(Spike the pup’s point of view)
‘Is he dead?’ Spike the pup thought to himself. Before him on the couch, he glanced at the so-called ‘stray’ that his master had brought home.
He leaned his head to the side, staring at the boy, waiting for some kind of evidence of consciousness, or at least a sign of life. A few minutes passed without any results, which in dog years made him worry even more. Thankfully, the boy muttered under his quiet breath and turned his head side. The dog sighed in relief as he wiped a paw on his forehead.
‘Thank goodness, master’s mate is still alive,’ the pup smiled as he approached the base of the couch. ‘I was worried about you for a minute there. A human minute, that is,’ the pup joked.
Sadly, the joke went unheard, and for good reason. For one, the boy was still in his sleeping daze. And lastly, humans don’t speak dog.
‘Oh right, you can’t understand what I’m saying,’ he said, this time to himself while glancing towards the floor. He made his way on top of the cushion, keeping in mind that he needed to be quiet. Though the size that he was made it a challenge on its own.
‘Why does everything that humans make have to be so big,’ he whimpered as he kicked his hind legs behind him. Eventually, he scratched his hind claws against the cloth, gaining the leverage he needed. One front paw after another, he made his way up higher on the soft cushion. ‘If I could do it a while ago, I can do it now.’ he muttered in doggy wines.
Soon enough, he made it on top of the couch. In hindsight, he probably should have just jumped on top on the cushion instead of climbing it. He mentally slapped himself on the forehead then faced the two individuals beside him. His master, Gilda, had already joined her potential mate, Spike, in slumber. This time, they laid on separate sides of the couch. Spike the pup, sat in between the two. To his left, directly in front of him, were Gilda’s feet. The pup glanced about her toes to see her with a remote at hand. On his right, the green-haired boy’s head was mostly covered in bandages. The pup gently put his paws over on his head and looked over a the boy’s face, taking note of the injuries that were clearly visible on his face.
‘Jeez, I’ve heard of tough love, but I think master needs to take it down a notch,’ the pup thought as he drooped his ears.
He glanced forward further down the boy’s body to see the same ice pack that he had brought earlier. The water had escaped the plastic and made a rather large wet spot on near his groin on the blanket. Spike the pup redirected his attention to a nearby window. The day had already been eaten away by the darkness of the night, and the sound of crickets chirped away in the moonlight.
The pup looked back down to the boy under his paws, ‘you are probably not going home till morning, buddy. Right now is probably a good time to get comfortable with master and wait it out until sunrise.’
Still no response from the bandaged teen.
Spike the pup facepawed, ‘Again, right you still can’t understand what I’m saying.’
The pup suddenly felt the teens head shifted along with a moan of pain, probably due to the sudden change in weight from one of his paws. The pup quickly knew that he was pressing too hard on the teen’s still-sensitive head, and took his paw off his skull.
‘Oh, biscuits, your head is still mush!’
The pup jolted himself back to the middle of the two with both paws in the air as the boy continued to shift around in his sheets. A few moments later, the teen took a couple breaths and his body calmed, to the dog’s relief.
Spike the pup wiped his paw on his forehead, ‘That was a close one.’
After a breath of relief, the small canine glanced between the two, noticing the rather large gap.
‘This is not how mates are supposed to be. They need to closer together,’ the pup groaned. ‘Well...at least, that’s what I heard from the other dogs.’
‘They need to cuddle….’ a voice called out from a distance.
Spike the pup’s ears perked up at the sudden sound. He looked around the room, seeing no other person or dog in sight. The only other human that would be in the house would be his master’s caretakers, but they were away this weekend. The canine scratched his scalp, confused as to who and where the voice came from.
‘I’m at the window, pup,’ the voice called again. The pup jerked his head to a nearby window, however, no one was present. ‘The other window.’
The pup turned his attention at another empty window. An inpatient knock against glass turned his attention to yet another window, this time with someone actually there.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ Spike barked anxiously. Now in his line of sight, he stared at the white-furred feline perched on the window sill. ‘W-w-what are you doing here?’
