Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by what happened today, but it still threw me for a loop. To an outside observer, my life is pretty sexually adventurous. I’ve got a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and we like exploring each other’s fantasies, but when I look at what a lot of others get up to, with their rubber and leather and gods know what else, my own escapades seem pretty plain.

I guess Carrie and Ben felt the same way, because today, they decided to change my circumstances. I had the day off, and when I came downstairs for breakfast, they were sitting on the couch together with a look on their faces. It immediately made me nervous. They’ve both got several inches and at least twenty pounds of muscle on me, so when they have matching cocky grins I know I’m in for it. Usually it just leads to one holding me down while the other fucks me, but they seemed to have something else in mind today.

Carrie beckoned me over, tapping the couch between the two of them. I nervously padded over and sat down, whereupon each pulled one of my arms up over my head and held them in place atop the couch. I squirmed a little, but I never had much hope of escaping them. They also wrapped up my legs in their own, leaving me totally helpless already.

“We had an idea for you, sweetheart,” Carrie said. Her voice had taken on that quality that always made me weak. Its mischievous huskiness meant I had a bumpy ride ahead of me before it went away.

“You’re so naturally submissive to us,” Ben said. He slipped his free hand under my shirt, cupping one of my brand-new breasts. “You throw your legs in the air whenever one of us needs to let off some steam, you do all the chores around the house, and we love you for it.” My cheeks burned red and I whimpered. They would both tease me about how I was a good little housewife for them sometimes.

“But we think it seems like a shame for your submission to go unexplored,” Carrie said, wrapping her own free hand around my neck. “We want to find out just how deep-set your nature is, and there’s plenty of techniques to explore that!”

Ben released my breast after a squeeze of my nipple, then grabbed a box off of the coffee table. He opened it, and I saw a glint of steel inside. Oh fuck.

It was a chastity cage, the kind I had seen images of on Ben’s computer countless times. He said he’d never been too interested in wearing one himself, but he had long wanted to be in charge of someone who was. Truth be told, the idea had interested me, but never enough to really take him up on it. But now, pinned between them and several months into my HRT, my cock certainly seemed to like the idea well enough.

“You may safeword out of this cage at any time,” Carrie said as Ben unlocked it. “But begging will get you nowhere. Crying will get you nowhere. Asking nicely will get you nowhere. We want to explore the depths of depravity buried within your mind, and it’ll be so much easier to do that if you can’t return to the reliable comfort of your cock.” My breaths were much shorter as she stared me dead in the eyes, and I was so focused I barely noticed the ring of the cage slip into place.

“You’re already our good girl,” Ben cooed, lining up the short tube. “We think you can be even better.” He slid it into place, then pressed down the locking pin with a small *click*. It only took half a second for me to start straining against it.

“You’ll be unlocked in the new year,” Ben continued, ignoring my desperate whine. I usually came at least once a day! “Extended denial should help you access desires you’ve never found the will to explore. Good thing we have more than enough will to pick up the slack!”

I squirmed desperately against my partners’ grip, but I had no hope of escape. “Sweetheart, if you’re going to keep wriggling like a hooked fish, we’ll just have to bind you to hold you still!” Carrie hissed. She climbed on top of me to hold both my arms over my head as Ben got off the couch, heading into the spare bedroom down the hall. Her position shoved her breasts right in my face, threatening to break free of the low-cut tank top she wore. Her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders, wavy and shimmering in the morning sunlight. And that damn cocky smirk gave me inescapable butterflies.

“I d-don’t think I’m that kinky though,” I protested, trying to will my cock down. Carrie laughed.

“I’m sure you don’t pipsqueak,” she chuckled. “Nobody ever does. We’ll see how vanilla you are after thirty-one days of straining denial.”

Ben came back out, a pair of heavy padded leather handcuffs in his grip. “You ready to try some proper bondage, baby girl?” Without thinking, I nodded. They did look really comfy…

He came up behind the couch and slipped them onto me, locking them into place and then locking them together. Three padlocks, one key, slipped onto a chain around his neck alongside the key to the lump of my steel around my cock. “You’re going to spend most of this month bound,” he said as Carrie climbed off of me. “Even if we’re just laying around watching a movie, you’ll be restrained. And if we’re starting here, well, I’m sure you can imagine what the end of the month will look like.”

I gulped. I didn’t think I could handle the kinds of gear I saw Ben’s friends using online. It looked so intense, so restrictive, so… kinky. I might be in trouble.

Chapter Text

The leather cuffs are still locked on. I’m shocked at how comfortable they are. The bondage is light enough that I have range of motion, so I don’t feel too anxious and my muscles don’t get sore. But they’re just restrictive enough to drive me crazy. I need help with the most basic tasks. Ben and Carrie make me ask for what I need in great detail, and if I’m not explicit about why I need their help, they won’t do it for me. Fuckers even moved all the dishes to the highest shelves that I can’t reach so I HAVE to ask them for help!

They really seem to like it when I blush. My cheeks have felt hot all day, especially because they didn’t let me get dressed today. All I was allowed to wear was the chastity cage and the cuffs, at least until dinner. Carrie told me I could have something more to wear, but I would have to pay a price for it. I didn’t even think to ask what the price was before I agreed, or even what it was I would be allowed to wear.

So anyway, that’s how I ended up with a locking leather collar around my neck, eating Ben’s chili out of a dog bowl on the floor while my partners laughed at me. Fuck, I turned so red. “Aww, what a stupid little puppy!” keeps ringing in my head in Carrie’s voice, and every time it loops I strain. It’s only been a day and the cage already makes me THIS needy? I don’t understand why this feels so good! I guess it feels more like a clit? Yeah, that’s got to be it. I’m not really that kinky, it just makes me feel like a girl. I think.

I did like it when Ben called me his caged pet. I liked it even more when he put matching cuffs around my ankles and said that pets don’t get to sit on the furniture with the humans. I ended up sitting between Carrie’s legs while we watched a movie, her fingers running through my hair and massaging my scalp. I kept zoning out and losing track of the movie, just wanting to focus on the scratches on my head. It got even better when she moved her hands down behind my ears! I kinda laid limp against her legs and sighed.

She even told me to bark! Just out of nowhere, scratching behind my ears, Carrie told me to bark and I just fucking did it. Let out a happy little yip while my girlfriend gave me pets. The second I processed what I did, I curled up in a little ball and whined. My cheeks were burning red again. Both of them were laughing at me again, calling me a good girl. Fuck!

They left me in the collar and ankle cuffs again after the movie. Carrie reminded me I could safeword out if I wanted to and they would not be even a little upset, but… I didn’t really want to? I didn’t expect to like constant bondage quite this much. Sure, I enjoy getting tied up and fucked, who doesn’t? But wearing handcuffs while sitting around and reading a book just feels so nice.

