Written for me by my beloved ed cantor. The assignment was to share with me his own Puppy Play fantasy, but he seems to have worked in many of my favorite elements: tease & denial, panties, chastity, foot worship... ;-)
*
Pet
They were miles away from each other, but a heat linked them as they spoke. She was reclining in her bed, ready to drift to sleep. He was kneeling beside his, a position she enjoyed knowing he held for her.
“You know,” she purred, “I think I’d like a pet.”
“Really?” he asked. It seemed like a bit of departure from their previous conversation. “Do you think you’d like a dog or a cat or something? I don’t see you as a fish kind of person.”
“Actually,” she mused, “that’s not really what I’m thinking. I want the best parts of all those pets. I like the loyalty and service of dogs. I like the way a kitten might purr and be fun to play with. Hell, I even like how pretty fish are to look at, but you’re right – I want a pet I can play with.”
He smiled silently, his lips moving against the phone. “Well, it sounds like you know what you want. Now how are you going to get all this in one pet?”
“Silly boy. I’m going to get it the same way I always do: you’re going to give it to me.”
“Oh?” He was suddenly worried about how he was going to solve this particular puzzle to her liking.
“Yes indeed. The pet I want is you, and you’re going to be the pet I want. Now, you may do your edging – no cumming tonight, sleep in something pink for me, and tomorrow I’ll send you something to get you started. Good night, pet.”
He was still in shock when he spoke his good night, expressing his devotion, love and thanks.
It took him a while to get to sleep, and not just because of the physical throbbing that was the result of his edging and denial. His mind just raced, trying to imagine her intentions and plans, all while knowing the effort was futile. He was never able to guess at the details of her wonderful wickedness.
Finally, his mind swirling with possibilities, his body clad in nothing but panties of pink lace trimmed in ribbon, he drifted into a restless sleep.
He woke earlier than he would have liked, but it seemed like it would be a beautiful day outside, so he opted for a positive outlook. Before he completed his breakfast, an email from his Mistress arrived.
“Edward, the first thing a pet needs is a collar, a leash and a name tag. You will go to a pet store today - immediately - and purchase those items. The collar should be leather, with buckles for adjusting size and steel rings for the leash. You will hold it up to your neck at least once in the store, to test for fit. The leash should have a clip for your collar and a leather lead for me to hold. The tag should be engraved, stating that you are my property, but we will leave a blank space for your pet name, for now. I will expect you to have all these things by noon. Enjoy your shopping!”
He wasted no time in finishing up his food, cleaning it away and getting himself ready for the errand. His mind worked on him more than reality might have dictated, but then, it always did. He was deliciously humiliated, holding the collar up, wrapping it around his neck, even though he’d spent at least ten minutes circling around, making sure they was no one nearby in the nearly deserted store. The experience of the nametag was similar. He had to pay in advance, but then he was on his own at a large pseudo-vending machine. He kept a close eye over his shoulder, but no one saw him enter “Property of Mistress” via the touch screen.
Heading home on time, his purchases in the large plastic bag, he was gleeful, thrilled, and hard as a rock.
...
The next morning, as he walked up to her door, at the time he had been instructed to, just a day later, his mind was buzzing. His collar, still unworn, was the only item in the plain brown paper bag he carried. All that he’d been allowed to carry in his pockets were the key to his home and enough exact change to get him on transit. His only remaining preparation, detailed in another email that had been waiting for him at home, had been to make sure that all of his hair was trimmed. He’d started with a trip back out for a haircut and shave and then taken care of the rest himself at home, working nervously with scissors while standing in the bathtub.
It felt very strange, walking up her street -- a street he’d only ever driven on before. There weren’t even sidewalks, and he felt very much on display -- like the neighbours were likely to call the police to report an unusual stranger. He didn’t even have ID on him - just a dog collar that would only inspire more questions.
But finally he was there. He knocked on the door after a deep breath. Mistress was there quickly, an eager and loving smile on her face.
“Oh Edward, I’m so glad you are here on time. I’d have hated to start off with punishment. Come, step inside the door.”
He stepped in and then waited.
She came in around him and faced him.
“Edward -- and this is the last time for quite a while you will be called Edward -- this experience is going to be different for us. Especially for you. Are you ready to be my pet?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he answered, his lips dryly sticking together.
She reached into the paper bag. “Do you accept this collar as a symbol of your status before me and of my ownership of you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do you understand that you are to be a pet? Not a slave. Not a servant. A pet. MY pet. Mine to do with what I please.”
