"I am a puppy, I will be trained to be a dog. I am an animal, for all of my days. I live only to serve and please my Master." Over and over in my head, my silent mantra, the guideline of my life, reaffirmation of what I truly was inside. An animal wrapped in a woman's flesh, both and neither, a puppy-girl that longed to lick and howl and roll at a Master's feet.
I had a dream once, that was as thrilling as it was scary, product of too much imagination and raging hormones, I suppose. I recall it well, and still shiver sometimes, wondering. Will this ever happen to me? Will I ever be brave enough to truly seek my dreams and find myself at last?
I saw myself in a cage, a choke chain around my neck, padlocked to the cool wire exterior so that I was unable to move. A rough voice I barely recognize as my own was whispering, "I am a dog, a vicious wanton animal, begging to lick my Master's boots as I come."
The bars of the cage were so cold, harsh under my knees, the basement surrounding me empty and dark. My entire world was focused with obsession and the senses; the chain around my neck, the bite of metal against my skin, my hoarse voice hissing my low role in life. And then I stop talking, stop thinking, sinking within myself until I feel like a real dog.
I don't seem human anymore, my thoughts and feelings changing to reflect my inner nature. I pant. I lay down with my head on hands that seem like real paws. I truly am a puppy-girl now, and while a part of me is afraid of this transformation, another rejoices at my new freedom.
Unseen shadows fill a large bowl with water, gliding it into the feedslot of my cage. I pant and move to drink, lapping eagerly, eyes rolled up to look for my Master. I cannot see him, smell him, hear him at all. I whimper, pained at his absence. I drink my fill and lay back down, whining and waiting for him to bring light to my world.
Finally I can hear him, smell him. The clomp of his boots on the floor, the heady mist of his aftershave, harbingers of his presence send me into raptures. I am on all fours, lifting a paw, batting at the cage door, yipping for his attention. He moves out of shadow and I start drooling, a needy beast before his magnificence.
Master is so handsome! Tall and well tanned, dressed smartly in black over a creamy pullover. The suit jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders, the powerful chest, while the slacks hug his muscular thighs like a naughty dream. He watches me with his stern black eyes, idly tapping a crop against his palm, as though I had been bad.
I whine, lolling my tongue, begging to polish his boots with my lowly self, to show him how much I adore him. I butt my head against the cage door, wanting him to stroke me, to show me any attention at all. He is my world, my sole reason for existing. Master!
Yet he simply watches, slowly tapping the crop. Slap. Slap. And my clit begins to twitch, my body tightening with anticipation. Oh, strike me Master. Anything but leave me! Master!
The crop is suddenly a whip, which Master cracks loudly beside my cage, making me yip in fear and surprise. It cracks again, a living extension of his will, dancing across the bars to sting my face. My body wants to jump back but I force myself still. I want Master's touch, however it may come, and so I simply cry. Please Master.
The whip is suddenly gone, and Master moves, a powerful shadow in this basement, this world where only he commands. He is so much more than my lowly self, and I am overjoyed that he notices me at all. Heaven is his attention, to be his well heeled dog my only dream. I am a mere collection of skin and wishes before him, shaking with excitement as he moves. He releases the padlock on my chain lead, unlocking my cage and giving a tug that is my permission to move and crawl towards him.
He points to the floor before his feet, and I sit, staring up at him, awaiting his command with joy. He keeps firm grasp of the chain, and I know that at any moment he can give a mighty pull, near strangling me. I quiver at the possibility. He could bring back the crop, or whip, and make my skin dance. I am his. I pant and wait. I am controlled and so content.
He places a hand before my muzzle and I lick and snuffle his fingers, worshipping his palm with my mouth, tasting his skin and hand lotion. I cover him with doggy kisses, so grateful to touch, to have his notice, his regard in this way. Thank you, Master. Oh, thank you.
He withdraws his hand and then tugs the chain, the collar growing tighter around my neck. I follow him eagerly, panting and excited, staring dreamily at his boots. His very shiny boots, good leather, well cared for. If I am a very good puppy, then I can lick his boots. My body tingles with joy.
I follow Master on hands and knees, crawling happily down a dark hall, then into a room where candles burn, where bleachers are filled on all sides with people. I can hear and smell them but not really see. Mutterings, shuffling feet, perfumes and colognes, whispered conversations, and the whimpers of other dogs.