And honestly, I like the collar too? Me wearing it seems to make Ben and Carrie happy. They told me it looked really cute on me, and Ben loves hooking a finger through one of the rings on it and yanking me around. Once the movie ended, he dragged me up to our room by my collar, threw me on the bed, and fucked me senseless. He didn’t touch my cock once. When I whined that I wanted to cum, Carrie just put her hand over my mouth and told me “Good puppygirls don’t use human words!”

Fuck, typing is annoying in cuffs. The vibrating plug in my hole makes it even harder. Ben put the plug in me after he fucked me, the one he can control from his phone. It’s so hard to focus.

He just gagged me! He just taped Carrie’s panties in my mouth, then walked away like nothing happened! Fuck, they taste just like her. He told me I can have it off at bedtime, then laid down to read a book! Carrie said I should write “I’m a good puppygirl” in here and underline it.

I’m a good puppygirl!

Why am I straining so hard?! I’m supposed to do four more weeks of this?

Chapter Text

Ben gagged me right after breakfast. I’d gotten my computer out to try to get some work done, and he just did it! Walked up behind me and pulled a pink silicone bone between my teeth and locked the attached leather strap behind my head.

I protested, but he smirked and said “You don’t need human words to write, puppygirl!” My eyes fluttered and I just kinda nodded. I saw the keys to my cage hanging around his neck, and for a second, I thought about grabbing for them. I really, really wanted to cum. It was hard to focus. But he just walked away into his office and left me to my writing.

Carrie told me I still wasn’t allowed to put on clothes. I woke up this morning to the sound of her putting a lock on my closet door, and my dresser is empty too. I guess this is the closest I’ll get to being dressed for now. It is pretty comfortable. They even let me out of my cuffs for a couple hours after waking up and gave me a massage, telling me how cute I look all tied up all the time.

“Good puppygirls get rewards,” Carrie whispered in my ear. “Are you a good puppygirl for us?” I barked again, then blushed and tried to curl up, but they held me down.

“Ah, ah ah!” Ben said. “Don’t hide from it! Who’s a good girl?” I barked again. I screwed my eyes up and whined, but Carrie just kissed me.

“Who’s a good girl?” Carrie asked as she pulled away. I couldn’t help myself. I barked, and this time I didn’t try to squirm away. I relaxed under them, and I got more scratches behind my ears for my trouble. Ben pulled me up into his lap and hugged me, and I started squirming.

I’m a good puppygirl!

Carrie told me to write that again.

Apparently I’m not allowed to shower alone anymore? Carrie said as much when she pulled me in to wash me off with my hands locked behind my back in cuffs.

“Good puppygirls don’t get to shower unbound,” she said, slipping her fingers in my hole. It wasn’t like the cuffs felt bad, and I’m not about to pass up an opportunity to shower with my partners! It just feels better when Carrie cleans me off. Especially when she holds me against the wall by my neck to do it. Apparently good puppygirls don’t get much air either.

I wore the gag all morning until lunch, which I had to eat out of a dog bowl again while Carrie and Ben sat at the table, then it went right back in! At least it’s pretty comfy, I guess. Squishy and not too big. Plus, whenever I catch a glimpse of my reflection, it makes me blush. I look like such a slut. Totally naked, collared, bound and gagged, in the middle of the day! Not to get fucked, just… for the sake of being restrained. It feels… secure? Is that weird?

I’m still wearing all of it now. They gave me a break from the gag after dinner, they even unlocked my cuffs from each other so I could clean up. Well, they gave me a break from THAT gag. Ben just replaced it with a cloth tied between my lips. I could still mumble semi-coherently around it, but not much more than that.

The second I finished the dishes Carrie grabbed me by my ponytail and dragged me over to the couch. Ben put a much bigger silicone bone gag in my mouth, then locked my hands and feet together. They laid me across their laps, then Carrie fastened my wrist cuffs to a strap coming out from under the couch. Ben did the same with my ankle cuffs at the other end, and suddenly I was totally immobile and silent.

Then, they just turned on a basketball game and watched it while they groped me! They didn’t talk to me, they didn’t interact with me other than by feeling me up. Massaging my tits, fingering my hole, completely ignoring my cock. It was a good thing they used the bigger gag, otherwise my moans would have really distracted them.

I guess I am pretty into all this stuff. I’ve been tied up and denied for three straight days now. I can’t remember the last time I went three days without cumming. Why does it feel so good to strain against the cage? Fuck, I just started humping my hand. I hope they didn’t see.

They saw. My balls hurt now. Carrie locked my hands behind my computer chair, strapped my ankles to the center column, and smacked them while I whined into the bone gag. 

“Good puppygirls don’t touch their caged cocks without permission,” she said. I squealed and tugged on my bonds. It really hurt! But, as she so gleefully pointed out, my cock was drooling precum more and more with every slap.

I didn’t realize Carrie was this much of a sadist! She had always been so sweet with me in bed, making sure I felt good and safe and comfortable. But she took obvious pleasure in beating my balls. When a girl does that and whispers “I love you” in your ear at the same time, could you honestly tell me YOU would fight back?

I want to hump my hand so badly right now. Every nerve in every part of my body wants to touch my cock and hump until I cum. And I know if I wanted to, I could end all of this with one word and get that orgasm. But I don’t know. I don’t think I want this to end. I like sitting around in bondage. I like eating my meals out of a dog bowl. I like being cuffed and choked in the shower.

Is that a dog crate? Fuck me, that’s a dog crate. They’re putting blankets and pillows inside it! They just put my stuffed koala in the crate! I think I just whined? I THINK I JUST STARTED TRYING TO WAG MY TAIL? They’re even hanging little fairy lights on it, this is unfair! Who wouldn’t want to go in there? It looks so comfy and cozy and…

Okay, I’m in the crate now, writing on my tablet. It’s nice in here. I usually sleep curled up in a ball anyway, so I guess there’s no problem being stuck that position. The second I got in, Ben padlocked the door behind me. I guess I’m sleeping in this gag? It’s pretty big. My jaw’s gonna be sore in the morning. Oh well. I like the idea of sleeping in it. It really ties the whole look together. Cuffs, collar, cage, gag. It feels really good to be submissive. 

I wish they’d let me cum though.

Chapter Text

Still no orgasm. Not when Ben dragged me out of my kennel to fuck me first thing in the morning. Not when Carrie forced my face into her pussy right after. Not when they made me keep my cuffs, collar, and cage on while I went to the store today.

They even put that damn remote butt plug in me again for the grocery run, then cranked it up to the moon when I was in the middle of the store! I was sure that would force a cumshot out of me, but no dice. It shut off right as I was about to cross the edge, then I got a text from Carrie.

>~Oh yeah, there are sensors in the plug that detect orgasmic muscle contractions, and it’ll shut down the second it thinks you’re about to climax. Thought you might want to know!

