On his hands and knees in the giant's palm, the little man lolled his tongue out of his mouth, rapidly breathing in and out. His captor smiled and patted his head, making his face burn hot with humiliation.

"Which one is that?" the giant's wife called from the bathroom, looking at the two of them through the mirror.

"The dog," Alan replied, giving his slave a knowing look. Dog barked a reply.

"Aww, I like that one," Margot said, sauntering into the room in nothing but a long green bathrobe. "He's so well-trained."

"Well, he spends all day with you," Alan replied, kissing his wife as she fell into bed next to him. The Dog was set down on his bare chest, and the hard abs underneath reminded him of the giant's godlike strength. He whimpered, falling back on his haunches, palms against Alan's chest.

"Are you hungry, boy?" Margot asked. Looking up, Dog noticed a wide length of her cleavage visible through a part in her robe; based on the teasing look she was giving him, he wasn't sure it was unintentional. He barked again, eagerly, to signal his hunger.

"Don't give him any dinner, he's being punished!"

"Trust me, this will be punishment enough." Margot turned briefly, getting a jar of peanut butter from within the bedside table. "Did you ever do this when you were a kid?"

Noticing what was in his wife's hand, Alan burst into laughter, holding a hand to his mouth. Dog fell to his side, his fingers digging in to the hard flesh beneath him for purchase. When he felt something hard and warm poke him in the back, and had both of Alan's hands in his field of vision, he whimpered involuntarily.

"You're really gonna let him do that to you, though?" Alan asked, still chuckling with pity for the poor thing. Margot shook her head, beaming.

"Not me, silly." She pulled the sheet down, exposing her husband's nudity below the waist. Taking the top off the jar, she dipped her little finger in, sliding it through the creamy mix, then placed her finger in her thumb and sucked. With the rapt attention of both men, she felt a bit like a goddess playing with a lowly little mortal.

"See, Dog is going to be a good boy," Margot began, putting her index finger in the jar this time. She pulled out a small dollop of peanut butter and leaned over, carefully setting it down and spreading it across her husband's shaved scrotum. "And lick his dinner off your balls."

Dog's heart sunk in his chest. It hadn't been too long since he'd lost to the businessman to whom he now belonged; only a few weeks, if he'd been counting correctly. Still, in that time, Alan had taken a particular interest in him, breaking him down into what he'd now become. Margot had participated from time to time, but never had she come up with something so demeaning. Despite how low he'd fallen, despite his growling stomach and the smug, eager expressions of the giants above him, Dog wanted to believe there was a line he wouldn't cross. He wanted to believe he still had a shred of dignity.

"Lick it up, Dog." Alan's tone said everything the little man needed to know. It wasn't even so much a command as it was an expectation. A certainty that Dog was delaying by remaining immobile. It was known that he would obey, because what other choice did he have? His life was no longer truly his, and those to whom it now belonged had decided he would lick peanut butter off another man's testicles.

Resignedly, he turned around and began to crawl. Alan's enormous erection loomed over him, certainly several times bigger than he himself was now; yet another reminder of his insignificance. He thought of how he lusted after Alan's wife, harboring ideas of running his hands along her breasts, feeling her lips on his neck, the warm, gripping sensation of being inside her; delusions, to the last. She teased him because his impotence amused her, nothing more. He would likely die without ever fucking another woman, meanwhile his owner was using his own humiliation as foreplay with his gorgeous wife.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Margot exclaimed, slapping her forehead. Dog turned, momentarily believing that somehow this was all a joke, that he wasn't really expected to debase himself like this. When he saw that her attention had shifted off of him entirely, he kicked himself for hoping.

"Yes?"

"Our little May won today."

"Really? Who'd she beat?"

"Get this: the Ainsley girl."

Alan erupted into another round of laughter, with Margot giggling into his chest. "Are you kidding? Tom's girl? I can't believe it!"

"It's true! The little doll's indisposed at the moment, but May'll have her available by tomorrow afternoon."

"That's great. That's really great, I'm so proud of her. I knew she'd be good at it." He looked down at Dog, who was staring forlornly at his meal. "Hey, Dog, you not hungry or something?"

Knowing that the question wasn't really a question, Dog lowered his face to the spread and started to lick. The mixture of peanut butter and crotch sweat was more unpleasant than not, but he was determined to not let it show. That would be his victory.

Margot giggled. "Look at him, I think he likes it!" Together they snickered down at their pet. No matter what he did, he couldn't get over on them. He couldn't have a moment of pride, or small, personal victories.

He was, after all, a Loser.