‘Please, it’s not like I wanted to be here,’ she mowed, rolling her eyes. ‘I just wanted to see what was going on. Your “master” brought home that guy,’ she gestured to the bandaged boy. ‘I just wanted to see what was going on. I was…. curious that's all.’
‘Yeah, right, that’s what they all say,’ the pup barked softly. ‘Ever since I moved here weeks ago, which is a long time in dog years, mind you, you’ve been constantly hovering over me! What’s your deal cat!? Can’t you leave a dog at peace?’
Said cat rolled her eyes again, ‘I have a name, you know.’ she purred. Though in translation, the pup took it more as a threat.
The small canine gulped, ‘R-r-right, Madam Opalescence.’
‘It’s just Opal, I told you that already, Spike’ She mowed, irritated. ‘And I already told you that I wasn’t going to hurt you.’
‘You chased me earlier today!’
‘No, I did not. I was laying on top of the roof when I saw you peeing on a tree, so I decided to say hi.’
‘You snuck up on me, and you were going to attack me!’
Once again, Opal rolled her eyes, ‘I just tapped your shoulder. Before I could say anything else, you ran off peeing the rest of the way might I add.’
‘That’s because you scared that pee out of me. I ran for blocks after that.’
Opal facepawed, ‘Look pup, listen for a minute. There’s a friend that wanted me to talk to you so that you can go talk to her.’
‘There is no way that I’m falling for that,’ Spike pointed his paw at the white-furred cat. ‘You are just going to lead me somewhere and get mobbed by some other cats!’
‘What crazy accusations are you implying?’ Opla snarled. ‘What kind of crazy stuff have you been listening to?’
‘A friend of mine told me everything I needed to know about cats. You all are scary and will attack every dog in sight no matter what size they are.’
‘Where did you... whatever,’ Opla replied. ‘just listen to what I have to say here. That human… wait, why does he have bandages in his head?’ Opla gestured to the bandaged boy.
Spike turned his head to the teen, then back to Opla, ‘Master said that he was having a rough day.’
The feline glanced at the bandaged boy, the girl next to him, then back at the pup.
‘Right…’ She replied, leaving that part of the conversation alone. ‘Anyways, I have to go. I have some important things to do this evening.’
Opla stands up on the windowsill and turns away from the window, but before she left she turned her head back to the dog.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to talk to her? She really is a nice dog that wants to see you.’
Spike rolled his eyes, ‘As I told you before. I am not going to follow you where I can get ambushed by any of your cat friends. And even if she is a “dog” why doesn’t she come here? Until I see this “dog friend” of yours’, the pup quotes with his paws, ‘I’m not leaving the yard or this house until I have proof.’
Opal rolled her eye and sighed, ‘Alright, I’ll tell her... again.’ She leapt off the ledge and disappeared out of sight, much to the pup’s relief.
Spike let out a long sigh as he fell flat on the floor. ‘That was so scary,’ he barked under his breath. ‘I thought I was going to pee myself...again.’
The small pup thought back to the other times he had peed before because of that cat, or cats in general. He shook his head, wiping that particular memory from his mind. After a deep breath, he stood back on all fours and made his way back to the base of the couch. He glanced back and forth at the two teen all the while rubbing his chin with a paw.
‘Hmmm,’ he pondered. ‘maybe that cat was on to something.’ He continued to glance at the two for a few moments before a thought came to mind.
‘Wait a minute…. How do humans cuddle?’
The pup scratched the back of his head as he glanced towards the floor. Sure, he had heard how others cuddled before, but they weren't humans. Though there was that one time with some squirrels, but they were rather aggressive about it for some reason.