I won’t lie, I wanted to throttle her. Four days? I was really hoping they’d be lenient. All that “begging will get you nowhere” stuff had to just be dirty talk, right? There’s no way they’ll keep me locked for 31 straight days. Won’t they get bored? It’s not like I have a bad cock or anything. I’ve fucked both of them plenty! Surely they’ll get sick of this before too long. Right?

They don’t seem too sick of it for now though. I spent the rest of the day with the bigger bone gag in except for meals and water breaks. After dinner, right before Carrie put the gag on me, she fed me an edible.

“We want you all dumb and fuzzy for us tonight,” she said, slipping the silicone bone back between my teeth. “It’ll make what comes next so much fun!” And what came next was what I could only describe as bullying.

She carried me up to bed and threw me down, locking my cuffs together into a super-tight hogtie. Carrie sat in front of me and shoved my face into her panties.

“Good dumb puppygirl,” she said, her voice dropping lower. “Just take nice deep huffs of my scent. You don’t need to think right now, just huff like the mindless mutt you are.” Fuck, she’s hard to resist when she gets like this. Her scent is intoxicating. It’s so sweet, but there’s this pungent undercurrent of sweat that’s like a drug to me. 

“Do a good job tonight and I’ll throw my panties in your kennel at bedtime,” Carrie said. I guess that answers that question. I wanted to ask when I’d be let back in our huge, super-comfy California king bed at night, but the thought vanished as quickly as it appeared. I just wanted to huff her scent. Especially once she started scratching behind my ears again. Every time she does that, it sends this burst of static through my brain.

I’m a good puppygirl!

Ben told me to write it this time.

Carrie’s hands weren’t sitting idle while I huffed her pussy. She tightened my collar a notch so I had to work a little harder to breathe, then she reached under my tummy and started groping my cage. It felt like the worst heat I’d ever been in, but orders of magnitude worse. Her fingers are so soft, I could just barely feel her touch through the gaps in my cage.

“I love how good your moans sound around a gag,” she said as I twitched in her grip. “I love that it’s going to be weeks until you get any relief.”

I wanted to fucking cry. All I could think about in that moment was Carrie’s scent and how good it felt to strain in my cage. The pressure was immense, but not painful. It forced my thoughts toward pleasure, and after just four days my thoughts of pleasure are already changing.

I think about how nice and comfortable my cuffs are. I think about how squirmy it is that I’ve barely spoken any human words for four days. I think about being a good puppygirl. I didn’t think I would give in this much this quickly.

Then Ben came in and stuck his tongue in my hole. I squealed, but Carrie just shoved my face deeper into her panties and told me to be a good puppygirl. What was I going to do, resist them? I just laid limp in my cuffs and let them have their way with me.

“Such a dumb puppygirl,” Carrie taunted. “Letting us do whatever we want with her slutty little body, not resisting for a moment as we keep her bound and gagged. Who’s our stupid little pet?” I barked into my gag. It feels so good to be a stupid little pet, but FUCK I want to cum!

Especially once Ben fucked me while Carrie kept teasing my cage, both of them taunting me about being helpless and locked. I’ll admit it, I begged for them to unlock me. Granted, it only came out as muffled whining around the bone gag, but that didn’t make it any less sincere. It would only take a stroke or two. I feel like I’m losing my grip on reality.

They obviously didn’t unlock me, and Ben plugged me up to hold in his load after he bred my hole. It’s still there, nestled right against my prostate, distracting me as I write. I’m back in the kennel, by the way. Locked in with a sheet thrown over it. I guess I’m sleeping gagged again.

I’m so wet right now. I’ve been dripping precum from my cage nonstop since Carrie released me from my hogtie and went out with a friend. Ben’s sitting in bed right now, reading a book, leaving me be. I’m really starting to feel more like their pet now? It’s a confusing feeling. There’s some part of me that thinks this is wrong, that I’m supposed to be their girlfriend! I should be up in the bed with them!

But like, I know I could do that at any time. I just have to snap my fingers and Ben will let me out, call me a good girl for trying so many new things, and I resume my old life like nothing happened. I don’t think I want that. I really like being a pet.

Cuffs and a collar really spice up my workday, and sex with them has been even better these few days than usual! I think they’re really into all this. Usually Ben has to work a little to get hard enough to fuck me, but the last few times he’s been ready on command.

I bet I could hump my hand right now and get away with it. Ben can’t see me through the sheet. I could probably get some fraction of relief.

I want to be a good puppygirl though…

Being a good puppygirl got Carrie’s panties in here with me, so who’s the real winner here?

Chapter Text

I didn’t hump my hand. I wish I fucking had though.

I had today off work, so Ben and Carrie let me sleep in. Once I woke up and had breakfast out of my bowl, they told me I’d be spending the day out and about completing tasks for them, and then they showed me my outfit. I weakly begged to be allowed other clothes, but Carrie just pointed to the lock on my closet door and I acquiesced.

All I went out in was my favorite winter coat, which was long enough to reach my mid-calf, a pair of short heeled boots, and a mask. Ben removed my gag, but then replaced it with his used jockstrap and sealed it in with tape. I was completely naked under the coat, except for, of course, the cage, cuffs, and collar.

He put the phone-controlled plug in my hole too, then synced it up to a playlist of Christmas music. I complained that people would see my precum running down my legs, that I would leave a wet trail on the floor wherever I went, but neither of them seemed to care. In fact, that just made them more excited.

It was nerve-wracking. I was sure at any moment somebody would figure out I was totally naked under my coat and expose me to the whole store. I’m still sure people saw the dripping trail running from between my legs. How could they have missed it? Every time the plug pulsed against my prostate, it forced more pre out of my poor, denied cock.

I was straining like crazy with every step; through the copy shop, mechanic’s, every stop on their exhaustive list. It took me all day to finish their errands, and I was a jelly-legged mess by the time I got home. They made me put away and organize everything I got before Ben agreed to turn off the buzzing plug. He kept the jockstrap taped into my mouth until dinner, though.

Dinner was out of my bowl too, and I suspect I won’t eat at the table once all month. Fuck, my cock likes that idea, it is straining like crazy right now. So many of the people who talk about wearing chastity cages talk about pain? Especially guys; all the chastity stuff I’ve researched seems to show they experience a lot of chafing and tugging when their cocks act up.

Maybe it’s the HRT, but I haven’t experienced much pain at all. There was some discomfort the first night, but since then straining has just induced mind-numbing pleasure. The kind of pleasure that gives no relief from the oppressive horny thoughts, but just makes it so much worse. 

Fuck, there it is again. I feel fuzzy.

I’m a good puppygirl!