“Yes Mistress, I understand.”
“Excellent, pet. Strip.”
Wordlessly, without hesitation or second thought, he peeled off his clothes. The simple tan khakis, button down white oxford shirt, black boxers, white socks and Vans sneakers were all placed in turn in the black bag she held out as she watched, smiling and proud. In moments he stood before her, bare.
“Legs spread. Hands behind your back. Lean forward.”
He complied, feeling the blush of his nakedness and her clear control, not to mention his growing stiffness.
Her fingers traced his neck, then they guided the leather of the collar against his flesh. “With this collar, I make you mine. I accept your offer and I take you. You are mine. You are my pet.” He could hear her enjoyment in her words. “You may kneel now.”
He wondered, in that split second, if he should reply in agreement or thanks, but she continued speaking even as he was lowering himself to the floor. “Some ground rules to start: First, always remember that you are my pet - not my slave, not my submissive, not my slut, not my lover. You will not speak unless directly instructed to. ‘Yes’ or ‘no’ questions can be answered by nodding or shaking your head. You will not stand or get upon any piece of furniture unless directly instructed to. A pet’s place is on the floor or in its cage. Do you understand so far, pet?”
He was suddenly very aware of the collar around his neck as he nodded.
“Good. You will be gagged on occasion, as I choose, but do NOT mistake the absence of a gag as permission to speak. It most likely just means I have chosen to hear your moans or grunts more directly, or that I have some other use in mind for your mouth, but you should just be satisfied knowing that your mouth is available because I wish it.”
She paused, then turned and simply pulled upon his leash as an indication that he should follow her. She made her way to the living room, while he scrambled on all fours to keep up, until she turned and lowered herself into an easy chair.
“Pets do not wear clothing, and so you will not wear clothing while you are here unless I choose otherwise. If you are required to leave here or be in pubic, I will choose something for you. Now, spread your legs a touch more, and hold still on all fours.”
He complied, taking a deep breath. She walked away for a moment, but was soon back carrying a small black bag. She knelt down behind him. Without warning, her hands were on his cock and balls, pulling and prodding at them.
“I’m glad to see you took care of your grooming. I’ll see how this goes, and determine later if I need to bring in someone else to groom you in the future, or whether you’ll be up to taking care of this yourself.”
As she spoke, her hands kept moving with precise, almost medical efficiency. She carefully guided his testicles, one at a time, and then his cock, though a plastic ring. She positioned it properly around the base of his manhood. She next guided his cock into the snug embrace of a clear plastic sleeve. He heard his breath almost as a whistle through his pursed lips. Once he was drawn deep enough into it, she guided its widened base up to the first ring, slotting the two together. Small locks clicked as they closed.
“I know that some say that all pets should be neutered, but we’ll just start you with some chastity,” she said, now prodding the device upon him, laughing softly at her own joke.
Her left hand moved, and she held him and the device as she brought his next surprise closer. “Now, I couldn’t really find the right thing for a puppy, so a pony tail will have to do for now.” He felt the first touch of it: the soft, so lightly lubricated, tip of the butt plug. It was colder than he’d felt before, and with less give than he was used to. She pushed it in, deeper and deeper, slowly and steadily. The profile of the thing just kept stretching him wider. He started to moan softly, and then silenced himself by biting his lower lip between his teeth.
“Short term pain for long term gain, pet,” she said, as though to comfort him. “This plug is nice and wide before it narrows at the base, so you’ll have so much less trouble keeping it in.” She giggled, but kept pushing. When its widest part finally crested into him, she switched to pulling back, giving just a bit of tormenting resistance, as his ass now tried to suck the thing fully inside. When the base finally pressed against his ass cheeks, he felt s tickle against his thighs. She let go, and with a blushing shock, his mind finally resolved the puzzling sensations he’d felt as it had been inserted. It was heavy. He could feel not only the fullness of it, but also the weight of it. It was solid, polished steel.
The previous tickling was intensified as his Mistress, her hands now free, grabbed the gleaming black ponytail flowing from the base of the plug. She flicked it back and forth, causing it to swish across the backs of his thighs. He could only imagine just how he looked at this moment, but the physical attention and his growing realization of his position before her was making him very keenly aware of how he was now feeling. His cock was throbbing, wanting to stiffen, but trapped inside the too-small sleeve of the chastity device. Even with his lips closed, he could not contain the building groan.
