While Buddy began to clean up his slimy mess, Marci tossed her keys to Betty. "There's a bag on the front passenger seat of my car. Go get it."

Turning to Sheila, she told her, "I brought some things along, thinking we might want to try some on Buddy. He needs certain restraints to enhance the experience," she said, smiling warmly. "My goddess, Sheila, you were magnificent! I am so pleased with you, I can't tell you. One would think you'd been doing bondage all your life!"

Buddy had finished licking up all the cum from the floor and Sheila's foot. His orgasmic high having faded, he was naturally beginning to doubt the sanity of what he was doing. He did like the taste of his cum, though, and the way it felt in his mouth. And he couldn't help thinking that if he were a real dog, he'd be able to lick his cock and balls, and clean them up too.

What the fuck is wrong with me? he asked himself, teetering between fantasy and reality. But which was which? This had really happened! I actually ate my mother-in-law's pussy and let myself be degraded in front of a complete stranger... acting like an animal, eating cum... And now they're talking about restraints? Why is it making me horny again?

Betty came back in with the bag, a large cloth tote, and handed it to Marci, who immediately started rummaging in it.

"Okay, here's a collar and a leash—that's essential, of course..." She also took out a big roll of medical tape. "Now where's that gag... hmm, I know I packed the special... Ah, here it is!" She added an oval ring-gag to the things on the coffee table.

"That's the main stuff." She continued to dig in the bag. "Go ahead and collar him, dear," she said to Sheila. "I've just got one more thing I want to try."

Sheila picked up the collar—the leash was already attached. It was about two inches wide and made of leather with a felt lining, for comfort, she supposed—good thing because he's going to be bearing it all the time, she thought—and it had a buckle, like a belt, with three holes and a loop to hold the end in place.

"Hold still, Buddy," she said, standing up in front of him. He was still on his knees with his hands on the floor. Sheila placed her feet on either side of his hands and leaned down to put the collar around his neck.

Buddy pressed his face into her groin. He had gotten a whiff of her pussy and wanted more. Her flimsy shorts were no barrier to the scent of her arousal; she was in quite a heated state!

"I said, Hold STILL," she admonished, almost giggling as he began avidly licking the fabric separating his nose from the source of her exciting aroma.

She managed to get the collar fastened, but she had to take a big step backwards as she straightened up, almost falling back into her chair. "Buddy! Down!" she shouted, but he continued to pursue her fragrant cunt.

"Here, Sheila, you'd better use this," Marci said, handing her an equestrian quirt from her bag of tricks.

"I said DOWN!" Sheila shouted again, this time accentuating the command with a sharp thwack on Buddy's naked hindquarters. That did the trick. Buddy yelped in surprise; he hadn't seen it coming. And he looked up reproachfully at Sheila, who was brandishing the short whip threateningly and trying not to laugh.

Marci did laugh; the two of them, Buddy looking shocked and Sheila all mock sternness, made a pretty funny tableau. "C'mon you two. Let's get the rest of this stuff on."

She held up the gag. "This part goes in his mouth..." She brought it to Buddy and stood behind him, reached over, and pressed it to his lips. Buddy opened his mouth and let Marci place the firm rubber ring right behind his front teeth. It stretched his jaw open, but it felt comfortable as he bit down. It was wider than it was tall, so it didn't force his chin too far down, and the opening was wide enough to let his tongue through comfortably.

"...and this part buckles behind his head... like this. There," she said, satisfied. "This type of gag is perfect for a doggy-pet: he won't be able to talk, which is important, and it makes him drool, just like a real dog. Plus, he can use his tongue, which is very important!" She winked at Sheila.

Buddy was being quite docile throughout, but his compliance was not without doubts and a little fear. This is a lot of fun right now, he thought, but how long am I going to have to wear this stuff?

"Okay," Marci continued. "Hands next. Buddy, give me your paw." Buddy lifted his right hand and extended it to Marci, who instructed Sheila to hold it by the wrist. "Make a fist, Buddy."

She took the roll of medical tape and began to wind it over and around the back of his hand to the thumb, over his knuckles, under his fingers curled into his palm, and so forth, round and round, layer upon layer, until his hand looked like a big wad of tape.

As she repeated the operation on his left paw, she explained, "There are two reasons for this; first, he can't use his hands, and second, it'll protect him from injury going around on all fours. What you really want is a pair of boxing gloves, but this is the best we can do for now."

Buddy tried crawling around on his knuckles and knees. His hands definitely felt better than his knees did. Marci must have read his mind; she said, "Another thing you should get is knee pads, otherwise he's going to get sore fast." Buddy tried using his feet instead of his knees, but it was way too awkward.

"One more thing," Marci announced, and she took a webbed belt, a couple of leather ankle cuffs, and two bunjee cords out of the bag. "This is a bit experimental, but it should work."