They really get a kick out of that. Carrie’s reading over my shoulder right now. She’s groping my tits. She just told me I have to keep writing while she plays with my body, and that I should put my thoughts on the page. Her touch feels amazing. Her skin is so soft, her voice pours in my ear like poisoned honey. She’s telling me such evil things. How if she had it her way, I’d never get out of this cage. How I’m better off as their pet. Fuck, she’s touching herself to this. She’s getting off on my diary!

This is so humiliating. I can hear the sound of her fingers in her cunt, but she forced my head back around to look at my screen when I turned to look. I whined, but I accepted it when she told me good puppygirls obey. I am a good puppygirl, after all. Fuck, now Ben’s stroking himself behind my computer chair too. His hand is in my hair, he’s telling me how hot I look in my uniform.

Wait, UNIFORM?! So this is what I’m expected to wear from now on? Just a collar, cuffs, a cage, and a gag? Oh yeah, the bone gag is back in. The bigger one, obviously. I whined that I wanted the smaller one, but Ben said it was important from my training that my jaw get used to being stretched. It is pretty sore, but not to the point that I don’t want the gag. It does feel really good to see a cute pink bone in my mouth whenever I look in the mirror.

FUCK, they both came all over my head and just walked away! Ben said I’m not allowed to clean it up! There’s cum dripping all over me, the scent is so fucking strong. I’m straining harder than ever before. I want to hump my hand so badly, I want my cum all over me too!

Ben just locked my wrist cuffs to my desk. “I can’t trust a dumb puppygirl like you when you’re soaked with cum, you’ll lose control,” he said, so matter-of-fact. It wasn’t an opinion, it wasn’t a tease, it was just true.

He was right too, I was about to stop typing and start humping until I got SOME kind of relief. I guess I didn’t notice him installing these eyebolts into my desk earlier. They’re perfectly sized for padlocks to hold my wrist cuffs in place, and he told me I should expect to be locked up like this for work tomorrow. Fuck, now I’m straining harder.

I really thought I wasn’t that kinky. I’m not even a sixth of the way through this month and I’m already acting like this much of a subby whore. Cum in my hair, locked to my desk, straining in my cage so hard I’m going to bruise my cock.

The steel is fucking unforgiving. It doesn’t bend, it doesn’t yield, it demands absolute submission to its control of my cock. I can’t deny how much I like it. What good will resisting the denial do me? I can pretend I’m not enjoying this all I want, but the cage will still be there, providing something to strain against whenever I think of anything that’s happened to me this week, keeping me pliable and needy and desperate.

I love my cage.

Fuck, did I actually just write that? I guess it must be true, then. I use writing as an outlet for emotions I can’t bring myself to say out loud, and I often surprise myself with what ends up on the page. That definitely is true, though. My cage feels so good. Getting hard always felt… nice, I guess, but also kinda wrong?

Hence the HRT, I suppose, but pressing against a cage like this feels like what pleasure was meant to be for me. There’s this burning heat that blossoms up from the pit of my stomach, only to be met by cold steel and forced to continue growing. I wonder if I’ll burn hot enough to cum through the cage.

That was a pretty big burst of pre…

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Ben said I should open and close every diary entry with writing that three times. He’s also made it abundantly clear they will be checking my diary to see how my mental state is progressing throughout the month. He already spanked me when he saw I called them “fuckers” earlier, I guess I’ll have to be more careful.

That wasn’t really fair anyway. I do love it when they tease me like that. Putting important things up out of reach and calling me names when I need help to get to them, making me crawl around all day with my hands and feet locked together, laughing at me when I try to talk around the pink silicone bone strapped into my mouth.

I’m not getting many breaks from my gag. I haven’t been free to talk like a human for days now. It only comes out at mealtimes and when they want to give me something to drink or suck on, and those moments don’t leave me much opportunity for speech. I tried to ask Carrie if I could cum after dinner tonight, but she just shoved the bone gag back in my muzzle before I could finish the sentence.

Why did I say muzzle? It’s my mouth. That’s weird.

(Editor’s note: Continue to say muzzle. It is the appropriate term for an obedient puppygirl such as yourself. -B)

It was so hard to focus on work today. True to his word, Ben locked my wrist cuffs to my desk, and he also locked my ankles into matching eyebolts drilled into the floor under it. I had no freedom of movement, I had to send him a super-beggy text so I could go pee, and it made me strain so hard I thought the cage would burst. Fuck, I see what they mean when they talk about pain now.

My cock is desperate to be free. It’s sapping my focus and sanity, bombarding me with the dirtiest images it can conjure to punish me for not giving it attention. I want to scream at it that it’s not my fault, that I can’t do anything to sate the lust burning in me, but it’s not like it would matter. Little bastard would probably just strain harder.

Work was just the fucking beginning today though. When Ben came to let me out of my chair after I finished writing for the day, he stopped. He just looked me up and down and said “I don’t think you deserve freedom quite yet.”

He released my hands and cuffed them behind my chair instead, then just beat my tits. Bare hands, taunting me about how wet it made my caged clit, wailed on them until tears ran down my cheeks. They’re still sore and red now, the nipples feel a little chapped. I don’t understand why I like that so much. Is that weird?

He did let me go and have some down time with my Switch after that, but once I did the dishes from dinner they were right back on top of me. Ben had to go to his D&D game, but Carrie didn’t let me have a very relaxing evening.

She decided it was time for her puppygirl to experience some heavier bondage, so she added cuffs to my thighs and biceps, securing them with padlocks as usual. The sound of jingling locks is enough to get me dripping wet at this point, especially as I realize how many are on me all the time. One on each cuff, one on the collar, one on the gag. It really drives home just how submissive I’ve become already.

I’m pretty bendy, so she could pull my arms all the way behind my back to secure the bicep cuffs with just padlocks, not an ounce of slack between them. The pressure was intense, but oh it felt so fucking good. Forcing my muscles to hold that position, pushing my small tits out, it made me feel like such a whore. Like I was showing off my body for the gorgeous girl who captured me.

I guess making my breasts suffer was the name of the game today, because Carrie pulled out a riding crop and absolutely went to town. She shoved me into a chair, strapped me to it with these thick leather belts, and beat my tits until I was fucking sobbing. She started slow, barely more than love taps, but by the time she finally stopped she was putting her back into it.

The desire to call my safeword was in my head for most of it, but I didn’t snap my fingers once. I kept expecting the pain to outstrip the pleasure, but my desperate, straining cock indicated that I loved her harsh treatment. It tried so hard to push off the cage and stand at attention for Carrie, but the steel proved as inescapable as ever.

When she finally stopped, she undid my bonds, carried me to bed, and gave me the best cuddles I’ve ever felt in my life. She even gave me a break from the gag! I had an opportunity to use human words for the first time in days, but I didn’t. I just laid there and let her praise me.

