A Dog

“I’m sure that if it were you, Master, you would have made your beloved submit to you completely, both in body and in soul.”

“…Haha.”

Faced with Elka’s worshipful, doe-eyed praise, Anne couldn’t help but feel the corner of her mouth twitch. It was a good thing she hadn’t mentioned that she was here precisely to capture her own runaway beloved. Otherwise, her carefully constructed authority as a “master” would have been completely, and humiliatingly, undermined.

It’s all the Young Master’s fault.

Why did you have to run away?

It seems my methods will have to become much, much stricter.

Look at this Elka, she thought, a flicker of professional jealousy in her eyes. It’s only been two days, and it seems her lover has already completely, and willingly, surrendered his body and his soul.

“Come, shake.”

“Woof.”

“Now, lie down.”

“Woof.”

“Now, wag your tail.”

“Woof?”

“Ah, I forgot you can’t do that. Well then, wag your bottom.”

“Woof.”

“Such a good, good boy. You’re such a good boy, Rod. I’ll give you some delicious meat later.”

“Woof woof.”

He really is just like a dog.

Anne averted her gaze, a strange feeling twisting in her gut.

Could I really bring my Young Master to this state?

“Ah, right! The tea!”

After proudly showing off the fruits of her labor, Elka suddenly slapped her forehead, remembering the boiling water she had left on the stove. She hurried out of the room.

“I’ll go make the tea, Master! Please, make yourself at home and look around!”

Halfway out, she poked her head back in, a mischievous, teasing look on her face. “And don’t do anything naughty while I’m gone—”

“How could I? I already have someone I love.”

“Heehee, just kidding! As if I would ever suspect you, Master!”

Elka gave her a playful smile and disappeared.

With Elka gone, the room fell into a heavy, oppressive silence. The man on the floor slowly crawled into a corner, curling up in the “dog bed” Elka had so meticulously prepared for him, seemingly unconcerned that his dog-like actions were a complete and utter forfeiture of his human dignity.

“To think she has already trained him to this extent. Elka seems to be more capable than I imagined,” Anne mused softly, her gaze drifting around the room.

It appeared to have once been a master bedroom. The faint outlines of where a large bed had once stood were still visible on the floorboards. It had been slightly remodeled; the bed was gone, leaving only a dressing table and a wardrobe, making the room feel strangely, unnervingly empty.

“This is…”

Anne gently picked up a picture frame from the dressing table.

Inside was a painting of a family of three. In this world, ordinary families could rarely afford the expensive “magical photographs,” so most people hired cheap, itinerant artists to capture important moments, framing the paintings like photographs. The artwork wasn’t particularly refined, but Anne could tell at a glance that the cute little girl holding hands with the smiling, middle-aged man and woman was a young Elka.

“Are these Elka’s parents? She looks just like them.”

“Speaking of which, the portrait in the living room was of her parents as well. That means this house must belong to them. But where are they?”

Strange. Why am I thinking about this?

If they weren’t home, they must have gone out for some reason. What was there to be suspicious about? It must be that chasing after the Young Master for two days had left her mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Anne laughed at herself and put the frame back in its place. Her gaze fell upon a small statue next to it, a strange, abstract sculpture of a young woman embracing a heart, as if trying to crush it into her own chest. She paid it no mind.

And then, with a casual, almost absentminded motion… she opened the drawer of the dressing table.

The faint, professional smile on her lips instantly froze.

“Th-this is…”

Her mouth fell slightly agape. Staring up at her from the drawer was a vast, colorful, and deeply shocking assortment of… “toys,” the likes of which she had only ever read about in certain forbidden, leather-bound books.

The Rich Woman’s Happy Balls…

The Rich Woman’s Happy Whip…

The Rich Woman’s Happy… in short, it was the entire “Rich Woman’s Happy” product line, a dazzling, comprehensive, and deeply intimidating collection.

“Th-these things… if you use them on a person, will they really be okay?”

Even Anne, who had specifically studied human anatomy so as not to accidentally kill Ewan, couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Some of these things, though they were called “toys,” looked more like instruments of medieval torture.

If I were to use these things on my Young Master…

Oh, this is bad. I’m getting excited.

Anne slammed the drawer shut with a sharp crack. She rubbed her face, trying to force the tell-tale, betraying blush back down. As a maid, this was a great breach of decorum. At the very least, she should wait until she had actually captured the Young Master before getting this excited.

…

After a brief tour of the room, she found herself back in front of the man.

“You—”

Anne crouched down, looking at him, about to ask a question. But the words died in her throat.

The man before her was clean-shaven, his face clearly well-cared for. But his eyes… his eyes were completely vacant, his expression utterly, terrifyingly numb. He seemed to be staring at something, but the space before him was empty. Even his pupils didn’t seem to reflect her image.

When Anne placed a hand on his chin, he lifted his head as if by reflex.

And then—

“Woof.”

Though his eyes were filled with a despair and a pain so profound it could drown the entire world, the sound he made was one of pure, unadulterated, and perfectly conditioned joy.

He was like an automaton. Press a switch, and it moves. It dances its programmed dance with a beautiful smile on its face, but the soul within is long, long dead.

“Are… are you alright?”

Anne’s voice trembled slightly, a strange, unwelcome emotion twisting in her gut.

If her beloved Young Master Ewan were to become like this, would she still be happy? She had already resolved that it was fine if she only had his body, but would she truly, honestly be happy?

Would she?

“Woof…”

A flicker of confusion appeared in the man’s eyes. He seemed to have just noticed that the person before him was not the demon who had been tormenting him day and night.

“Ghh… ghh…”

He suddenly grabbed her arm, a strange, guttural, and desperate sound coming from his throat. He seemed to be trying to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out, like a castaway who had been alone on an island for twenty years, unable to remember the shape of human speech.

But by her calculations, he had only been “trained” for two days at most.

Finally, after a great, agonizing effort, Anne was able to make out the words the man was trying so desperately to say.

“Don’t… don’t go near that room…”

“Room?”

Anne followed his terrified gaze and saw that he was pointing to a closed door at the far end of the corridor.

“Why not? What’s in there?”

The man didn’t answer. He suddenly began to tremble violently, as if in the grip of some great, unspeakable terror, his large hand squeezing her arm so tightly it hurt. Anne knew that this man had once been a warrior strong enough to face a Dominator-class magical beast, but now, he was as fragile and helpless as a newborn infant.

“Don’t… don’t go near there… sob… in there…”

“What’s in there? Why are you crying?”

Anne was confused. She wanted to comfort him, to get more information. But the man suddenly threw her hand away and curled back up in his kennel, his body shaking.

“Woof.”

He lowered his head and once again became a dog.

…

“I love you.”