Buddy was still as Marci buckled the belt around his waist, but started to bolt when she reached for his left ankle. "Hold him, Sheila," she said, grasping his ankle firmly as he tried to jerk it away. Sheila grabbed his collar and trapped his head between her strong thighs, squeezing hard.

"It's okay, Buddy," she crooned soothingly, "Mommy won't let Marci hurt her precious pet."

Buddy wasn't so sure. This was going a little too far, he thought, but once again, his libido won out; it was too exciting. Being dominated in this way was having a dizzyingly erotic effect on him and he knew he had to see it through. Whatever are they going to do to me next? he wondered.

Marci got both cuffs onto his ankles and then attached a bunjee cord to each cuff. "Yes, I think the 24-inch length is the right size," she said. She fastened the other ends of the cords to the belt at Buddy's waist, so that his left ankle was connected to the left side of his trunk and the right one to the right side.

"I think this is going to work!" Marci proclaimed happily. "See, this keeps him from being able to stand up, but he still has a lot of flexibility. I think he'll be able to get on and off the furniture this way... if you want to allow that sort of thing," she added with a grin.

"Sheila, why don't you take Buddy for a walk in the yard while I have Betty straighten things up in here?" Marci suggested, handing Sheila the leash, "Make sure he goes potty," she grinned, "we don't want any accidents in the house, do we?"

Sheila took the leash, delighted at the prospect of exercising her pet. Buddy, for his part, was even more apprehensive than before, but, as all three of the women noticed, his cock was as stiff as ever.

"Go ahead," Marci waved them toward the kitchen where the patio door led to the back yard. "Betty and I have something really special planned for when you get back!"

When Sheila led Buddy back into the house, she found Betty in the kitchen. Sheila was getting used to seeing her mother naked.

"Did you have a nice walk, dear?" Betty asked her daughter. "How did he behave?"

Sheila laughed and, bending down to unclip the leash, answered, "Yes." She patted Buddy on the head and ruffled his curly gray hair. "He was a good boy, weren't you, Buddy!" she said in the sing-song voice of a trainer praising her pet.

"I walked him all along the fence line, and he lifted his leg and peed in the flower bed, just like a good little doggy." She petted him again. "I think his knees are a little sore - the grass wasn't too bad, but the patio... looked like it hurt a little."

"You need knee pads, like Marci said." Betty got a bowl and three wine glasses out of the cupboard. "You should start a shopping list for your new pet."

She looked down at Buddy, sitting up on his haunches next to Sheila. In this position, his cock and balls were in full view. She unconsciously licked her lips.

"Another thing you're going to need is a doggy bowl." She placed the bowl and the glasses on the kitchen table and turned to the refrigerator. "Marci told me to serve everybody drinks. You have a bottle of Chablis in here. Okay if we have that?"

"Sure!" Sheila replied, "But make Buddy's a Budweiser. There should be some on the bottom shelf."

Betty opened a can of beer and poured the contents into the bowl, which she set on the floor beside the fridge, before opening the wine. Buddy crawled over and, tongue out, lowered his face into the bowl of beer. Betty pored three glasses of wine and set them on a tray to carry into the living room, but Buddy was beginning to whine, having found it nearly impossible to imbibe from the bowl.

Betty turned from the task at hand to attend to the distressed pet, but Sheila said, "Let me, Mom, I'll help him. You go ahead and serve the drinks. I'll be right in."

"What's the matter, Buddy boy?" she said, squatting beside her husband-pet. "Are we having trouble drinking?" She ruffled his hair. Buddy whined and pawed at her. He was sticking his tongue out through the gag and whimpering. "Is that nasty gag in the way?" Sheila asked. "Here, let mommy take it off for you."

He licked her hand and yipped gratefully as she reached toward the buckle at the back of his neck. "Now, Buddy, if I take this off, you have to promise not to talk, okay? Promise?" Buddy yipped again, clearly agreeing, and lowered his head to expose the buckle to Sheila's grasp.

Sheila removed the gag, and Buddy raised his head happily and exuberantly licked Sheila's face, knocking her off balance onto her butt. She laughed as he bounded onto her lap, licking at her face as she tried to restrain him, falling backward and wrestling with him and getting a strong whiff of her mother's pussy juice that remained on his face and in his hair. She managed to - or he let her - get him on his back, exposing his belly and his semi-hard cock.

"Who's mommy's good puppy?" She exclaimed, grasping his cock and giving it a playful tug. He responded by trying to burrow his face into her crotch, which brought a sharp smack on his still exposed cock from Sheila, louder than it was painful, and her admonishment, "Stop that! Go drink your beer."

Buddy was really thirsty. He had sucked toes and licked pussy, and he had been crawling around outside in the brutal heat and humidity. So, it was without further ado that he set his face back into the bowl and started slurping up the cold refreshing brew.

He was, on balance, considerably content at the moment, having enjoyed some pretty far-out sex with his mother-in-law and seeing the possibility of more exploits of the like in this bizarre situation, being both seriously restrained and oddly liberated. He was thrilled with Sheila's response - that his wife would permit such behavior with her own mother was astonishing!