She told me what a good puppygirl I was, how happy I was making her and Ben, how gorgeous I looked being so kinky all the time. I swear I was glowing. I’m getting blushy again just thinking about it!

This feels way better than vanilla sex ever did, and we were really good at vanilla sex! It just takes a little push to get me to agree to a full-on tit beating now, while my cock stays locked and ignored between my legs where it belongs.

Oh fuck, it felt good to say that. It belongs in a cage. Mmffff, it belongs straining in a cage. Is this really all it takes to corrupt me away from full orgasms and properly satisfying sex? A little lump of steel and two dominant partners showing me worlds of pleasure I never even imagined? I still have 25 days to go! 

I wonder how much deeper I’m going to drop. 

I wonder how much worse this heat is going to get.

I wonder if I’m going to even want the cage off come January.

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Fuck, just typing those words is enough to get me going now. My poor little cock is drooling constantly. I think it’s broken. In every single fantasy it pumps into my thoughts, it’s still locked away. 

Cockholm Syndrome. Ha.

And if it’s already broken, what hope do I have? The bone gag went in for bedtime last night, then straight back in after breakfast today. Carrie told me I look better on the floor while I was eating out of my bowl, and I just barked and wagged without skipping a beat. Not a hint of embarrassment, no recoiling from the idea of being a good puppygirl, I just embraced the compliment and kept eating my kibble. Cereal. 

(Editor’s note: Kibble.)

Another workday spent locked to my desk, this time with a plug added on top of it. Carrie mercifully chose one that doesn’t vibrate, which at least let me be a little productive, but I was constantly aware of it. Just long enough to brush against my puppy button. Ben told me I should call it that, both on paper and in my own thoughts.

I think it’s kinda silly, but it does feel good to not use the word “prostate” anymore. It feels so weird to use that word for it. Masculinity always felt strange on me, and that part especially just felt foreign. So… boy. “Puppy button,” funny though it may be, is a nice alternative.

Being a puppy feels nice. My muzzle and puppy button. I wagged my butt when Ben called me cute earlier, and I giggled when I realized it. When I get so much positive reinforcement for acting like a dog, why wouldn’t I do it? It’s not like it feels bad. Silly sometimes, sure. It’s an objectively ridiculous thing to do, act like a little pet. But fuck me does it feel good. When Carrie calls me her good puppygirl and scratches behind my ears, it feels like heaven. I want her to do that while Ben fucks me and my cock just hangs out in its cage between my legs.

I still want to cum though. Fuck do I want to cum. I want to shoot the biggest load of my life all over my tummy while Ben and Carrie call me a good puppygirl. I want to feel my girlfriend’s nice, soft pussy on my cock while I’m locked up in all those leather restraints. I want Ben’s tongue all over me while I whine and squirm and beg. I spend so much of my day thinking about sex. And cuffs. And cages. And duct tape. 

Mmm, duct tape. Ben left a roll of it on his nightstand and I can’t stop looking at it. The sound it makes when he tears it off the roll. The smell. The feeling of being a little captive when he uses it to bind or gag me. Sure, it hurts when it comes off, but the feeling you get being bound by it is more than worth it. It feels so degrading to have all this expensive gear on only to have Ben use something you can get for five bucks at the hardware store to restrain me.

He used it on my wrists and ankles while we watched a movie after dinner, just above the cuffs, which were also padlocked together.

“We can’t risk our little subby prisoner breaking out,” he cooed in my ear as he added more tape to my bonds. That drove me fucking wild. I’m not just their pet, I’m not just submissive, I’m their prisoner. Their captive.

Ben spent the movie groping my cage and teasing me about how I’m not allowed out, how I’m not even allowed to touch it, how any bit of pleasure provided to my locked-up cock will just serve to break me further. Fuck, I wanted to cry. It’s been a whole week, and I’m starting to go crazy.

The weirdest part is, my desire for relief feels like it’s getting corrupted. There’s this sadistic little voice in the back of my mind, telling me that Ben and Carrie love to see me like this so much, isn’t it better for me to stay locked up and needy? It’s hard not to listen to that little voice, especially when being a good puppygirl has brought me so much pleasure already. I still want to cum, don’t get me wrong, but my cock aches when it imagines the adventures yet to come this month. I’ve gotten glimpses of some wild shit on Ben’s computer over the years, and Carrie has morphed into a brand-new version of the girl I love.

She’s always been so loving and tender, but she’s never been the most confident girl. Hesitant to stand up for herself or set boundaries. She’s been walked all over before by people she cared about, and it’s led to her turning into a people-pleaser at times. But this… this goddess I’ve met over the last week has cast all that shit aside. She’s even ordered Ben around in bed, which I’ve never seen before. It’s hot as fuck, honestly. Ben is a bigger guy, muscular and well-built while still having some comfy body fat to cuddle with, but he dances to her tune as much as I do lately.

I’m writing in my kennel right now, and I can hear them messing around on the bed. Is that Ben moaning? I’ve never heard THOSE sounds from him before! He just called her Mistress! Should I start doing that? I should probably start doing that.

“Carrie” feels so informal for how I’ve interacted with her of late. She still treats me with love and respect, and when I have snapped my fingers to ask for breaks from the constant sex I’ve received them. But she’s taken a step beyond just being my partner, and so has Ben. I mean, look at me. I’m locked in my little dog kennel with a sheet thrown over the top while the humans have fun on the bed. I don’t think I’m their equal anymore, and I think I like it that way.

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

(Editor’s note: We are Master and Mistress to you now, puppygirl. If we see our human names in here again, you’re getting punished. -Mistress)

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Today was amazing.

Master and Mistress wanted to reward me for my progress thus far. I woke up to the smell of a fresh-cooked breakfast, eggs and hash browns and pancakes with Master’s special lemon curd. While I wolfed it all down, they told me how proud of me they were.

I was being such a good puppygirl and trying so many new things, communicating my limits as I encountered them, and how I looked so fucking sexy in my cuffs and collar. Once I finished breakfast, they took me out of my cuffs and collar and into the shower, where Master bent me over and absolutely fucked my brains out. Mistress made me eat her out while he did, groping and beating my breasts.

My hands were still bound behind my back, obviously. Good puppygirls don’t shower unbound or alone! My body used to take so much work to get ready to bottom. At least an hour of opening and prep, and even then it wouldn’t accept cock half the time.

Now? Fuck, it’s like the cage has unleashed the bottom bitch inside me. I don’t just take it, I swallow it up. Master pushes against my hole and it sucks him in like a vacuum. He couldn’t last that long inside me today, he said I just felt too good. Apparently he wasn’t supposed to cum in me yet, so Mistress shoved him against the wall and spanked him. That was a lot of fun to watch.

