a second smaller one after that, and inspected her again. None of the others seemed bad enough for concern. He'd let them heal naturally.

He got out his soothing lotion, and worked her body gently, head to toe, pleased that she was so relaxed. Need to get more lotion. I'll use up a year's worth this week. Hunter looked down at her soft body, which had taken so much damage. A good puppy's worth it.

He took the thermometer from his bag, shook it down, and put some Vaseline on the tip. He moved down to her waist and spread her cheeks. She whimpered softly when he eased the glass device into her bottom. "Easy, girl. I'm just taking your temperature," he told her, stroking the back of her thigh.

He caressed her softly, waiting the requisite three minutes. A little over 100, not too bad. He saw a little Vaseline on the edge of her puckered opening, and he rubbed it in gently. "That wasn't too bad, was it? Your fever is almost completely gone."

She rolled over sleepily, spreading her arms and legs.

Hunter felt his anger returning. Playing innocent, then acting like a slut, he thought. He saw her looking to the side. Probably thinks she can earn another treat, by teasing me. Bitch. Like all the rest.

She reached out and nudged the lotion, whimpering softly.

His anger popped like a balloon. She still hurts.

He felt guilty, something he hadn't allowed himself to do in years. He cleaned and put away the thermometer, and started the lotion. Arms and shoulders, neck, chest. The top of her breasts and upper chest was the worst on her front. That and her face. He coated her chest, rubbing her tits. Her breasts, he corrected himself. They were full and soft, still red on the tips from the abuse they'd taken. His big hands enveloped them, ensuring they were thoroughly covered.

Not her fault they're like this, he thought, tenderly coating her nipples when they hardened. Sad, lost, little puppy-girl.

* * *

Amy was slipping in and out of consciousness. The pain was almost gone, she felt comfortable, not aching, for the first time in days. His hands on her chest felt soothing, not dirty. Not demanding. She took a deep breath, her chest swelling, and he squeezed her breasts, his slippery hands sliding around her skin.

His hands moved down her body, strong and controlling, coating her sides, her belly. He continued south, covering her hips, and the insides of her thighs. He rubbed her bush, running his fingers through it, his fingertips scratching at her. It was nice, playful, caring. She wiggled her hips and heard his chuckle. "Puppy likes her belly rubbed," he teased.

It was a little low for her belly, but she couldn't deny she liked it. His fingertips moved side to side, up and down, wherever there was hair. She felt his nails scratching her gently, and she tried to still herself when he moved lower, rubbing her little love button. He didn't seem to do it on purpose, and he didn't concentrate on it, but that brief touch woke her.

He pushed her far knee outward, opening her up, and she whimpered again, when his slippery lotioned hand moved between her legs.

"It's Ok, Red," he said softly. "I know you're not bad."

She relaxed, her leg settling down onto the bed, as his hand rubbed her. She closed her eyes, sighing, while he thoroughly lotioned her there, his fingers gentle, opening her just a bit, the slippery smoothness coating her.

She whined softly when his fingers left and continued down her legs. She heard his soft chuckle.

When he'd finished with her toes, he started over again. She squirmed under his hands more than she wanted to, enjoying his touch, not wanting him to stop. He spent less time between her legs, only brushing across it a couple of times.

Afterward he covered her with the sheet. "Sleep, puppy-girl. Sleep, and heal. I want you all better." His hand was running through her hair, and she opened her eyes a little. She turned her head, her mouth pressed against his wrist, and she licked him softly, kissing his warm skin.

"Who's my favorite girl?" he said, running this thumb across her lips.

"Woof," she barked softly.

He laughed, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "That's right. Red is. Red's my favorite puppy in the whole world."

She closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling him straighten the covers, and planting another kiss on her forehead.

She woke, the room streaked with shafts of light from the setting sun. She crawled out of bed and went to look for him. Would he be writing? Cooking? Maybe something new?

He was sitting on the couch reading. She crawled over and rested her chin on his knee, looking up at him. He reached down and petted her. "How's my puppy-girl?" he asked, his wicked fingers going to the nape of her hair, scratching her there, teasing. She turned and licked his leg. She could taste him, a salty, manly taste. She licked longer, slower.

"Watch," he said.

She looked up, into his eyes.

"Does puppy-girl need to be let out?" he asked.

She realized her bladder was full. She nodded.

He patted the cushion, next to him, then snapped his fingers. "Up!"

She climbed up on the couch, and sat, waiting for his next command.

"Stay," he said softly, extending his hand. He walked away and returned only a few moments later. He piled some things at her feet, then lifted her and set her on her back. He was gentle. She looked up and waited patiently.

He took her leg and bent it, her foot flat on the cushion. He put a pad on her knee, and pulled a Velcro snap across the back. It was soft against her skin, conforming to it. He pushed her leg down and she was vaguely aware her legs were spread wide open for him. Maybe he'd touch her. Pet her.

He covered her other knee with a similar pad. "There," he said. "No more bruised knees for my puppy-girl. Try them out."

She rolled off the couch onto her hands and knees. So much better. She crawled over to the hard surface of the kitchen tile, crawling around the island. No pain at all. She sat up smiling. "Rowf!"

"You're welcome," he chuckled. "Come!" he snapped, and she crawled over quickly, stopping at his feet. She looked up at him from between his legs. He patted his thighs. "Up, girl."

She hesitated a moment. He was only wearing shorts. Loose knit shorts. Was it now? Was he going to use her? She trembled.

"Up, Red," he repeated, snapping his fingers, and patting his thighs.

She hung her head and climbed onto his lap. He directed her knees outward, making her straddle him. Was it going to be like this? She felt his hand on her chin, tilting her head up. "Good girl," he whispered. His hands moved around her neck, and she felt a weight, contact, something choking her, briefly. He finished, running his fingers around her neck. "Too tight?" he asked.

She twisted and turned her head. She was collared. Not too tightly, but not loose at all. She tested it again, then looked into his eyes shaking her head.

"Good. I don't want my puppy getting lost." He pulled her against his chest, caressing her, while she calmed again. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and licked his neck softly.