‘Boy, I wish I had some kind of reference of some kind,’ Spike sighed under his breath. Just as he barked that sentence, the word “reference” sparked in his head. He got onto all fours and made his way to the doorway leading to his master’s room. Thankfully, the door was already cracked open, so all he had to do was press the door forward to enter. It may have been somewhat dark in the room, but luckily the digital clock on the nightstand lit the room. Immediately after entering the room, he made his way to a nearby dresser at the corner of the room, eyeing a particular drawer at the bottom of it.
Fortunately, the design of the knob of the dresser allowed him to grip it in his teeth. Though gripping it was one thing, but that didn’t make the drawer any lighter than it was. The pup took hold of the handle, pulling on it with all the strength that his little body could provide.
One tug after another, he moved the wooden drawer inch by inch, thought it was truthfully closer to half an inch by half an inch.
After a small while of tugging and breaks for taking a breath, he managed to pull the box almost to the edge. It barely hung on its internal rollers, not quite far enough to fall. The pup lets go of the knob, taking in as much air as his little lungs could hold, then gripped the knob and tugged it with full force. The drawer lets out a loud pop and metal snapped as it fell off its railing, falling flat on the floor. Spike barked, proud of his success as he eyed the contents of the drawer.
All that he could comprehend based on what he could see was an assortment of cloth. Being a dog himself, the cloth was a large array of different hues of black and white, along with different patterns. Though some of them looked like they had frills on the edges of them.
‘Nope.’ the pup barked. He walked over the box and its cloth and made his way to the opened dresser, climbing right into it. The light in the room was somewhat dim, but the inside of the dresser was much darker, making it harder for him to see.
He felt around the bottom of the floor with his paws from one corner to the next. When his right paw was at the far right, he felt something brush against his pads. He focused his attention more on the area with both paws, feeling around on what he could be recognized as an assortment of books of some kind. He took one of them into his muzzle and hopped out of the dark enclosure, landing first on the cloth, then out onto the floor. He made his way to the desk next to the dresser. He propped himself on the chair and laid the book on the wooden surface.
He attempted to glance at the cover of the book he just retrieved, but unfortunately, the little light provided by the digital clock didn’t help too much. The pup looked around the desk, hoping for something that would help him see the book better. To the right of the desk, he eyed a lamp with a push button on its base near him. He pressed the button, activating the light on top of the lamp. The light somewhat blinded Spike for a moment. After a few seconds and rubbing his eyelids, his pupils adjusted to the radiating light, and he was able to see the book perfectly.
Reading the book, however, wasn’t something that he could do, nor could he see the color of the cover. To him, in black and white, the cover of the book showed two individuals, one female, and one male. He inspected the cover of the two, seeing that the two of them were rather close together, really close.
‘This will work perfectly,’ the pup barked with glee.
The canine opened the book, studying the fist page of the book. Luckily for him, this particular book wasn’t mainly comprised of words, rather it had mostly pictures. He flipped each page as he glanced at each of them carefully for anything that he could use to figure out how exactly humans “Cuddled”.
Not twenty pages into the book, Spike found the same individual that were on the cover. He cocked his head as he looked closer at the two; somehow they seemed closer, a little too close. However, the pup was determined to do everything that could help his master. He flipped to the next page, studying the reference as he traced his paw past each set of pictures. Towards the end sets of the two pages, one particular strip caught his eye.
‘That might work.’
(7 AM Saturday)
There are days in a boy's life that made getting up early in the morning a great thing to take into consideration. Waking up to get a head start on the day to do something productive, or to hang out with friends and have fun was a significant factor to consider. However, this wasn’t a day where waking up early would benefit a particular green-haired teen.
“Errrrr…” the teen moaned.
Or any time before noon for that matter.
“Why does my head hurt?” Spike asked. However, the pain in his head wasn’t as bad as he made it sound, it was more like light pressure compared to the rest of his body. He shifted around in his mid-slumber, though not very much in an attempt to relieve the tension and fall back to sleep. Nevertheless, joint after joint, they popped all over his scrawny body, bones crackled against each other in his jaw, neck, chest, and all the way to his toes. He hissed one pop after another, each gas burst, having different jolts of pain signals sent into his nervous system. Some were more painful than usual, while others were more like that of a knuckle pop, though they weren’t in his hands. It wasn’t too painful, but it sure wasn’t the most comforting for his body. Definitely not something that he wanted to wake up to, either.
