Hector's Vacation (Short Story)

Hector woke up mid-morning with the sun streaming in through the window, alone in the king sized bed.  Miss Sarah had told him she’d be going out shopping this morning.

The first thing he did was to kneel down on the floor and recite his first mantra.  He’d been doing this every morning for over a year now, and it always helped him to start the day feeling docile and obedient.  Today, it was extra thrilling getting to recite his mantra mere inches away from where Miss Sarah had slept the night before.  The memory of reciting his bedtime mantra while she’d watched sent a thrill of pleasure down his spine.

Five minutes later, his mantra finished, he got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen.  It was a little beach house they’d rented just for the week, so the kitchen wasn’t well stocked, but there was a small pile of ingredients and supplies on the counter with a note from Miss Sarah: Text me after you’ve eaten breakfast.  Hector smiled at the note, excited to see what she had planned for him.

He took the time to make himself a nice breakfast - omelet, fresh fruit, and a nice cup of tea.  He knew that she hadn’t asked him to rush his breakfast, and that meant he should follow his usual routine.  He loved the way she made him feel cared for, just by reminding him to look after himself.  “I want my pet to be at his best for when I want to play,” she had told him.

It was almost 10 AM when he texted her.  “I’ve eaten my breakfast, Miss.  How can I serve you?”

“What a good boy you are, so eager to please,” she responded.  “There’s a potato on the counter.  Peel it, then boil it until it’s cooked and text me again.”

“Yes, Miss Sarah.”

She hadn’t given him any instructions for what to do while waiting for the potato to cook, so after washing the dishes he just stood in the kitchen watching the water boil.  He wasn’t quite sure how long it should take, and didn’t want to risk overcooking it.

Finally, he texted her again.  “The potato is cooked, Miss.”

“Wonderful,” she replied.  “Take it out of the water and put it in the mixing bowl.  Then mash it, adding the bag of powdered sugar a bit at a time.”

He looked at the bag of sugar she had mentioned.  “There’s a full pound of sugar here, Miss.”

“Have I instructed you to question me?”

He bit his lip.  “No, Miss, you haven’t.  I’m sorry.  I will begin adding the sugar now.”

“Good boy.  When that’s done, add a teaspoon of vanilla and half the bag of shredded coconut.  Send me a picture when you’ve done all that.”

A couple minutes later, he sent her the picture.  The potato had become soupy when he’d added the sugar, and was now feeling like a stiff dough with the coconut in it.

“Looks lovely,” she replied.  “Cover it and put it in the fridge.  Do your workout, eat your lunch, then text me for further instructions.”

“Yes, Miss.”

His workout went exceptionally well today, as he felt pleasantly energized from having been serving Miss Sarah all morning.  Lunch was nothing fancy, just leftovers from the previous night, but between the workout and the cooking he had worked up an appetite and so it tasted delicious.

When he’d finished, he texted her again.  “My workout went very well today, Miss, and I’ve eaten my lunch.  I am feeling eager to serve you more.”

“What a good boy you are,” she answered.  “Next step: Place a sheet of wax paper on the cookie sheet and roll the potato mix into bite sized balls to place on the wax paper.  When you’re done, put them back in the fridge and text me again.”

“Yes, Miss.”

When he had placed almost three dozen potato balls back into the fridge, he texted her that he was finished.

“Good boy.  Go take a shower, recite your second daily mantra for ten minutes, then get dressed and text me for further instructions.”

“Yes, Miss.”

He didn’t usually recite his mantras naked, but he enjoyed the extra sense of vulnerability it added today.

45 minutes later, feeling pleasantly blank and obedient, he texted her again.

“I am clean and dressed, Miss Sarah, and enjoyed reciting my mantra for you.  How can I serve you?”

“Good boy.  Melt the chocolate, four ounces at a time, and dip the potato balls in to cover them.  Put them back on the wax paper after, and then back in the fridge to chill.”

“Yes, Miss Sarah.”

He noticed that the chocolate she had provided was unsweetened, but he knew better than to question her.  Miss Sarah knew best.

When he’d finished, he texted her again.

“They’re back in the fridge, Miss, all covered in chocolate now.”

“Very good, pet,” she replied.  “I’ll be home in an hour.  See that the dishes are clean and the table is set for dinner.  And put on that pretty tie I like.”

“Yes, Miss.”

He felt giddy with excitement preparing for her return.  He’d felt her presence all day, of course, following the routine she’d set out for him and being praised for doing so.  But being in the same room with her was a special kind of thrill.

He was waiting on his knees when she came through the door.

“Look at how well trained you are,” she purred, running her fingers through his hair before tilting his face up to meet her gaze.  He felt his chest swell with pride.

She set down her bags - several shopping bags, plus one containing takeout for dinner - and opened the fridge.

“Goodness, pet, these look lovely,” she said as she picked up one of the candies.  She bit into one, took her time to enjoy the flavor, licked her lips.  “And they taste wonderful as well.  Very well done, my dear.”

“Thank you, M -”

“Shut up,” she said, cutting him off with a snap of her fingers.  He felt his voice catch in his throat.  “You’re going to eat your dinner here on the floor,” she told him, placing a plate down in front of him.  “I’ll eat at the table, and if you continue to please me for the rest of the night, I’ll let you taste the dessert you’ve made.”

She held his gaze for a few more moments, taking in the sight of her pet kneeling and helpless before her.  She gripped his tie and gave a gentle tug to bring his face forward just a bit.  “Say thank you, pet,” she commanded, snapping her fingers again.

“Thank you, Miss,” he answered automatically.

“Good boy.  Enjoy your dinner.”

And she walked past him to bring her plate to the table behind him.