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The Mistress' Dog

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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The Mistress' Dog

Fuzimir had a decided skip in his step as he approached the painted white house set within a spectacular garden. The garden encircled the whole building in colour and roses and pansies splashing fragrance every which way. The appaloosa equine trotted at a brisk clip, his feet bare like they would be for a feral of his own kind; he did not boast hooves. The solid block of his bay coat shone fiercely in the sunlight and he brushed his darker mane back from his neck, arched in delight of the day, the warmth on his coat. He grinned. Oh, it was a fine day indeed!

After all, it was not every day that his mistress let him out of his chastity cage. No, it had been exactly thirty one days and six hours since he had last gotten off. He counted it down to the very moment as he sprang up the garden path, eyes fixed on the oak door awaiting him, black painted detailing depicting a four-legged horse leaning over a half stable door. It reminded him of his time working at a stable yard, though at what work that particular enterprise involved a stranger would be hard pressed to uncover.

The horse nipped his lip as he opened the door, allowing it to swing wide with a creak: the hinges seemed in perpetual need of oiling. He would have to get on that later. The empty downstairs beckoned, coolness radiating from within. He stretched out his head and lipped the air, eager to be out of the heat and into something a little more comfortable.

"Freya?" He called into the spacious hallway, shirt clinging to his back as perspiration soaked through his short coat.

"Upstairs."

The word was sharp, curt, and he pricked his ears, cock growing hard within his boxers. That was her 'mistress' voice. It still made him quiver.

With bated breath, he made his way slowly up the stairs, flanked by smooth, polished banisters, and paused outside the bedroom door, tail flicking restlessly as if to swat away a fly. Nerves, however, were not as easily dissuaded as flies and he could do nothing for them besides to take the plunge. His heart hammered and he swallowed, mouth dry. Even the beauty of Freya's home could not draw his eye on this particular day.

He slipped through a gap wide enough to only fit his body, opening the door the bare minimum required. Smiling faintly, Fuzimir met Freya's eyes, losing himself in their icy depths. The black anthro mare rolled her shoulders so that the blue silk brassiere settled more comfortably over her breasts, accentuated with black thread in the finest, spidery detail. The underwear on her bottom half matched in a like, ocean-blue shade, set off by the glow of health in her coat. Fuzimir's breath caught and he struggled to breathe, lungs sticking in the moment.

Freya was breathtaking.

"Hi Mistress Freya," he mumbled, suddenly abashed.

Letting his forelock fall over his eyes, the stallion snorted softly and slid his gaze away from the stockier mare, her Shetland pony heritage shining through. Her paw instantly cupped his chin and raised his muzzle the fraction required so that she could look him in the eyes; there was little difference in their heights.

"Clothes off."

No introductions? Fuzimir shivered, tail flagging over his rump. The difference between the sweet, caring mare that held him close on a winter's night and this dominant pony with a twinkle in her eye was as different as black and white. Yanking his t-shirt over his head, he dropped the bundle of cloth on the floor, revealing a smooth, lightly muscled back that was still lean from yard work. His jeans, scuffed and torn, met a similar fate, kicked off in a pile of rumpled fabric. Blushing, he slipped his boxers down to join them, their removal showing off his white rump, splashed with brown spots that matched his bay coat. Appaloosa equines were most striking when nude, it had to be said.

The chastity device sat snugly over his soft shaft, lock knocking gently against the heavy duty material, restrictive in its transparency. Freya grinned as it was revealed, a flash of white teeth denoting her mirth. Stepping up to her charge, she kissed him deeply, tongues battling playfully between their muzzles, though it was clear who would win this 'battle', if it could truly be called such. Her breath washed over his muzzle as they broke the kiss, heartbeats racing. Freya tapped his muzzle with one hoofed finger and winked.

"On the bed, pony, I have something special in mind for you."

