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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Bitch for an Evening (Mdom-F)
by Tracey Richmond
***
"So you want to be my bitch?" the words floated over me like
a shroud of fog. I was lying on the floor, near you feet, watching
you, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. I looked up,
startled, looking for some sign that you were playing. I found none,
you were deadly serious. "Well?" you questioned impatiently,
"answer me, slut". It was all I could do to even nod my head as I had
completely lost the power of speech. "Come here" you ordered
harshly. I moved to stand and walk toward you, and you immediately
shouted "Down!". I jumped, frightened. "Dogs don't walk on two
legs, come here like the bitch you are". I got on my hands and
knees and scuttled towards you as quickly as I could manage.
I saw you pick up the collar, the black studded leather
dog collar, and twist it in your hands. I remembered you picking
it out that day, forcing me to stand completely and perfectly
still as you tried collar after collar on me, in the pet store,
in the mall, in front of everyone and anyone passing by until you
found just the perfect one for your "bitch in heat". "Strip"
you ordered, "dogs don't wear clothes". I hastened to obey, feeling
somewhat awkward and more embarassed than I had been in a long time
at being naked in front of you.
When all of my clothing lay in a pile on the floor, you
motioned me to you. "For the duration of tonight you will be my
bitch. You will do nothing that a bitch dog would not do. You will
not speak. You will indicate any needs with your eyes or by barking.
If you speak, you will be punished. If you do _anything_ a dog
would not do, you will be punished. This will not be a "light"
or "play" punishment. You will not like it. It will be quick
and hard and painful. Do you understand?". I looked up at you,
fear in my eyes, but a desperate desire to please you burning
in my soul. I nodded, afraid to speak. "Let me hear you give
your consent. It will be the last words you speak unless you
are safewording, or until I give you your voice back. Do you
understand?". "Yes Sir" I stammered, hanging my head. You know
how hard it is for me to give my consent for humiliation. That was
your impetus to ask me for my consent so explicitly. All I could
do was think about what dogs do, how dogs act, how _I_ would
be acting.
I expected a suddenness to our interaction. I expected you
to begin a scene immediately. This didn't happen. You walked
over to the couch and grabbed the newspaper and began to read. I
didn't know what to do with myself. At first I sat on my
haunches and watched you, looking for any sign that would tell me
what you expected of me. I got nothing. No eye contact, no
vocal contact, nothing. "What do dogs do to get attention?" I
pondered. I padded over to your legs and hesitantly rubbed my
cheek against you. I was rewarded with an idle pat on the head, no
more. Your attention never wavered and I was most definitely not
your focus of attention. I lay down in a ball at your feet and
waited. Waited. Waited.
I had no concept of time as my watch had been stripped
off me along with my clothes. The room we lay in was the only
one in the house without a clock. I had no way of knowing how
much time had passed and it was extremely difficult to be patient.
Finally, after it seemed you would never notice me, I began to
whine low in my throat. It was a whimpering type of cry, one
full of need and desire. I didn't know what I wanted at that
exact point in time, I only knew that it was killing me to be
so ignored. You didn't look up from your paper, but you did
murmur "What is it girl?" as you continued to read. I whimpered.
I whined. I nudged your leg hopefully, trying to get a response.
Finally I flung myself at your lap and nosed the paper out of
your hands. I could feel my tongue lolling out, wondering if
my claws were digging into your leg and hurting you, and finding
I could not stop my behavior.
Your low chuckle was my reward and the paper was put
aside. "Do you want to play, bitch?" you asked softly. I
looked up at you and tried with all my doggy might to express
that yes, I absolutely wanted that, very very much. I must have
succeeded because you stood and walked to the dresser. I looked
at you expectantly, doing a mental tail wag to the best of my
ability. You took out a scarf and asked me, in your most
demeaning and playful voice, if I wanted to play "tug of war".
I could feel the light start to go out of my eyes, but I was intent
on playing my role to the fullest so I tried to prance over to you.
You offered me one end, which I grabbed and tried to work into position
using just my teeth. You then proceeded to tug it, and me, around
the room roughly. I did not have nearly the strength in my mouth
as a "regular" dog, but I tried the best I could. Your eyes
laughed at me the entire time, but I refused to give in. After
playing this way for a few minutes, you stopped and looked at me.
"This isn't the type of game you wanted to play, is it bitch?"
you questioned me teasingly. I tried to look hopeful and wag
my invisible tail once more. You laughed at my attempt and told me
it would look "much better" if I had an actual tail to wag.
At this I froze, thinking of only one way I knew that
I could be given a tail. One would certainly be attached to a plug
that would be inserted into my ass! While I enjoyed the feeling once
it was in, I was always terror struck when the idea was mentioned.