I raise up a bit, wanting to bare my teeth. I can smell those dogs. I don't like them. I crawl and wiggle my hips to my best ability. I am a better dog than they could ever be, and Master will see this.
There is a podium before us, where a dozen men and their leashed dogs stand. The dogs are all looking at me. I want to growl at them, but know I shouldn't. There is something about these dogs, something that is different. They are wearing real collars, fine leather with shining studs and gemstones, clasped to leashes of braided leather held firmly in their Master's hands. They are real dogs, trained and graduated, where I am still a puppy. They are the pampered pets that I would strive to be.
Master drew me towards them, tugging the chain so that I would present myself, turning a full circle and moving as prettily as I could. Master padlocked the chain to a ring set in the floor and stepped away from me.
I knelt, frightened now, wondering what would become of me. Surely Master would not give me away? I was a good puppy-girl. I was going to be a good dog, a great dog. I knew I could!
Master spoke to the other Masters in a strong voice, deep and powerful. "Tonight we have a new mutt before us, a sluttish pup that thinks it is a dog. It wants formal training, to become a useful slave. It strives for the rules of the dog-slave, governing its behavior to be the pup, and one day the prized bitch. Shall we grant this arrogant beast a trial? Shall we judge for ourselves if this pup has what it takes to make best use of training and one day grant a man his pleasure?"
The Master's converse while I quake with terror. A trial? What had I done? How had I displeased Master? Had I been too loud, not loud enough, not licked well enough? Help me, Master! I don't understand.
Another Master pointed at me and I whined. "We shall put it to the test, and see if it has learned the most important aspects of being a dog-slave."
Master turned back to me and made a rolling motion with his hand. I roll instantly onto my back, my paws tucked up against my breasts, panting and trying to lick. He walks towards me and lifts his right foot, bringing his boot to my face, and I yip with pleasure, licking wildly. The taste of leather and polish, the rough sole over my tongue, and then the smooth shiny toe.
I am in raptures, my nipples hard and tight, my eyes on Master's face, begging to please him. I lick and lave all over his boot, this slave service bringing moisture between my thighs. I would do anything to please him, and the more he asked of me, the more I wanted. I was a good dog. I would be the best dog.
Master withdraws his boot and I whine, bereft, wanting to follow him with my mouth, but staying still. He motions me to rise to all fours again, commanding me to silence. I pant and want to beg, to plead that he come back. I needed to please him so much that to be left alone was misery.
One of the Masters stepped down from the podium, bringing his dog with him, leading it towards me. I watch the dog with fear, as it is not friendly. It growls low, hackles raised, and snaps at me. I want to bolt but am still chained. I tug back, near choking myself, and Master commands me to stay. I become still, panting now in fear, wheezing at how tightly I've drawn the choke chain.
The dog crept towards me, moving as a goddess among dogs, displaying that she had earned the right to be a real dog, while I was the lowest pup in the world. She terrified me. She was hard and sleek and beautiful, so graceful, as though her leash was an extension of her skin, and she an extension of the Master she artfully paced. They were as one, and I was not worthy to crawl before them.
She growled again, moving closer, padding around to my bottom and sniffing. I want to whimper, shaking, cowering before her. I do whine as she tries to mount me, frightened beyond any control. My Master gives a sharp tug on my chain, pulling me out from under the other dog, and I fall to his boots, licking and whimpering gratefully, gladly abasing myself before him. Master.
He allows me the great joy of lavishing his boots with my mouth before tugging my chain again, bringing me to attention beside him.
He speaks again with that rolling voice I so adored. "It has passed the initial test."
The other Masters, and the faceless crowd, all voice their assent. "It passed the first test."
Master continued. "It submitted before all to a Master, and to another dog-slave, without evincing human behavior. It recalled its canine nature despite provocation, submitting in fear to a better dog. I propose we allow it to truly begin the journey, on trainee basis, and allow it to think of itself as a puppy-slave, one that may become a dog-slave if it is found worthy."
The other Masters agreed, one by one leading their dogs past me, to sniff my rear as they leave the room. The crowd is suddenly gone, leaving me quivering before My Master. He holds the crop again, and I shiver with anticipation. He pulls on the chain, cutting off my breath while pulling me up like a good begging pup. I pant frantically, waving my paws.
