As a young man, I had fallen deeply in love with a woman a few years my senior and was overjoyed when I found my affections returned. As our relationship developed, I found a calling in my heart to serve her and to please her. As my submission grew, so did her dominance, not to mention her sadism. Our dance of pain and control became a thing of beauty and joy for us both. But one day, that dance was to expand in ways I had not expected.
It was an unremarkable weekend, with both of us enjoying a very lazy Saturday. We'd just finished lunch and neither of us had bothered to get dressed yet, instead idly lounging on the bed. I was enjoying Kathy's body being pressed up against mine, as she snoozed, savouring the feeling of safety in the arms of my owner. Thinking about being a prized, adored possession of my darling makes me feel warm and happy, bringing up a wave of uncontrollable joy.
Her arm around my waist and our bodies pressed together, I was quite happy for us to remain so for the rest of the day, if not the rest of time, but I knew that she had arranged for a couple of her friends to come over soon and felt we should be appropriately dressed as such.
Not wishing to wake her too suddenly, I softly enquired after her, “Kathy?”
Speaking her name must have awoken something within my sleeping beauty, rewarding me with a sleepy, “I love you, my darling,” while her hand made its way from waist to my throat, asserting her dominance over me, even as she slept.
Pushing myself back up against her, I reached behind with my arm, caressing her rear, working my way up to scratching it lightly at first and then harder. As she woke from her slumber, grunting in annoyance at being woken, I explained why I disturbed her sleep.
“We're going to have guests my love, I should go get dressed.”
Considering my sleepy partner's current lack of clothes, besides rather revealing underwear, I added kindly, “And so should you.”
But as I attempted to rise, her grip on my throat tightened, forcing me back again, pinning me tightly against her.
“Pets do not get clothes, my little puppy.”
She roughly grabbed my hair with her other hand, pulling my ear to her mouth, so close I could feel her breath on my skin, hearing her breath go in and out, tantalisingly signalling the passing of time, as she held me in place.
After a few moments that felt like an age, she continued in a whisper, while I gulped apprehensively, not quite sure if my owner was serious, “Clothes are for people, not animals”.
Her terrifying-yet-titillating words were punctuated by a sharp bite to my earlobes, drawing blood which she hungrily sucked on, eliciting murmurs of my satisfaction at part of my body feeding and joining with my master. Even so, between the pain and the imminent prospect of being naked before her friends, my heart raced, filled with apprehension at the sudden and unexpected situation I found myself in, I blurted out, “But..”
My stammering was cut short as I felt her strong grip tightening my throat, accompanied by more toying words from my owner.
“Animals do not speak, little puppy. You are being a very bad puppy.”
Her chastisement was accompanied by another squeeze of my throat, eliciting an involuntary whimper from my petrified body. Though I knew she was just toying with me, and I also knew she would enjoy punishing me, doubly so with an audience. Fear was coursing through my veins.
Yet all that fear just made me try and push myself tighter up against my master, her presence bringing with it a great sense of safety, even when she was inflicting untold pain on her property.
Feeling my reaction, Kathy laughed, her grip relaxing a little, “My little puppy, trying to hide from me by snuggling up to me again? It's always cute when you do that. But now, I have to go get changed.”
I felt the weight shift on the bed as she stood up, feeling a moment of disappointment at the sight of my love motioning me to stay, before disappearing to get ready. So there I lay on the bed, my mind running with thoughts of how I'd soon be on display, like an animal, before a couple of strangers.
I whimpered, the mixture of fear and excitement, the apprehension and arousal too much for me to bear. Around and around my thoughts went, unsure of what was to come, the fear of the unknown pitted against my desire to please both my master and those she cared about. Yet even as I thought that, part of my mind rebelled against being treated as an animal and against the indignity of being displayed naked before strangers.
“Look what I have here for you, boy.”
Dragged back from my thoughts, I looked up, my eyes pulled away from her beautiful form towards the two items in her hands. One, a thickset dog collar, I had been expecting. The other, I had not. It looked like a tail, but with a butt plug attached. Realisation dawned, and I looked questioningly up at my owner, knowing from the look of playful glee on her face that this was happening, one way or the other.
“Heel, boy.”
Obediently, I stood up and began to stride towards he, eager to please. Apparently a little too eager.
“On your hands and knees, like the dog that you are.”
Responding to her order, I dropped to the ground and crawled towards her, feeling a little disappointed in myself and realising that the playful note of mischief in the tone of her voice didn't mean all was forgiven, but that she was looking forward to “punishing” me.
As I shivered with anticipation, she responded with a smile, noting the mixture of arousal and apprehension that her “punishments” evoked in me, enjoying the conflict inside me. But soon, even with my slow and degrading crawl, I was at my master's heels, looking up eagerly at the woman standing over me, ready to collar and tail me.
While she attached the collar around my neck, I stayed still, like the good boy I aspire to be. It was a snug fit around my neck, a reminder of her ownership and of my role as her pet, but it didn't inhibit movement, fortunately. When it came to inserting the tail, however, my hind-brain took over, backing me up, trying to escape my fate.
My face snapped to the left as the slap landed, leaving a sting to remind me of my insubordination.