Trembling from rising excitement rather than nerves, Fuzimir followed direction as ordered, moving on to all fours as he hoped she expected. The position left him nicely exposed, arse raised with his tail falling in a curtain over his tail hole and balls, tucked between his thighs. His cock hung belong his stomach, pointing down towards the bed. The base was creased in memory of an equine sheath that his particular strain of anthro-kind had lost many years ago. If only the chastity device was not in the way.

Freya pushed down on his shoulders, guiding him down to the bed with a gentle but insistent touch. With a skilled touch that only she could master in deftness, she unlocked the chastity 'cage' and slid it from his shaft, allowing him freedom at long last. He sighed and shuddered, cock swelling into the fresh space as she tossed the device aside and kissed his shoulder, fingers trailing down his spine. Yet it was only the first step in the dance. Metal touched his fetlock and Fuzimir flinched away from it. She knelt on the bed behind him, working without express consent from him: the Shetland mare did not need it. Smaller than Fuzimir, he could shove her away if he truly wanted to. He could not imagine ever asking her to stop.

She pulled his ankles apart to encase his fetlocks in metal cuffs, a stiff bar between them to keep his feet safely apart. Freya chuckled as she drew his arms under his body, paws reaching down to the bar until it brushed his fingertips and he felt the edge of another cuff, this time for his paws. True to form, the mare locked the wrist cuffs in place and he wriggled, comfortable yet secure upon the soft mattress and duvet moulding to the curve of his body.

Freya squeezed his rump, muscle and fat compressing under her palm.

"So hard already..." She licked her lips. "I'm sure that chastity device was feeling nice and tight this last week. So...confining."

Fuzimir shuddered, tail flagging as she locked the spreader bar to his fetlocks and wrists, reattaching a small key to the thin silver chain around her neck. Her paws explored his body, silken breasts teasing over his back. The horse shook his head, struggling to remain in touch with reality. It was so easy to lose himself in her embrace.

"It was...mistress," he nickered, rubbing his muzzle into the bed. "I didn't think I was going to make it the full month."

"Hm... Perhaps you can go longer next time."

Cold lubricant oozed on to his tail hole and Freya held his tail out of the way with one arm as she pushed two fingers insistently into his hole, which clenched in an attempt to deny her entrance. She smirked at his fight, though her touch was gentle and soothing as she eased in the two digits up to the knuckle, curling them against the pony's prostate. He gasped and clenched his paws into fists, struggling to contain the sudden burst of pleasure. One month may not seem like a long time on the calendar but it was more than long enough as the days passed.

Freya replaced her fingers with what was expected - they had played together many times before - and a slickened, smooth vibrator eased into his rump, sinking in nearly to the base. She turned it on with a girlish giggle, tail flicking against the bed, and he jumped, moaning into the bed sheets as pleasure shattered through him, a pebble breaking the clear stillness of a lake in the early morn.

Freya clapped a paw to her forehead, eyes wide and innocent.

"Oh!"

She groaned dramatically and he raised his muzzle from the bed, ears pricked.

"I haven't watered the roses yet. And I'm sure there is more weeding to be done. Always more satisfying to tend to one's own garden, is it not? But the tasks must be completed!"

She ran her paw down his back; the pony shivered beneath her touch.

"You will be quite fine here for a short time, will you not?" Freya queried without need. "This will keep you more than occupied, I am sure."

With a final twist to the base of the vibrator, Freya set it to an erratic mode and left the room with a swish of her thick tail. Fuzimir opened his mouth to protest but it was already too late. Freya was gone, singing sweetly to herself as she clip-clopped down the stairs on the edge of her hooves.

Fuzimir stared at the headboard, muscles tense. Though it was a boring view, the pressure beneath his tail kept him attentive and he moaned, arching as if to push himself back on a cock, seeking greater pleasure. It would keep him entertained all right, if not on the edge of orgasm until his sweet mare returned.