He wondered what was yet in store. Marci had said that she and Betty had something special planned. His cock was hard once again when he finished the twelve ounces, speculating on what that saucy Marci and his lewd mother-in-law might let him do next.

When Buddy finished his beer, he crawled into the living room. He found Marci and Sheila sitting comfortably on the divan together sipping wine, but Betty, having downed her wine quickly, was in the process of obeying Marci's command, "Assume the position."

By the time Buddy had fully entered the room, Betty was down on her knees and elbows, her broad, wrinkled old ass up in the air facing him and her sagging teats hanging loose beneath her in full view of the ladies watching expectantly from the divan.

'Oh boy!' he thought, 'Look at that!' Both of Betty's nether holes were open to his perusal.

And peruse is what he did. 'This is what being a dog is all about,' he thought as he shuffled up to the old lady as fast as he could and began sniffing, first her asshole and then her pussy, then back to her asshole. He couldn't help it. He had to taste.

He licked her ass crack from bottom to top, and again, in broad wet swipes, savoring the salty tang of her sweat and the spice of her anal ring. He could not believe his good fortune - this was an erotic dream come true. He made his tongue sharper, pointier, and homed in on her tight pucker, circling, then probing. Betty's poop-hole began to widen, allowing his probing tongue a smidgen of access.

"Good boy, Buddy!" he heard from Sheila. "That's it! Lick that ass! Open it up with your big doggy tongue!"

He was doing just that: probing deeper, pushing his tongue as deep as he could, encouraging her tight sphincter to relax and open up to his ministrations. In seconds, it was gaping widely and Buddy was able to lick all around the inside walls of her tunnel. His raging boner knew what it wanted before his brain did, and Sheila's inciting suggestion was not to be refused.

"Go ahead, Buddy. Mount her!" Sheila was getting really excited now. "Go on, fuck that bitch, doggy! Fuck her in the ass - I know you've always wanted to!"

Betty was beside herself with lust. The asslicking she was getting was making her pussy drip and the bestial part of her brain - the only part still functioning in this steamy state of submissive arousal - was in pure feral heat.

Buddy mounted Betty like a dog mounts a bitch. He grabbed her around the waist with his front paws and laid his chest up on her back. Hunching his hips, he thrust his man-cock forward. It slid right up along her cleft, just grazing her asshole. Then it slipped down, almost entering the old woman's cunt. He adjusted his posture and kept stabbing at the tight hole with his big mushroom cap, but it kept sliding off, until Betty reached back, grasped the rigid pole, and guided it in to ground zero. It slid in deep on the first thrust.

Buddy and Betty, both dog and bitch, gasped ecstatically, and Buddy began to fuck in earnest, knees firmly planted on the floor, Betty secured tightly in his grasp, his hips thrusting his thick, hard meat in and out of the incredibly silky-tight sleeve of his mother-in-law's rectum. It felt so good! Betty was whimpering in sheer delight, unconsciously bucking back to meet his every thrust, the smack, smack, smack rhythm of their breeding filling the room with its music.

Sheila was in awe watching her husband-pet fucking her mother, literally like an animal. Had she ever been this aroused? Never by just watching. Her underwear couldn't contain the wetness surging from her pussy; it had already soaked through her shorts; she could feel it spreading under her ass on the leather of the divan.

Marci too was rapt. At the moment of consummation, that moment when Buddy's cock drove into Betty's cunt, Marci had grasped Sheila's hand and was holding it tightly. Now as the mating pair settled into a steady fuck-rhythm, she turned to Sheila.

"Are you as turned on as I am?" she asked, and glancing down, she observed the visibly spreading wetness of Sheila's arousal. She leaned in to whisper in Sheila's ear, "You are awesome... the way you're handling Buddy... it's just so... you're a natural." She gave Sheila's hand a squeeze and added, "You love this, don't you?"

Sheila turned her gaze somewhat reluctantly away from the arousing spectacle before them to answer. "You're the awesome one, Marci! This is amazing, and it's all because of you!"

She was gazing into Marci's eyes, her face so close, as she said this. Her eyes dropped to Marci's small, red mouth, her full lips slightly parted. She sighed and breathed deeply, scenting Marci's sweet breath and the mingled aroma of both women's arousal.

Their lips met. A long, lingering kiss. It seemed like the world, the room, the rhythmic slapping of fucking bodies, all faded into the background. Marci's mouth, so warm and sensual, was center stage, in the spotlight, a kiss for the ages. Their tongues touched - fireworks! Marci's right hand - her left was still squeezing Sheila's right hand - caressed the back of her neck, drawing their lips more tightly together.

Sheila hadn't kissed a girl since college and never when she wasn't drunk. Kissing Marci was intoxicating; she felt an overwhelming desire to meld with her, to fuse their whole bodies, not just their mouths. Her hand on Marci's thigh slid right up under her skirt, and Marci shifted, almost imperceptibly, but...