Hehe. Mistress just said Master isn’t allowed to punish me for enjoying watching him submit to her. He’s reading over my shoulder and got all grumbly when he saw me talking about him getting punished. Hey Master, I might not be able to talk, but how does it feel to not have control of your orgasms? Maybe you want a cage like your puppygirl!

Aww, he’s blushing!

Anyway.

Once we were cleaned off (and once I was back in my collar and cuffs, no gag for today though), Mistress unlocked my closet and told me to pick an outfit! Clothes have been a huge part of how I embraced my new self, and while it’s nice being forcibly naked all the time, now wearing a nice outfit feels even better! Now it’s a reward for being a good girl! And oh, my cuffs and collar make amazing accessories.

I put on a black flannel crop top and black denim cutoffs and tied my hair back in a ponytail, I felt like the baddest bitch in the world. Master was a little shell-shocked when he saw me. I watched him get hard, and I felt this rush of… power? That’s maybe not the right word, especially since he shoved me against a wall and put his tongue down my throat after a second of staring at me.

We were going to see an old friend of Master’s, an older woman who helped him find his footing in the kink world. Apparently she’d provided recommendations for most of the gear I’ve grown accustomed to over the last week, and she had a far more extensive collection in her home. I was wagging in the backseat as Master gushed about her to me, while Mistress kept her eyes on the road. She had a small little smile on her face that I don’t think Master noticed.

Fuck, I called Master “Ben,” and he noticed before I could fix it. So he beat my tits and said that since he couldn’t punish me for enjoying his submission, he’d just punish every other mistake far worse. Fuck. I’m throbbing and leaking everywhere now. Why do I like it so much when they punish my breasts? It must just be that I like being reminded I have them. I can’t actually be that into pain. I just like being tied up and treated like a pet puppy. Nobody actually wants to get hurt, right?

We got to this woman’s house, and we hit it off right away. She has this amazing mom energy. Her house is snug and warm and smells like a baking pie, and she’s so nice! Her name is Melissa, and she gives the best hugs in the world.

She and Carrie Mistress went into the kitchen to make tea while Master showed me around the house. He knew it like the back of his hand, and there was one room in particular he was especially excited to show me. He opened the door to the basement, and I saw a glimmer of red light at the base of the stairs. Melissa had transformed her whole basement into a full-service dungeon.

It wasn’t huge, but every inch of space was put to use. There was a high-backed wooden chair with leather belts hanging off of it. The far wall was lined with polished kink gear, everything from cuffs to gas masks to these huge…leather bags? Master says they’re called sleepsacks. All I know is that looking at them made my cage feel funny. An image flashed through my mind of being stuffed in one of those with Melissa standing over me, smiling down at me…

That image was cut off by her and Mistress coming downstairs, and Melissa laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she teased, and Master got all bashful.

My brain finally put two and two together as to what “finding his footing in the kink world” meant, just in time for her to grab him by the hem of his shirt and pull him into a kiss. Mistress had that same small, satisfied smile on her face she wore in the car, and she pulled me into a hug as Melissa deftly undressed Master. 

“I thought it would be good for you to see how somebody else submits,” Mistress whispered in my ear with a little kiss.

My eyes got so wide. Master had *always* been the dominant one of the three of us. He was the top. He was the one with the kinkiest fantasies and the sexually adventurous past. But in Melissa’s presence, all that melted away. His eyes were wide and shining, and he followed her every order with the kind of eagerness that signified a truly smitten boy.

Melissa did not fit my stereotypical idea of a dominant figure, all smiles and pleases and gentle caresses, but her authority over him was obvious. Before I knew it, he was fully naked and strapped into the chair, his cock straining as Melissa put clamps on his nipples.

I walked up to him, marveling at the look on his face. “Is that what I look like when I’m tied up?” I asked Mistress. She nodded and I giggled. He looked so silly! Spaced out and needy, eyes following Melissa wherever she went. He barely even flinched when she put the clamps on his nipples, although his cock leaked out a massive drop of precum.

I followed my instincts and licked it up, and Master shuddered with pleasure. I got a little smirk on my face, and took his cock down my muzzle to the base. I love gagging on Master’s pole, and I think I like it even more when he’s tied up. When all he can do to communicate his pleasure is tug on the heavy leather straps holding him down and moan. Fuck, just thinking about him tied up like that makes me strain.

Master tastes so good. I just got on my knees and worked over his cock while Melissa went about her business and Mistress watched, and I felt like such a good puppygirl. Master called her Mommy, and she spun a wonderful web of words and sensations around him.

She called him a good dumb boy, told him to not think about anything but how good the puppy on his cock felt, and then she started tickling him! I never got a chance to tickle Master, even though I knew he was crazy sensitive. He would always stop me, pin me down, and inflict it upon me instead. But now that he was all tied up, he couldn’t do anything to stop Mommy from digging her fingers into his pits!

He *screamed.* Like, loud, desperate, shrill screams, less laughter than an expression of agony. I didn’t have a ton of sympathy for him after my week of denial, so I decided to just contribute further! I brushed my fingertips in the hollows of his knees, and he would’ve shot through the ceiling if it wasn’t for the straps.

I think he tried to order me to stop, but it got drowned out in his screaming laughter. Fuck, that made me strain. I left a huge wet spot on my cutoffs. I didn’t realize I could enjoy this end of the spectrum too! Maybe I really am a kinky little puppygirl.

Mommy and I kept tickling him until he shot down my throat, and then she made him thank me for making him feel so good! I loved that. When he hesitated, I flicked my tongue over his cock while he was still all sensitive, and he squirmed so nicely in his bonds.

“Seems like your puppygirl’s learning a few things,” Mommy said, scratching behind my ears. I felt that burst of static all over again and nuzzled her leg, my butt tail wagging on instinct. “You better be careful with this one, Benny. I know full well how you get around girls who know how to press your buttons.”

Fuck, Master just put clamps on my nipples! He said that he may not be allowed to punish me for enjoying him being submissive, but that it’s well within his rights to get revenge for torturing him.

He also put my gag back in the second Mommy freed him from the chair, and it’s been there all night. It’s still the bigger silicone bone, and I’m actually getting used to it. My jaw’s not sore around it anymore, although I might just not be thinking about it because of these fucking clamps!

At least they’ve got little rubber caps on them so it isn’t hurting as much as it could be. It’s this sharp, stingy pain that’s impossible to ignore, it should be awful. So why the FUCK am I so wet?! I’m biting back moans into the gag because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. They’ve been right about how much I’d love this stuff so far, I wonder how much more they’re going to be right about?

I’ve still got so far to go. I do like this cage a lot, it feels amazing, but a girl has her limits. I wanna cum!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Being this horny all the time is getting me into trouble. I’m so eager to do anything Master and Mistress say, because following orders from them makes me strain so hard in my cage. Mistress gave me a little headband with puppy ears on it when she let me out of my kennel this morning, and I didn’t even flinch.