I don't know if its the physical discomfort or the actual
humiliation of having something inserted into me that so perturbed
me, but I could feel the flush of embarassment creeping over my
face steadily as the ticking of a clock. "Come here girl" you said.
I padded to you and crouched at your feet, doing everything I could
with my body language to show you how disturbed I was at the idea
of a tail. It did no good. The next thing I knew, you had a plug
with a short tail affixed to it and you motioned me to turn around.
I whimpered but obeyed, turning my backside to you, baring my ass,
trying to relax, to do anything to make it easier, less humiliating,
less.....invasive. Of course none of this did any good. You laughed
as you lubed it, laughed as you saw my shaking, laughed as you
heard my protesting whines and hurt whimpers. You did rub my
flanks as it went in, the one mreasure of comfort in this whole
ordeal. Sooner than I would have expected it was fully in me and I
could feel the short fine hair tickling the backs of my thighs.
Despite myself I wanted to play with it, wanted to see what it
would be like to chase it, to feel it slap against me, to wag my
backside and watch the flare as best I could, but my pride stopped
me. You seemed to realize this and ordered me to chase my tail.
For a moment I could almost forget the humiliation as I chased
after that elusive tail in single-minded bliss.
"Bitch" I heard, "come here and leave that damn tail
alone!". I blushed again, feeling like I had been caught doing
something forbidden, and hurried over to you once again. I
noticed your pants had the button down and your hands were on
your thighs. "If you really want to be my bitch, you'll
please me with that mouth of yours. Now!" you ordered, desire
thickening your voice even more than usual. I looked at you,
somewhat puzzled, wondering how in the world I would be able to
do as you had ordered and still be a dog. I reached up and grabbed
the zipper pull delicately in my teeth, tugging it down as gently
as I could. Then I went to the bottom of your pants, grabbing
the cuff and tugging. You sat on the edge of the couch and raised
up slightly to give me just a little help. IT took a while,
but finally I had you out of those pants. Now the underwear was
my next obstacle. Fortunately you were wearing boxers today, a
surprise, instead of your usual briefs. I could see the bulge
of that hard cock just barely brushing against the front of those
boxers, just enough to make me desperate to get them off and
my mouth on you. I tugged these off a bit more fiercely, anxious,
waiting.
I could see your smile growing as you watched my impatient
teeth wrestle with the boxers, knowing how I wanted that cock in
my mouth, knowing how desperate I was to please you. I lost the
power to even think in words at this point, lost the ability to
form coherent thoughts. I wanted. I needed. I _had_ to have.
These were the only feelings driving me on and encouraging me.
Finally I had it, had YOU in my mouth, your hands on my head
pushing me like you've never pushed. You were very obviously
using me, filling my mouth and throat with that unrelenting cock,
smiling all the while. I could hear you, when you would slow
down enough for me to catch my breath, "That's it. That's a
good girl. Take it. Take it all. Come on bitch, work it,
work my cock". It was almost a mantra, grunted and pushed out of
your tensed lips, your mouth drawn, breath rasping.
I don't know how long this went on; I lost track of time
of space, of even who I was. All I knew is that I was filled with
this incredible sense of surprise when you pulled yourself from
my hungry mouth and slapped me on the ass, making the tail twitch,
the plug move inside me, reminding me again of its presence. Your
eyes were glazed with passion and I knew I would do anything, anything
at all to please you. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to make you
come. I wanted to have you get to heights you'd never dreamed of
before, using me as your instrument. I wanted to feel absolutely
and completely engulfed into and by you.
You whipped me around so that my back was to you and
grabbed your cock. You didn't guide it into me. You didn't
ease it into me. You didn't take your time. You were not
gentle. You slammed that hard cock into me hard. Fast. Over and
over. You took me roughly, but I was ready for it. I was ready
for you. You fucked me single-mindedly, repeating the word
"bitch" over and over. I was moaning and whimpering, totally
unable to hold back the noises which were being pummelled out
of me. Your hands were hard on my hips; I would wear your
fingertips as bruises on my body for the next week. You held me
still as you careened into me again and again and again, like a
runaway train. This was not "making love". This was not "having
sex". This was you, flat out, full force fucking me. Using me as a
place to house your cock again and again.
I lost track of how many times I had come. I didn't know
where one orgasm stopped and the next one began. I didn't know
anything except that there was a persistent howling, a consistent
howling noise that I could not seem to recognize as my own voice.
With a gasp and a shudder I could feel your body give itself over
to orgasm. I couldn't believe you hadn't come by then. I could
not see how you could have possibly held out against that
onslaught, but you had. You came only once, but it felt like the
world had crashed to a complete standstill.
You let me clean off that hard cock with my tongue,
and then you let me clean the rest of you off as well. You
pulled me to you and stroked my sweat soaked fur. "That's a
good girl" you whispered, "that's my good little bitch". And
that was enough, that was all I needed.