Beast

The clock slips from 11:58 to 11:59. Almost noon - but not quite. You've told me to wait until noon and I will. I have to. You wouldn't know if I peeked early, but I would. And I can't violate your directions. That is where your power settles on me. I couldn't betray it without betraying myself in a fundamental way. Obeying you is who I am.

A minute finally passes. Noon. I stand and walk with purpose to the restroom. It's time to check my panties.

This morning you left a note within them, face down, telling me not to check it until noon. You seem to love communicating through these byzantine channels, codes, and timely rendezvous It's a bit of a game, I suppose, but it's serious too. You're always leading me forward, and I've learned I need that. I've needed it since I met you.

The note. It will give me a hint about what you intend to do to me tonight.

I close the stall door, sliding my slacks and panties down together. Between my legs, nestled in the gusset of my panties, is the note. I peel the wrinkled paper from the fabric and unfurl it against my thigh. There, in your neat and precise print, ever so slightly smudged, is a single word: Kennel.

My head spins. I hear soft whining, the scuttle of long nails on floorboards, growls and rapid breathing. I feel rough fur, the panting of hot breath, the friction of a long wet tongue. I see the knotted and formidably thick members unsheathed, bestial and powerful. And above it all, the demanding but comforting presence of you overseeing it all.

I carefully fold the note and place it back in its nest in my underwear. I sit there for a few moments, collecting my thoughts, realizing that against all my better instincts I am becoming aroused at the thought of what is to come. I return to my desk but my thoughts are no longer my own. You have taken sole occupancy of my imagination. I see you standing with a leash in hand, hounds tugging against your grip.

When at last I arrive home I know what is expected of me. I go to the bathroom and strip down, placing my clothes in the hamper. I shower and cleanse myself thoroughly. I towel off and return to my room, nude and slightly damp as I take a seat on the bed, hands in my lap, waiting for you. I see a dog collar on my pillow and tighten it around my neck. It is all I wear.

I am in these moments supremely vulnerable, nude without the assurance that my body is worth admiration. Anxiety overwhelms me as I think about what waits beyond the door, without you here to place a guiding hand on my shoulder. I am afraid because you are not here. You understand this, of course. You leave me waiting just long enough to ascend to the level of arousal and anxiety that is your unique blend.

I look up when you enter, closing the door tightly behind you. You have a dog with you, just one, on a short leash. The German shepherd. Who says you don't play favorites? You're as nude as I am, wearing only the radiant glow of your perfect golden skin. Every time I see you I realize anew that you must be the avatar of a sun goddess who has been worshiped for millennia.

The dog whines and paws the floor as you lead him to me. He is aware of what awaits him, just as I am. I feel my body's inevitable response. My nipples harden, my breath comes shallower, quicker. You lead him to the bed where he sits obediently at a sharp glance from you.

You pile some pillows in the center of the bed and instruct me to lie back on them. You push my legs apart gently, exposing my bare pussy for your inspection. I crave contact but I know better than to touch myself without your direction.

Once you are satisfied with the arrangement of my limbs you tap the bed. The German shepherd recognizes this signal to leap up, but you jerk back hard on the leash when he surges toward me.

I look down and glimpse what my mind dreads but my traitorous body hoped to see. Half unsheathed, the dog's sticky pink cock swells and extends itself as you take it in hand and stroke it. I see its girth, its throbbing with a primal rutting need that matches my own. I don't have to touch myself to know that between my thighs my body has already made itself ready for his invasion.

Once the cock has swollen to a size that pleases you, you guide the dog forward until he's standing with twitching legs right above my waiting pussy. I brace myself to receive the penetration I hate craving, but instead, you tap on his back legs, encouraging him forward. The German shepherd straddles me as you guide him forward, his slick pink cock approaching my head where I am propped up on the pillows.

I glance at you, and you nod slightly to confirm what you want. I open my mouth as the dog shuffles forward. Suddenly the knotted head is pushing against my lips. I lick the tip and savor a heady, salty musk. I run the flat of my tongue from the tip all the way down, down to the fuzz of the fur sheath, as I try to estimate the length.

The dog is twitching frantically. Only your hand on its back keeps it in place. Your other hand rests on my head, pushing it forward to fulfill your bidding. I part my lips and accept him, tightening the circle as his shaft slides into my mouth. I begin to bob my head rhythmically, sucking him off.

My cheeks are on fire with a mixture of shame and pride at doing your bidding. I try to treat it like a man's cock at first, my tongue swirling and lips teasing, but the dog begins to thrust his hips enthusiastically, fucking my mouth with little regard for blowjob niceties. I cough and gag, but you hold my head in place. It's unnecessary. I wouldn't pull away. Not if this is what you want from me.

Below, between my legs, my unattended cunt is a swamp of swollen need. Putting on this performance for you is doing something to me. I could never have felt this level of intense sexuality without you. 

The scene proceeds quickly but it still feels like a trial as I perform at your bidding.

A grunt, a whine, a howl. Thick ropes of canine spunk spurt in irregular geysers into my mouth, making me sputter and drool. A string of drool and dog-cum connects my mouth to his shockingly red phallus as you pull him back. I take deep breaths through my nose as the cum drips out of my mouth, dropping from my lips down onto my tits. It forms little rivulets that flow into the creases of my crunched belly. My mouth tastes of dog cum. I wipe the tears from my eyes so I can see you clearly.

I can tell from the barking and growling that more dogs await beyond the door.

"Thank you, Miss Gwen," I say. "May I have another?"