So now I’ve got these ears on, and I don’t expect them to go anywhere. At least they’re really cute! They’re the same shade of reddish brown as my hair, and the headband keeps my locks out of my eyes. I guess these are a part of my uniform now too.

Right after I finished my kibble for breakfast, Master told me he wanted to play a game. If I won, I’d get unlocked and have an orgasm! I didn’t listen to what would happen if I lost, and I didn’t pay attention to the sadistic grins on my owners’ faces. I should’ve. Fuck, I really should’ve. I just agreed to the bet with a bark and a wagging tail, and then Mistress gave me those ear scratches that melt me every time.

I got nervous the second Master said we’d be playing a racing game. I’m terrible at them when I’m not wearing handcuffs! Master sat me on the floor between his legs while he took his spot on the couch, which already had me blushy, but then it just got worse.

Mistress sat next to him and started teasing my cage with her toes, and I started drooling around my gag so fast. Mistress’ feet are so pretty. She gets insecure about them being big, but to me it’s just more to enjoy! They’re so soft and they smell so good and just looking at them is enough to make my head spin. Feeling them dancing on my cage was enough to break my focus before the race even started.

Then Master’s feet pressed down on my tits and I was fucking gone. I doused Mistress’ toes in precum and squirmed under them, my car falling further and further behind.

“Uh oh puppy, it’s not looking too good for your chances at your key,” Master taunted, squeezing my nipples between his toes. They were still pretty tender from the clamps from last night, so that pulled some squeals out from behind my gag. Before I knew it, Master crossed the finish line before I even reached the final lap.

“Oh no, poor puppygirl,” Master cooed. He set down his controller and reached down to grope my tits, squeezing them nice and hard. “We gave her a fair chance at an orgasm and she couldn’t get it!”

I whined that this obviously wasn’t a fair chance, but it’s not like that would’ve changed anything. Looking back in hindsight, I obviously wasn’t getting unlocked today. They want me in this cage for a full month, so I will be in this cage for a full month. But my stupid, horny brain got me into this mess, and I wasn’t getting out of it without paying the price.

Mistress threw me over her shoulder and carried me into the shower, replacing my uniform with heavy metal shackles and chains to hold them together. They pushed me down onto my knees and ordered me to stay, then… then they… fuck, they both pissed on me!

They soaked me from head to toe, ignoring my whines as they taunted me for being a gullible little puppygirl. Fuck, I strained so hard. I NEVER thought I would like something like that! My partners, who had always been so loving and tender and caring, chained me up and sprayed me down with piss while calling me dumb and weak. And… and it felt so good.

But they weren’t done with me. No, apparently I hadn’t learned my lesson about what happens when I think I’ve earned an orgasm, and my Mistress in particular had some ideas about what I deserved for my hubris. The clamps went back on my nipples, and then she lit a candle. That scared me. I squirmed away from them and shook my head, but Master grabbed me by the shoulders and held me in place on my knees.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, this won’t cause any kind of injury,” Mistress said. “It will hurt, but this candle is specially formulated for what we’re about to do. Just luxuriate in the pain.”

The first drop of wax on my skin hurt pretty bad. It wasn’t as awful as I was afraid of at first, but it was definitely painful. Mistress didn’t stop at just one drop though. She trailed the drops of red wax all over my torso as Master held me in place, ignoring my whining pleas for mercy into my gag.

Every drop on my tits was like a tiny needle, shooting pain into me. But alongside every drop came a dose of pleasure, twisting into the pain and confusing my thoughts. I stopped struggling against Master’s grip, my begging melting into moaning. It wasn’t long until I was pushing my chest out and asking for more.

Fuck, just thinking about it has me dripping wet again. Even my punishments seem to be getting me worked up now. Is this what being kinky is? Finding satisfaction in all these things?

I’m imagining going to myself ten days ago and saying “Hey. Pretty soon, you’re going to call Ben and Carrie Master and Mistress, and you’re going to be so turned on by them spraying you with pee and coating your tits in candle wax that you’ll drool just thinking about it. Oh, and by the way, you’ll be banned from clothes in your own home soon.”

Master actually asked me if I was ready for clothes after they cleaned the pee and wax off me, then just put me back in my cuffs and collar. Truth be told, I was a little relieved, even if I was blushy.

I really like being on display for them at all times like this. My hands and feet all bound up, my neck with an obvious sign of ownership. Besides, puppies don’t wear clothes! I’d feel kind of silly getting dressed inside at this point. When I leave the house? Sure, I don’t want to get in trouble. But there’s no point to it here. I’m a good puppygirl!

The rest of the day was relatively uneventful. Master did lock me to my desk to do some writing, but they largely left me to my own devices. They’re fucking in the bed again right now. It sounds like Mistress is wearing a strap and Master really likes it. I think he’s gagged? I hear metal rattling, maybe she put him in the shackles I was wearing when they marked me earlier. She’s calling him “bitchboy.” His moans sound so cute!

It feels squirmy to be locked up like this while Master and Mistress play on the human bed. It makes me feel like a pet. Why would you have your dog in bed with you while you enjoy your lover? It seems perfectly natural when you think about it, honestly. I’m just a dumb little pet, so I go in my cute, comfy kennel while my owners have fun in bed. I get to lay here and strain in my cage. 

I heard my name. I hear laughing. FUCK!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I swear to every god in every heaven that if I don’t get to cum soon, I am going to rip everything in this house to pieces. I’ve never been this horny in my entire life. It feels like I’m dripping pre out of my cage 24/7. Everything about my current situation makes it worse.

I look at my cuffs, I strain and leak. I eat my kibble in the morning, I strain and leak. I get dragged into the shower so I can get restrained and fucked, I strain and leak so much I’m sure that THIS time the straining will be enough to get me off and give me some relief.

But no, it just gets fucking worse! It feels like my mind is melting. I think my cock is mad at me, so it’s punishing me. I can’t look at Master and Mistress without thinking about them dominating me into a drooling little puddle.

I want Master to fuck me until I squirt out the ten day-old load churning inside me. I want Mistress to beat me until I cry. I want Mommy to strap me to that chair in her basement and not let me out until I think of myself as nothing but her toy. Fuck, writing all this down just makes the straining worse!

Master decided I needed to write today’s entry while locked to my desk, so here I am. The padlocks jingle as I type, it’s so distracting. Being covered in locks like this is so much hotter than I ever imagined it could be. A padlock for each cuff, one for my collar, and now the four for the anchor points on my desk.

I feel so… submissive. It’s fucking intoxicating. The absolute knowledge that my partners have taken control of my life makes me so squirmy.

Fuck, Master is jacking off behind me again. He said I look so hot tied up like this he can’t help himself. Wait, I hear Mistress coming upstairs. He got more frantic, I don’t think he has permission to be doing what he’s doing.