"Stay."
He drops my chain, and I can breathe a little. I remain sitting up, whining a bit, afraid of what might happen next, but excited at the same time. Master flicks the crop across my chest, leaving a stinging line over my breasts, and I whine. He quickly slaps each cheek, a harder sting that warns me to silence.
Master slowly circles me, flicking the crop over my skin, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard enough to make me gasp, then harder for the sound I made. I pant. I want to moan.
He lays the crop hard across my backside and I shudder, growing wetter. Master spanks me thoroughly, raising welts on my tender rear, making me quiver at the tingling between my legs. I want to lick him. I want so much to please him. I stay as still as I can.
Master moves in front of me again, drawing the crop across my jaw, down between my breasts, over my belly, then flicks it against my swollen clit. I shudder, pleasure flooding through me, lust gushing my lower lips. I want so much to cum.
Master is holding a collar now, metal with a padlock. He removes my choke-collar, and snaps the new one heavily around my neck. It is so cold. Master locks it and tosses the key carelessly away.
"Let this remind you. You are a slave, a puppy-girl in training, and until you deserve the privilege of a better collar, you shall remain locked in this one. If you strive and serve and learn well enough, you will be brought back here, to search for the key. When you bring it your mouth, you will be given a new collar, and branded as a fit dog-slave. Until then, you have no name, and are just a mutt before your betters. Remember this."
Master attached a rope leash to the ring in the front of the collar, looking down at me. I had not moved, though I shivered at his speech. I wanted so much to be a dog-slave, to have a fine collar and live at my Master's whim, always ready to serve him.
I was sure I would prove myself, no matter what he asked of me, no matter what I must do. I would have a fine studded collar. I would one day sit before my Master, looking at some cowering pup that wanted to grow to be a dog. I would be the one performing in the test for a new mutt. There would be no dog better.
"You will live on all fours," Master continued, "And do all things in the manner of a dog. You will be trained in all doggy arts, made a proper slave to lick and bark and beg. If you do well, and are returned to this hall, and find your key to gain a new collar, you will be branded as property, never again to be anything but a dog-slave, and serve me as I desire in all things."
He held the crop again, and lay a swat across my nipples, then down across my dripping thighs. I shivered, biting a moan, fighting only to pant as befit a dog.
"Down now, slave, and show yourself to me," He commanded.
I bowed down at once, spreading my knees wide apart and thrusting my hips up high, presenting my ass and swollen pussy for his inspection. He patted my stinging cheeks, then lay the crop again, swatting both cheeks while I shuddered until my flesh was quite warm and red.
He moved the crop lower, between my sex lips and I felt dizzy, arousal like a fire burning out of control, heaving my body with the need to release. He teased with the crop, tapping my aching clit, tormenting my screaming flesh. I must come. Please Master, let me come.
The crop keeps moving, the tip deft between my thighs, so sloppy wet. He probes my throbbing sex, teasing my lips further and further apart, then up over my ass, tapping the rosy nub, making me quiver and bite my lip not to cry out for the pleasure of it.
"Amuse me, mutt. Show me the obedience of a puppy-girl. Cum now at your Master's feet."
I almost cry for joy, falling and rolling to my back, spreading my legs wide and attacking my sopping pussy lips, shamelessly masturbating before my Master, rubbing my swollen flesh in urgent need. Master presses the toe of his boot against my pussy, poking and churning my lust, making me even hotter as he stares down at me, in complete command of my body. I pant and moan, unable to help myself, feeling a bitch in heat and thrusting against his foot, fucking myself with his wonderful boot.
"Now cum, dog. Beg."
I whine and beg and rub furiously, bucking onto his boot and crying, heat flooding through my hips, shaking my jerking thighs so hard, drawing a scream as orgasm spasms my body in a series of tingles that spill out of me and rock my body against Master's boot. I sigh, shuddering beneath him, and am complete.
Master withdraws his boot, making me shiver, whining at the absence of him so snug between my legs. I cried, begging and whining, empty and cold.
"Now slave, clean my boots."