The door bumped into the frame, and he craned his head to see who had entered, for it surely was not Freya already. A wagging tail greeted him and a light brown Great Dane reared up to plant his forepaws on the bed, tongue lolling happily. He only wondered for a moment why there was a dog there before recalling that it was the pet Freya was looking after for a friend while she was on holiday. He shook his head, groaning at the continued pulse of the vibrator. It was difficult to think with a toy rammed under his tail.

The dog bumbled around the bed and snuffled his rump, blocky muzzle curious. Irritated, Fuzimir swatted the dog in the face with his tail, but it did nothing to dissuade the curious canine. Mouthing Fuzimir's backside, the Great Dane caught the edge of the vibrator with his lips, rumbling a growl. Fuzimir scowled, back stiffening even as his cock throbbed, drooling pre.

"No, no... Don't do that..." He growled, putting as much threat and dominance into his tone as he could muster. "Stop it. Mistress will be annoyed at you! Hey!"

It was too late: the Great Dane had hold of the toy. Yanking it from the equine's rump with a squelch of lubricant, he tossed it on the duvet where it buzzed mindlessly, an annoying whine. Fuzimir sighed, dropping his muzzle to the duvet, and only hoped that Freya would not be too upset. She would understand. Her friend's dog must be a real menace to pester him so in the bedroom. Later, it would be a funny story. The dog bounded up on to the bed and Fuzimir wriggled, struggling to push him aside. He had enough to think about without a silly dog bothering him. The horse snorted and shook his mane from his neck. Stupid mutt.

A pair of canine legs wrapped around his hips and Fuzimir jerked in shock. Whipping his head around, he gaped at the dog upon his back, feral hips working as if to thrust into a canine bitch. The Great Dane barked and wagged its tail, hunching forward in preparation to mount. His cock bumped into the equine's rump and Fuzimir snapped into action, baring his blunt teeth at the dog as his ears pinned flat to his skull in equine aggression.

"Get off!" He yelled, loud enough to make the dog raise his head dully. "Freya? Freya!"

He screamed but Freya was too far away to hear him, busy in the garden. It was just him and the Great Dane. And the dog had big plans for him.

The slimy member dragged over Fuzimir's thigh and he trembled, cock pulsing out a drop of pre. It should not have aroused him but he had thought of letting one of the yard dogs mount him, just to see how it felt. It was different for morphs. They were all animals, whether they had two legs or four.

Perhaps it would have been different if he had not already been stretched and lubricated with gel, the toy working him up. The Great Dane's cock caught in his pucker and the dog thrust with a low 'woof', spearing into Fuzimir's slick and ready tail hole. Tensing, the equine let out a low groan. There was no pain, only pleasure that somehow made it worse and brought colour to his cheeks at letting a feral that was not even of his own species mount him. It was wrong but inherently right.

The dog scooted his hind paws in closer and thrust wildly, hips moving like a jackhammer. He leaned over Fuzimir, drops of saliva splattering the horse's back as he growled. Unable to clasp Fuzimir's neck in a canine mating bite - he did not have to hold the equine in place anyway, bound as he was - he humped madly, knot soft and waiting to be used. The equine rolled his head against the duvet and hissed between clenched teeth. It was not that the assault was painful by any means: he worried that he was going to cum.

Did it have to feel so good?

Fuzimir jerked his head up and huffed through flared nostrils, eyes painfully wide. No! His mistress would be disappointed! Freya would be annoyed; she didn't put him in chastity so that he could get his rocks off with a dog burying a bone in his arse. Gritting his teeth, Fuzimir struggled to think of anything else to hold himself back as his prostate was ruthlessly and mindlessly pounded with no rest or respite.

His cock twitched, spurting pre cum over the bed every time the dog rammed in. The cock was tapered at the tip, unlike his, and would boast a bulging knot when their copulation was complete. Shuddering, Fuzimir felt familiar need rising, the sensation strange with purely anal stimulation. But no: he was confident he could hold off if he only tried hard enough. He would wait for Freya. He grimaced at the thought of Freya finding him with a four-legged canine breeding him but it was better than wasting his seed.