He twisted his head side to side, relieving the stress built up in his joints.
*crack* “Ow…” *crack* “Owww,” He breathed through his teeth before letting his entire body fall motionless. Even then he could still feel the raging sores of his body, especially on both his cheeks and for some odd reason his groin.
His body had never been this sore since the time when he was forced to help out with Rainbow Dash and Applejack had their contest that one time. He wasn’t hurt too badly after that, but it still bothered him that they used him, a boy that wasn’t built for intensive force, instead of something more suitable like farm animals for the “Athletic” activities. Not to mention, more sturdy. He couldn’t begin to count how many times he begged them to go easier on him with the ropes and pinning him down. Furthermore, almost the same groin pain was present as when he was “bucked” off their backs, if not more so, he wasn’t quite sure at the moment. Again he had the same burning question as to whose cockamamie main idea was that in the first place.
Spike brought both hands to the throbbing area, “Ahhh… My eggs,” he moaned in a high pitched tone. Yep, this was definitely second to the “Buck” groin pain. Nothing is going to beat what those two did to his groin.
Despite the desire for ice for his “eggs”, the soreness pulsating through his body kept him at bay. He let out a long, rusty, cracked sigh as he shifted his body to the right of him. His face, in the midst of going flat on the soft surface he laid on, instead had his right cheek landed on something much softer.
Despite the fact that his head was still mush, this softness felt rather nice against his cheek. Definitely much softer than any pillow that he had rested his head on before. He hummed softly to himself as he scooted closer to this new pillow of his. Wondering to himself where on Earth mom found such a cloud-like pillow, and when she put it in his room while he was sleeping without him noticing.
That didn’t matter to him at the moment, he could ask later. Well, that’s if he was able to part from such a pillow.
The softness of the pillow wasn’t its only appealing attribute, not by a longshot. Normally the teen preferred his pillows to be cold as opposed to the warm one pressed on his cheek. However, the warmth of this one was on a totally different level. To say that it was satisfying against his flesh couldn't begin to describe the well-balanced softness and warmth it had.
The urge in him had built up enough for him to overlook the surging pain and laid his palm flat on the soft surfs. He caressed the softness within his grasp, but he didn’t grip too hard. Instead, he gripped the softness of the pillow gently, letting it mold back into shape as he loosened his fingers and slowly gripped again.
“Hmmmmmmmm” a fused moan seeped into his ear drums. Immediately, his hand paused, still in the midst of a lost grip on the pillow.
‘What was that?’ the teen thought. Hesitant, he decided to further tighten his grip on the ‘pillow’.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmm,” the same moan echoed in his ear again. His heart skipped a few beats, and then the circulation of the blood to his brain increased dramatically. Though it didn’t take much for him to realize that maybe, just maybe, whatever was in his hand and against his face wasn’t a pillow.
The boy gulped, letting his grip loosen once more... and squeezed.
“Stop that…” the voice whispered out.
The tension in his chest, as well as the beating of his heart. Added more into his anxiety, he felt something wrap around his waist and downward along his lower back. Still reluctant to open his eyes, he attempted to wiggle his way out.
However, by the playful contempt that life had for him, the muscled mass wrapped tighter around his body. He tried to wiggle harder out of the grip, but the mass locked on him tighter. Whatever was on him didn’t seem like it was going to let him go anytime soon.
It was then in the midst of his climbing concern that there was a rather steady rhythm beating under his palm. He froze in place, leading all his energy to his thought processes, though it didn’t take much to shout in his mind that he should probably move his hand immediately.