I yipped, crawling up happily and falling on the first boot, the toe slick with my juices. I licked and sucked and moaned, tasting myself like fine wine, hot yet creamy and making me horny all over again. I laved his boot with my tongue, loving the shiny leather that tasted of lusting woman, of eager wanton bitch.
I lapped and lapped, polishing the leather with devotion, then moved to the other, licking the boot until it gleamed. I nuzzled my adoration onto his feet and was so very grateful he allowed me this task. Thank you, Master.
"Up on your knees again, mutt. Display yourself."
I moved eagerly, panting excitement, still so wet and ready. Anticipation hummed along my skin as I thrust proudly, showing my needy pussy to best advantage.
Master moved behind me, again stroking the crop between my legs, teasing it over my ass, flicking my sensitive skin. "Now is the time you earn your tail, dog-slave."
I quivered, shaking with excitement, swallowing a moan as something cool and smooth was drawn over my pussy, rolling softly to coat itself in my juices. Master teased me mercilessly, sliding the phallic shape up and over, prodding my flesh, slipping inside my burning slit, then upwards to taunt my tight rosebud.
I knew what it was, as Master had shown me before, and I yipped anxiously as the six-inch plug with its bushy tail was worked slowly into my ass. I moaned, clit twitching with ecstasy, as Master filled me with this mark of my becoming a real dog. Master slid the plug in snugly, my tight body accommodating my new tail with excitement. I wanted to come again.
Master stood, brushing off his hands with a pleased sound. "Now crawl."
I lifted my head proudly, moving as smartly as I could, swinging my hips to wag my tail and show how pleased I was, how loving and grateful to my Master.
"Now heel, pup."
I move quickly beside my Master, sitting proudly, noting the bulge in his slacks and salivating. I was pleasing Master! My heart sang with it. I wanted to tip back my head and howl. Master tugged my leash and walked me around the hall, as though we made our own parade, and I could see that we were being watched. Crowds of people stood and clapped, and I crawled my very best, wagging my tail for all of them. Master led me through my paces: sit, beg, roll over. I was a very good dog. The crowd applauded. And then I woke up.
Part of me was so embarrassed, flushed with arousal and humiliation. I was soaking wet, my pussy lips throbbing, and I had to make myself cum. I replayed my dream in my mind, but this time, the people didn't leave. This time, I rolled on my back and fucked myself in front of them. They yelled and clapped when I came.
I had a dream once, that was as thrilling as it was scary, product of too much imagination and raging hormones, I suppose. I recall it well, and still shiver sometimes, wondering. Will this ever happen to me? Will I ever be brave enough to truly seek my dreams and find myself at last?
I saw myself in a cage, a choke chain around my neck, padlocked to the cool wire exterior so that I was unable to move. A rough voice I barely recognize as my own was whispering, "I am a dog, a vicious wanton animal, begging to lick my Master's boots as I come."
The bars of the cage were so cold, harsh under my knees, the basement surrounding me empty and dark. My entire world was focused with obsession and the senses; the chain around my neck, the bite of metal against my skin, my hoarse voice hissing my low role in life. And then I stop talking, stop thinking, sinking within myself until I feel like a real dog.
I don't seem human anymore, my thoughts and feelings changing to reflect my inner nature. I pant. I lay down with my head on hands that seem like real paws. I truly am a puppy-girl now, and while a part of me is afraid of this transformation, another rejoices at my new freedom.
Unseen shadows fill a large bowl with water, gliding it into the feedslot of my cage. I pant and move to drink, lapping eagerly, eyes rolled up to look for my Master. I cannot see him, smell him, hear him at all. I whimper, pained at his absence. I drink my fill and lay back down, whining and waiting for him to bring light to my world.
Finally I can hear him, smell him. The clomp of his boots on the floor, the heady mist of his aftershave, harbingers of his presence send me into raptures. I am on all fours, lifting a paw, batting at the cage door, yipping for his attention. He moves out of shadow and I start drooling, a needy beast before his magnificence.
Master is so handsome! Tall and well tanned, dressed smartly in black over a creamy pullover. The suit jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders, the powerful chest, while the slacks hug his muscular thighs like a naughty dream. He watches me with his stern black eyes, idly tapping a crop against his palm, as though I had been bad.