The dog grunted and worked harder, tail wagging furiously. To him, Fuzimir was nothing other than a bitch in need of a good breeding. If he did not know any better (and, as a feral, he would not know) he would have said that Fuzimir had been left in such a position especially for him. Why, the horse was not even trying to move away or struggle against him! He pounded Fuzimir's tail hole like a demon, slick cock thrusting in to the hilt as his knot slowly began to swell, providing additional resistance. Feral animals were not known for lasting long and Fuzimir groaned, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was soon to follow suit.

The dog thrust in and locked them together before the knot grew too large to handle and Fuzimir pushed his nose into the pillows to muffle his moans as it swelled within his rump, like a butt plug but oh so much better. Huffing, Fuzimir's breath came in harsh pants, lips parted in fear as he struggled against the rising tide, sand sucking at his feet as he strove to flee. Yet it was too late, far too late. The dog grunted and barked, close to climax, balls tightening up to his lower abdomen.

No!

Fuzimir bit his tongue hard enough to make it bleed as he ejaculated, painting the sheets beneath his stomach with creamy white cum. His hips jerked of their own accord, thrusting mindlessly, and he pushed back into the dog, body begging for pleasure denied. His form trembled and he yawned for breath, dragging it into his lungs with sucking gasps. His head spun and he was only barely conscious of the canine hammering into him, still not done with his rump and breeding hole. Barking and yelping as if he was the one being fucked, the Great Dane jerked in orgasm, spilling cum in thick ropes into the equine's backside.

Hissing quietly so as not to attract Freya's attention at this late stage, Fuzimir gulped as he was filled, the scent of dog seed potent in the stale air of the bedroom. It was obvious what they had been doing, what he had done. Though it was hardly his fault that the canine had taken it upon himself to mount him.

Turning so that he stood rump to rump with the equine, the dog looked at Fuzimir over his shoulder, tongue lolling from his muzzle as if in a laugh. The equine groaned and hid his muzzle, shame clouding his senses.

They stayed like that for some period of time, Fuzimir's mind racing to find any reason to explain his orgasm other than what had actually happened, but no answer was forthcoming. The dog wriggled and scrabbled at the edge of the bed, tugging the equine this way and that in his impatience to be elsewhere. Of course, he could not move until his knot softened and, as soon as it did, he leapt from the bed, racing through the open door with a satisfied bark. Fuzimir's hole winked like the pussy of a mare in heat, squeezing in so that little to no cum leaked out. He was tight and inexperienced with most anal, so his pucker was only too eager to restore its natural state. To the casual eye, the dribble of dog cum oozing from under his tail could have been lubricant. His heart leapt. Maybe it would not be so bad.

Now, how would he explain his orgasm to Freya?

"Well... I see you had fun."

Freya stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a disappointed tilt to her muzzle. Fuzimir shook his head and opened his mouth to explain - even if he did not yet know the explanation he would give - but she held up her paw, staying further words.

"I guess there's not much more we can do today then. We'll have to try again another time."

She removed the key from the chain around her neck and gave Fuzimir a smile to show that she was not too mad, even if it would have been better another way. The equine dropped his muzzle to the bed, swallowing hard as he wondered if this was, in fact, the easy way out of a difficult discussion. Perhaps that was a talk for a later date.

"Come on, let's get you dressed, hm, love?"

*

"Here boy."

Freya lay nude on the sofa with her legs curled up and tucked to the side, reading a worn novel with a glass of red wine on the coffee table beside her. The lights were dimmed and only her reading lamp offered illumination to the room, just enough so that she could see the text on the page.

The Great Dane bounded up, legs flying, and snuffled over her leg, nosing between her thighs. She started and murred, muzzle falling back as his tongue swiped her clit, his keenness infectious. The embers of pleasure called and she sipped the last of her wine, setting the book aside. Books could be read at later dates.

Casting the bedroom above her head a knowing grin, she rose fluidly to her hooves and led the pet upstairs, tail swishing merrily as he followed, close upon her heels.
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