“There is another gift I will give you, to assist you in learning your position. Whenever I instruct you to ‘sit up,’ I wish for you to kneel, with your thighs spread, your body upright, and your hands up in front of you, like a begging puppy. Now, sit up.”
He scrambled into position, feeling the motion torment his full ass. He glanced down as he spread his legs, seeing his cock looking tiny and trapped within the device. He felt a bit silly, lifting his hands up, letting his wrists loosen and his hands slump down, but he knew there could be no hesitation. His Mistress took one hand in hers, holding it softly for a second, before turning it over, palm up, and curling his fingers up into a fist. She slid a snugly fitting, padded leather mitten over his closed hand.
She tightened the buckling closure around his wrist and slid a small lock in place, clicking it closed. As she repeated the process with his left hand, the fingers of his right instinctively tried to test their new enclosure. Not only was there no way he could remove his hand from the mitt, but he could also not even open his fingers. His hands had been effectively reduced to padded lumps at the end of his arms. The locks on them seemed redundant security at this point, but there were certainly making an impact on his imagination.
“Now, let’s help get you into the right frame of mind,” she said, jolting him out of his thoughts.
She held up a toy: a bright, translucent pink, floppy pink dildo, made of some kind of gel-like rubber. It wriggled obscenely in her hands, as she bounced it lightly, as though she was testing its weight. Then, with a swing of her arm, she tossed the toy across the room, where it bounced and landed in the far corner of the living room. She looked him in the eye as she spoke. “Fetch.”
He wanted to just melt into the floor, but he reacted quickly. He turned, on all fours, and crawled his way to the toy. He hand to move around the table and a chair. The weight and size of the plug were constant reminders of being stuffed and as he moved, his tail started to sway back and forth against his thighs. The chastity cage held him so securely, not unlike cock rings he’d worn before, so he was very aware of his manhood, even as it was trapped and kept in check.
On the floor, with his hands immobilized, there was nothing he could use to fetch the toy except to use his mouth. He lowered his face to the floor, opened wide and closed his teeth onto it, near it’s middle. It was soft, feeling almost wet, and it jiggled constantly, the two ends flopping from each side of his bite.
His humiliation was growing and he felt the blush in his cheeks burning even before Mistress got the full sight of him returning to her. She laughed out loud, clapping her hands together with glee. She loved it enough to immediately repeat the process, this time tossing the rubber cock under the dining room table. His tailed ass was high in the air as he lowered his head under a chair to fetch it.
Over and over and over, she played this game of fetch with him. His knees were becoming sore, his lips red, and he knew he was drooling more each time. His cock was throbbing and his ass was aching.
“So,” she spoke, seemingly done with Fetch for the moment, tucking the floppy toy away, “time for some more basic lessons. You know ‘sit up.’ ‘Beg’ is just like ‘sit up’ except that I will expect your mouth to be wide open and your tongue extended. When I tell you to ‘roll over’ you will roll onto your back with your knees and arms up or, if you are already in that position, you will return to kneeling on all fours. If I tell you to ‘stay’ I will expect you to stay put, in the position you are currently in, until I release you. No matter what. ‘Heel’ means you are to crawl to my heel, kneeling there if I am sitting or standing, or crawling with me if I am moving. You will get a tiny bit of leeway as you learn these commands, but you will find very quickly that correction will follow any mistakes.”
His eyes were wide, taking it all in, fighting to draw it all into his memory, as well as dealing with the growing sense of his new place. She wasn’t even asking him questions anymore.
“But enough work for now,” she said, collapsing back into her chair. “My feet are in need of some attention.” She stretched out her legs, crossing her ankles, and looked am him, a smile lighting up her face. “Come, pet, put that tongue to some good use before I decide to lock it away.”
The pleasure of serving her was at least equal to the threat in inspiring him, crawling to her offered toes as quickly as he could. He focused all of his attention on kissing and serving and licking at her feet and toes. He used his tongue to massage and caress every inch.
Her reactions, the wriggling movement of her toes and feet, the soft moan oozing from her lips, they transported him to a place of joy. It was pure happiness for him to be able to serve her, and a physical high to be bringing her pleasure. His focus on her body and her taste and all the rest of her allowed him to drift above his physical situation. There was a part of his mind, and body, that was constantly aware of the fullness of the plug his ass, the grip of the chastity device resisting his arousal, the impotent feeling of supporting his upper body on hands that were bound in padded mitts – but still, his heart was flying and free, since he was serving her.
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