I whine, lolling my tongue, begging to polish his boots with my lowly self, to show him how much I adore him. I butt my head against the cage door, wanting him to stroke me, to show me any attention at all. He is my world, my sole reason for existing. Master!
Yet he simply watches, slowly tapping the crop. Slap. Slap. And my clit begins to twitch, my body tightening with anticipation. Oh, strike me Master. Anything but leave me! Master!
The crop is suddenly a whip, which Master cracks loudly beside my cage, making me yip in fear and surprise. It cracks again, a living extension of his will, dancing across the bars to sting my face. My body wants to jump back but I force myself still. I want Master's touch, however it may come, and so I simply cry. Please Master.
The whip is suddenly gone, and Master moves, a powerful shadow in this basement, this world where only he commands. He is so much more than my lowly self, and I am overjoyed that he notices me at all. Heaven is his attention, to be his well heeled dog my only dream. I am a mere collection of skin and wishes before him, shaking with excitement as he moves. He releases the padlock on my chain lead, unlocking my cage and giving a tug that is my permission to move and crawl towards him.
He points to the floor before his feet, and I sit, staring up at him, awaiting his command with joy. He keeps firm grasp of the chain, and I know that at any moment he can give a mighty pull, near strangling me. I quiver at the possibility. He could bring back the crop, or whip, and make my skin dance. I am his. I pant and wait. I am controlled and so content.
He places a hand before my muzzle and I lick and snuffle his fingers, worshipping his palm with my mouth, tasting his skin and hand lotion. I cover him with doggy kisses, so grateful to touch, to have his notice, his regard in this way. Thank you, Master. Oh, thank you.
He withdraws his hand and then tugs the chain, the collar growing tighter around my neck. I follow him eagerly, panting and excited, staring dreamily at his boots. His very shiny boots, good leather, well cared for. If I am a very good puppy, then I can lick his boots. My body tingles with joy.
I follow Master on hands and knees, crawling happily down a dark hall, then into a room where candles burn, where bleachers are filled on all sides with people. I can hear and smell them but not really see. Mutterings, shuffling feet, perfumes and colognes, whispered conversations, and the whimpers of other dogs.
I raise up a bit, wanting to bare my teeth. I can smell those dogs. I don't like them. I crawl and wiggle my hips to my best ability. I am a better dog than they could ever be, and Master will see this.
There is a podium before us, where a dozen men and their leashed dogs stand. The dogs are all looking at me. I want to growl at them, but know I shouldn't. There is something about these dogs, something that is different. They are wearing real collars, fine leather with shining studs and gemstones, clasped to leashes of braided leather held firmly in their Master's hands. They are real dogs, trained and graduated, where I am still a puppy. They are the pampered pets that I would strive to be.
Master drew me towards them, tugging the chain so that I would present myself, turning a full circle and moving as prettily as I could. Master padlocked the chain to a ring set in the floor and stepped away from me.
I knelt, frightened now, wondering what would become of me. Surely Master would not give me away? I was a good puppy-girl. I was going to be a good dog, a great dog. I knew I could!
Master spoke to the other Masters in a strong voice, deep and powerful. "Tonight we have a new mutt before us, a sluttish pup that thinks it is a dog. It wants formal training, to become a useful slave. It strives for the rules of the dog-slave, governing its behavior to be the pup, and one day the prized bitch. Shall we grant this arrogant beast a trial? Shall we judge for ourselves if this pup has what it takes to make best use of training and one day grant a man his pleasure?"
The Master's converse while I quake with terror. A trial? What had I done? How had I displeased Master? Had I been too loud, not loud enough, not licked well enough? Help me, Master! I don't understand.
Another Master pointed at me and I whined. "We shall put it to the test, and see if it has learned the most important aspects of being a dog-slave."
Master turned back to me and made a rolling motion with his hand. I roll instantly onto my back, my paws tucked up against my breasts, panting and trying to lick. He walks towards me and lifts his right foot, bringing his boot to my face, and I yip with pleasure, licking wildly. The taste of leather and polish, the rough sole over my tongue, and then the smooth shiny toe.
I am in raptures, my nipples hard and tight, my eyes on Master's face, begging to please him. I lick and lave all over his boot, this slave service bringing moisture between my thighs. I would do anything to please him, and the more he asked of me, the more I wanted. I was a good dog. I would be the best dog.