He slowly released the pillow, though now he knew that it definitely wasn’t a pillow. Again, life still had its crude humor against him, as another hand quickly gripped his wrist before he could depart. Spike let out a quiet, high-pitched whimper as he tried to break off the grip with fruitless results. Though not painful, the hand gripped harder on his wrist as he desperately tried to part.
As much as he would’ve liked to use his other hand to free himself, the entire arm itself was pinned down by the mass which held his body in such a tight locking position, leaving him totally immobilized.
“What the hell!” the voice whispered again, sending chills up the young teen’s spine.
He gulped again, slowly cracking his left eye open much to his mind’s displeasure. While his vision was hazy, he could make out an outline of someone else close to his side. A moment later his eye dilated past the morning dose and gazed straight into a pair of golden ones. He opened the other eye, meeting both the other eyes and more importantly, the person that had them.
“G-G-Gilda?” He quivered under his breath.
He stared at the girl next to him, as did she. Her white hair with its purple highlights at its ends scatter all over her face, covering the position of her face and eyes. Though it wasn’t hard for him to see the confusion that plastered her face. He traced his vision downwards to his wrist eyeing her firm grip on it. Coherently, what it was that he had in his hands.
His mind was right about it not being a pillow, per say, that he had in his grip, still in somewhat pressed against his palm. Now, however, he wished that he listened to the protest in his brain to open his eyes. Lower down his abdomen he glanced at the muscular mass that pinned him and his arm. The word muscular turned out to be the right description for the mass., said mass belonging to the girl right beside him. The leg to be precise.
He blinked, gathering his thoughts in his mind.
His body felt sore in several areas that he hadn’t felt sore since the whole contest with Applejack and Rainbow, which also included his groin. His hand was currently holding good reason for a death sentence. Her leg was wrapped around his waist in a tight grip that prevented him from escaping.
And his hand was still firmly pressed against the cloth of her shirt, along with the flesh mounds that laid underneath the shirt.
The smaller teen raised his head back to Gilda’s eyes hoping for some kind of reasonable explanation. However, she shared the same bewildered expression plastered on her face as he did. He didn’t have to be an expert to know what was going to happen next. He may not know how exactly he got there, but his current position told him everything that’s to follow.
He was fondling a girl’s breast and was caught red-handed, and to top it off, the hand in question was well bound in her grasp. Not mention that he was in the perfect position for instantaneous punishment.
Spike opened his quivering mouth, wanting to explain his position somehow. As to the explanation, there was none to be processed in his mind to translate into words. Instead, he released a long, awkward creak out of his gaping mouth.
“Uhhhhhhh….” he breathed out.
The tension built up higher and higher in the room. He stared upwards at Gilda, and she stared back at him.
She glanced at him, one side of his body to the other, tracing as to why the heck he was in her grasp. Becoming well aware that she had basically had him under half of her body, that being her leg was currently pinning him down, eyeing too that his arm was well-locked in her grip.
In relation to that, she traced her attention to his other arm down from his shoulder to his wrist. Now that that had been made apparent, she took notice of the slight tension of his arm tugging in her hand.
She traced further up his arm in her grip. Though it wasn’t his wrist that was the only thing in some form of a grip. Clear in her vision, she spotted his right palm pressed against her breast
“Uhhhhhh…” Gilda too replied. The athlete glanced at the boy’s face and back to his hand, presumed held against his will, then back to his face.
The two opened their mouths to attempt to say something that would explain anything to their current predicament. Each time they opened their mouths, the other would close theirs, an awkward creak passing through their throats, then closing it to let the other speak, cycling back to closing their own.
Eventually, Spike decided to close his mouth altogether.
“Morning,” Gilda said, breaking the cycle.
“Morning,” Spike replied.
The two teens stared at each other in the awkward silence.The tension of the silence was eating them from the inside far too much to continue further into the conversation, much so from moving, especially with how strange their current position was.
On Spike’s side of the situation much it could possibly hurt him in the long run. He took a few moments to compile the best choice of words that may or may not result in an instant beating.
“Ummm... can I have my hand back?”