“Wash up while I’m out on my date, boi.”

It stopped licking from it’s water bowl and looked up at the sink from it’s place on the floor.


“You may stand up of course!” She preempted it’s question with the right answer.

“Yes, Mistress.”

It went to stand.

“Not until I’m out of the room, boi.”

It returned to all fours.

“Of course, Mistress.”

She opened the door.

“Enjoy your night out with Him, Mistress.”

She took Her bag and jacket and left, closing the door. Her footsteps disappeared into the night.

It stood. It hadn’t for two days. It swayed, grabbing the kitchen counter to keep it’s balance, it turned on the taps. It looked out the window.

Across the road, it looked at a restaurant. A man dressed for bad weather opened the restaurant door and went to enter. It added detergent to the water.

Funny. The man was clothed. It had never taken as much notice to clothes as it did looking out of Her house. Like a cat. A pet. Her pet. It looked down at it’s naked body. The glint of steel around it’s leather collar. The same glint as the steel chastity device further down. It turned off the taps.

It added the dirty cutlery and dishes to the water and went back to watching the real people. They filled the restaurant. Tables of real people with real cutlery. It looked down at it’s bowl on the floor. It had missed a piece of broccoli.

“What if they see me?” So? They’d see what they think is a man washing up (Ha!)

Washing the dishes with no shirt on? It could happen.

Washing the dishes in a pet collar?

It reached up to touch it’s collar. Was it in public view? It could take it off, but then it wouldn’t belong to Her in the exact way She wanted it to. It returned to work.

A couple left the restaurant. Not Mistress and Him. A man a woman that would go home and enjoy each other’s company. As it never would.

Mistress would be home from Her date soon, and the cleaning would continue.

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