Master withdraws his boot and I whine, bereft, wanting to follow him with my mouth, but staying still. He motions me to rise to all fours again, commanding me to silence. I pant and want to beg, to plead that he come back. I needed to please him so much that to be left alone was misery.
One of the Masters stepped down from the podium, bringing his dog with him, leading it towards me. I watch the dog with fear, as it is not friendly. It growls low, hackles raised, and snaps at me. I want to bolt but am still chained. I tug back, near choking myself, and Master commands me to stay. I become still, panting now in fear, wheezing at how tightly I've drawn the choke chain.
The dog crept towards me, moving as a goddess among dogs, displaying that she had earned the right to be a real dog, while I was the lowest pup in the world. She terrified me. She was hard and sleek and beautiful, so graceful, as though her leash was an extension of her skin, and she an extension of the Master she artfully paced. They were as one, and I was not worthy to crawl before them.
She growled again, moving closer, padding around to my bottom and sniffing. I want to whimper, shaking, cowering before her. I do whine as she tries to mount me, frightened beyond any control. My Master gives a sharp tug on my chain, pulling me out from under the other dog, and I fall to his boots, licking and whimpering gratefully, gladly abasing myself before him. Master.
He allows me the great joy of lavishing his boots with my mouth before tugging my chain again, bringing me to attention beside him.
He speaks again with that rolling voice I so adored. "It has passed the initial test."
The other Masters, and the faceless crowd, all voice their assent. "It passed the first test."
Master continued. "It submitted before all to a Master, and to another dog-slave, without evincing human behavior. It recalled its canine nature despite provocation, submitting in fear to a better dog. I propose we allow it to truly begin the journey, on trainee basis, and allow it to think of itself as a puppy-slave, one that may become a dog-slave if it is found worthy."
The other Masters agreed, one by one leading their dogs past me, to sniff my rear as they leave the room. The crowd is suddenly gone, leaving me quivering before My Master. He holds the crop again, and I shiver with anticipation. He pulls on the chain, cutting off my breath while pulling me up like a good begging pup. I pant frantically, waving my paws.
"Stay."
He drops my chain, and I can breathe a little. I remain sitting up, whining a bit, afraid of what might happen next, but excited at the same time. Master flicks the crop across my chest, leaving a stinging line over my breasts, and I whine. He quickly slaps each cheek, a harder sting that warns me to silence.
Master slowly circles me, flicking the crop over my skin, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard enough to make me gasp, then harder for the sound I made. I pant. I want to moan.
He lays the crop hard across my backside and I shudder, growing wetter. Master spanks me thoroughly, raising welts on my tender rear, making me quiver at the tingling between my legs. I want to lick him. I want so much to please him. I stay as still as I can.
Master moves in front of me again, drawing the crop across my jaw, down between my breasts, over my belly, then flicks it against my swollen clit. I shudder, pleasure flooding through me, lust gushing my lower lips. I want so much to cum.
Master is holding a collar now, metal with a padlock. He removes my choke-collar, and snaps the new one heavily around my neck. It is so cold. Master locks it and tosses the key carelessly away.
"Let this remind you. You are a slave, a puppy-girl in training, and until you deserve the privilege of a better collar, you shall remain locked in this one. If you strive and serve and learn well enough, you will be brought back here, to search for the key. When you bring it your mouth, you will be given a new collar, and branded as a fit dog-slave. Until then, you have no name, and are just a mutt before your betters. Remember this."
Master attached a rope leash to the ring in the front of the collar, looking down at me. I had not moved, though I shivered at his speech. I wanted so much to be a dog-slave, to have a fine collar and live at my Master's whim, always ready to serve him.
I was sure I would prove myself, no matter what he asked of me, no matter what I must do. I would have a fine studded collar. I would one day sit before my Master, looking at some cowering pup that wanted to grow to be a dog. I would be the one performing in the test for a new mutt. There would be no dog better.
"You will live on all fours," Master continued, "And do all things in the manner of a dog. You will be trained in all doggy arts, made a proper slave to lick and bark and beg. If you do well, and are returned to this hall, and find your key to gain a new collar, you will be branded as property, never again to be anything but a dog-slave, and serve me as I desire in all things."
