im tied up in their basement. theyve stripped me of my clothes and put a collar on me and a gag around my mouth. they call me "puppy" and nothing else. sometimes they use me. sometimes they talk to me, knowing i cant respond. most of the time im alone.

they only remove my gag to give me food and water; they feed me by hand, and i find it humiliating to open my mouth and let them happily put spoonfuls of food in my mouth but what choice do i have. if i ever try to talk they hit me. at least the food isn't that bad.

it's been days, maybe weeks, i can't tell down here. one day they remove my gag, no food or water in sight, and for the first time they use my name. it's the first time i've heard it in so long. they ask me how im feeling. they make fun of me for my reluctance to answer, ask me where all that fire from the first few days went, if im really so easy to reduce to a silent object. angry, i answer. they seem pleased. we have a short conversation. im angry at first, but there's a part of me that's so relieved just to talk to someone that i almost forget, for a moment, who put me here.

they put the gag back on me. next time they take it off to feed me, i try to speak, and they hit me. i understand that it's business as usual. sometimes they use me. most of the time im alone.

days pass. again they remove my gag when it's not feeding time, use my name, ask me how im feeling. i answer. they strike me hard, tell me puppies don't talk. confused, betrayed (as if i'd trusted them -- as if they didn't do this to me), i try to say something again, and again they hit me, tell me puppies don't talk. they ask me how im feeling. obviously i dont answer. they're gentle, coaxing, "come on puppy, let me hear you answer." im confused. i start to speak, they hit me, tell me im so fucking stupid, i should understand what's expected of me by now, puppies dont talk. they kiss my face where they'd hit me and ask me, patiently, how im feeling. tell me they want to hear an answer.

i realize what they want and im so fucking angry i almost spit in their face. but i dont. i know they'd hit me, don't want to know how bad.

i hate them. i hate them for this. i suck it up and whine.

they smile, and praise me, and kiss me, calling me good girl. then they ask me another question, again i whine like a dog, and they reward me. on the next question, they tell me they want me to answer louder. i hate this, hate how easy it is for them to puppet me, but i whine louder. they laugh, delighted, and tell me that's not what they meant. i can feel the horrified shame in my throat when i realize that they want me to bark.

if i refuse, it'll mean more pain. i do it. i bark.

they spend a while gleefully using the rewards of praise and kisses and loving touches to get me used to whining and barking. i hate myself for doing it. i think about telling them to go fuck themself. what stops me is that while they have hit me in the past, they've never actually lost their temper. i don't want to see what that looks like.

the next time they remove my gag and call me by name and ask me how im feeling, i whine. they laugh and tell me to use my words. confused, i whine again, like a dog who doesn't understand why it's being reprimanded. they laugh like it's the funniest thing they've ever seen, tell me im really getting into this puppy bit.

nervously, i ask them, with words, if that isn't what they wanted me to do. they don't hit me, they seem happy, they tell me they just want to talk. they act like last time didn't happen.

we talk. it's nice to be able to talk. i almost wonder if i imagined it.

but, no. after they've kissed me goodbye and left, i think about it, and i know i didn't imagine anything.

as the months go by, i learn that there is no way to tell, no hint that they give when they take my gag off if they want me to speak or bark. speaking when they don't want me to always means pain. whining and barking when they want me to speak might only mean mockery, but might involve punishment. for a time i exclusively respond with barks and whines, only switching to words if they give me the all-clear, thinking it might be safer, but they become cold and impatient, telling me that if they wanted a dog they'd go get a dog.

they want me to guess. they want to be able to punish me for guessing wrong.