He held the crop again, and lay a swat across my nipples, then down across my dripping thighs. I shivered, biting a moan, fighting only to pant as befit a dog.
"Down now, slave, and show yourself to me," He commanded.
I bowed down at once, spreading my knees wide apart and thrusting my hips up high, presenting my ass and swollen pussy for his inspection. He patted my stinging cheeks, then lay the crop again, swatting both cheeks while I shuddered until my flesh was quite warm and red.
He moved the crop lower, between my sex lips and I felt dizzy, arousal like a fire burning out of control, heaving my body with the need to release. He teased with the crop, tapping my aching clit, tormenting my screaming flesh. I must come. Please Master, let me come.
The crop keeps moving, the tip deft between my thighs, so sloppy wet. He probes my throbbing sex, teasing my lips further and further apart, then up over my ass, tapping the rosy nub, making me quiver and bite my lip not to cry out for the pleasure of it.
"Amuse me, mutt. Show me the obedience of a puppy-girl. Cum now at your Master's feet."
I almost cry for joy, falling and rolling to my back, spreading my legs wide and attacking my sopping pussy lips, shamelessly masturbating before my Master, rubbing my swollen flesh in urgent need. Master presses the toe of his boot against my pussy, poking and churning my lust, making me even hotter as he stares down at me, in complete command of my body. I pant and moan, unable to help myself, feeling a bitch in heat and thrusting against his foot, fucking myself with his wonderful boot.
"Now cum, dog. Beg."
I whine and beg and rub furiously, bucking onto his boot and crying, heat flooding through my hips, shaking my jerking thighs so hard, drawing a scream as orgasm spasms my body in a series of tingles that spill out of me and rock my body against Master's boot. I sigh, shuddering beneath him, and am complete.
Master withdraws his boot, making me shiver, whining at the absence of him so snug between my legs. I cried, begging and whining, empty and cold.
"Now slave, clean my boots."
I yipped, crawling up happily and falling on the first boot, the toe slick with my juices. I licked and sucked and moaned, tasting myself like fine wine, hot yet creamy and making me horny all over again. I laved his boot with my tongue, loving the shiny leather that tasted of lusting woman, of eager wanton bitch.
I lapped and lapped, polishing the leather with devotion, then moved to the other, licking the boot until it gleamed. I nuzzled my adoration onto his feet and was so very grateful he allowed me this task. Thank you, Master.
"Up on your knees again, mutt. Display yourself."
I moved eagerly, panting excitement, still so wet and ready. Anticipation hummed along my skin as I thrust proudly, showing my needy pussy to best advantage.
Master moved behind me, again stroking the crop between my legs, teasing it over my ass, flicking my sensitive skin. "Now is the time you earn your tail, dog-slave."
I quivered, shaking with excitement, swallowing a moan as something cool and smooth was drawn over my pussy, rolling softly to coat itself in my juices. Master teased me mercilessly, sliding the phallic shape up and over, prodding my flesh, slipping inside my burning slit, then upwards to taunt my tight rosebud.
I knew what it was, as Master had shown me before, and I yipped anxiously as the six-inch plug with its bushy tail was worked slowly into my ass. I moaned, clit twitching with ecstasy, as Master filled me with this mark of my becoming a real dog. Master slid the plug in snugly, my tight body accommodating my new tail with excitement. I wanted to come again.
Master stood, brushing off his hands with a pleased sound. "Now crawl."
I lifted my head proudly, moving as smartly as I could, swinging my hips to wag my tail and show how pleased I was, how loving and grateful to my Master.
"Now heel, pup."
I move quickly beside my Master, sitting proudly, noting the bulge in his slacks and salivating. I was pleasing Master! My heart sang with it. I wanted to tip back my head and howl. Master tugged my leash and walked me around the hall, as though we made our own parade, and I could see that we were being watched. Crowds of people stood and clapped, and I crawled my very best, wagging my tail for all of them. Master led me through my paces: sit, beg, roll over. I was a very good dog. The crowd applauded. And then I woke up.
Part of me was so embarrassed, flushed with arousal and humiliation. I was soaking wet, my pussy lips throbbing, and I had to make myself cum. I replayed my dream in my mind, but this time, the people didn't leave. This time, I rolled on my back and fucked myself in front of them. They yelled and clapped when I came.