She just came in and threw him down on the bed! She pounced on him and pinned him down and demanded to know if he had permission to touch “her” cock! He’s stammering and whining, his voice just got so high and weak! I’m craning my neck to try to see what’s happening, but Mistress just snapped that I only get to listen!

Why does it feel so good that I’m only allowed to listen?

I hear the bed straps Mistress put in this morning coming out. Master isn’t fighting back now, Mistress is pulling the straps tight. I can picture him stretched out spread-eagle on the bed. His muscles stretched out and straining against their tight bonds, the leather straps and cuffs holding him in place. All the sounds he’s making are muffled now, she must’ve gagged him. I snuck a peek over my shoulder, it’s the smaller bone gag! Ohh, Master *hates* wearing pink, he must be so embarrassed!

Mistress said she got him a present for Christmas, but if he’s going to be a bad boy she’ll give to it him early. I hear a very familiar clinking sound… holy fuck is he getting caged?! Master’s gonna be locked up just like me! He’s begging into his gag, pleading with Mistress for mercy, but she’s just laughing at him.

“I don’t care if you’re horny sweetheart, if you can’t be trusted around my toy, I’m going to take it away!” Mistress said. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more anguished moan in my life.

I just heard a little click, I think it’s locked on. “I’ll let you keep our puppygirl’s keys,” she said. There’s another fucking throb in my cage. “You can take out all your frustration from being my caged sub on her, I won’t stop you. But I want you so worked up and needy that you can burst from a light breeze, and I don’t see a better way of doing that than chastity.”

Well now I’m bright fucking red!

“This month should be about discovery for all of us, not just her,” Mistress went on. I hear squeaking from the bed, I think she’s straddling him now. He must be going fucking crazy. “If she’s to be denied the familiar pleasure of her cock, you ought to be as well. You will be unable to think about anything but pleasure, and that pleasure will not involve that bone running free.”

Mistress’ voice is intoxicating when she takes charge like this. She just sounds so authoritative. It’s impossible not to take what she says as gospel.

Mistress just left the bed and came over to me, locking an arm around my neck. She’s whispering in my ear about how I’m such a good little puppycuck, how cute I look writing in my little diary and straining in my cage, how she can hear my pathetic whines leaking out of my gagged muzzle even when she’s turning our boyfriend into a puddle on the bed.

She said if I stop typing she’ll “beat my little puppy balls until she’s sure they’ll never work again.” Where is this coming from? What happened to the sweet girl who bought me ice cream on our first date?

I don’t know, but I’m in love with whoever this is. I think about her and I want to swoon. How tall and strong she is, how her hair catches the light and tickles my skin, how she can render me utterly helpless with anything from a look to inescapable, locking gear. I catch a whiff of her scent as she walks by and I want to fall to my knees and worship her. Fuck, the things I would do to bury myself in her pussy. So soft and warm and wet…

She laughed when she read that. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Sitting here simping over my girlfriend while I strain in a cage, unable to think of her as anything but my Mistress, not allowed to use her real name, I really feel like a sub. I never thought I could experience pleasure like this. Sex was always a lot of fun, but it was never addicting like this. I feel liberated. I feel happier than I used to. I look down at my cuffs, and I feel a bolt of joy alongside the strain in my cage. It feels so good to be so kinky.

Mistress just unlocked me from my desk and told me I get to watch this next part. I can’t wait to watch Master fall apart.

(Editor’s note: Mistress has made me hers. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be allowed out of this cage, but I’m going to make sure my puppygirl suffers everything I suffer a million times over. - Master)

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Well, Master wasn’t lying. His desperation is going to be my problem.

I spent today in the heavy metal cuffs and chains under his desk, my bone gag replaced with a wide steel ring, tonguing at Master’s cage. I can’t imagine that helped his state of mind, and his order seemed to come from a place of blind hope more than anything else.

I wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t help and would probably make things worse, but using human words feels strange and foreign to me after 11 days of virtually never speaking. Besides, it’s not like I’d get a chance to speak anyway. I got maybe three seconds between Master removing my standard bone gag and replacing it with a ring.

Fuck, the ring makes me drool so much, I feel like such a messy puppy. My chest is covered in spit and Master’s precum, and he didn’t let me clean it up. While I was under his desk, chained up and helpless, he casually mentioned that I should expect him to act a lot more cruel now that he wouldn’t be getting regular release. He’d need to relieve the stress somehow, he explained, and what better way to do so than on his perma-bound submissive puppygirl?

Perma-bound. That was the word he used, perma-bound. I should be scared of that. I should be terrified that I’m basically the hostage of a boy who’s been denied a source of pleasure he loves. I should be horrified that the only person who could help me fend him off just wants to make me more helpless.

But I’m not terrified, I’m so excited. I wag my tail when I think of how vicious Master will get with me once he reaches the state my brain is in. I push my tits out when he walks by me, I nuzzle at him when he sits near me, I get a whiff of the musk from his caged cock and it sets my head spinning. He already smells amazing, but now he carries around this aroma of precum and sweat that is like crack to me.

After dinner, he put the ring gag back in and turned on a movie with Mistress. While they snuggled on the couch, I knelt on the floor, lapping at his balls and moaning like a bitch in heat. The taste and scent were intoxicating, and I didn’t have to think about anything but being a good puppygirl. I was dimly aware of Master and Mistress teasing me, but I didn’t process any of their words. The tone was enough to make me blushy, but my every thought was devoted to Master’s package. Fuck, just thinking about it now is making me drool.

Master and Mistress have such different ways of toying with me. Master is much more physical. He throws me around and makes me worship him and likes to show force. He relishes in being bigger and stronger than me, and sometimes he’ll make my perma-bondage far more strict just for the pleasure of making me weak. He’s usually the one who’ll loop a finger around a ring in my collar to drag me around for the hell of it, and today after he worked out he made me give his muscles a tongue bath. I licked every inch of his body, chasing all the sweat droplets. He tastes fucking amazing.

Mistress though… she has a different way about her. She’s more than happy to use her physical superiority to her advantage as well, don’t get me wrong. She’s thrown me against the wall just to grope my tits more than once, but she plays these mind games with me that just make my heat worse. She loves to just… tease. Whisper in my ear about all the awful things she wants to do to me, how seeing me subbed out gets her off, how much she loves keeping me gagged and keeping human words out of my reach. All these reminders of how much my submission pleases her leave me so weak and pliable, fuck I would do anything she says.

(Editor’s note: Good puppygirl. Don’t think, submit. Don’t resist, obey. Dissolve into submission and servitude. -Mistress)

The sadistic little voice in the back of my head just keeps getting louder. It tells me that this is where I belong. It reminds me that the only human furniture I’ve been allowed on for more than a week is my computer chair, and I’m always tied up on it! It tells me that my poor little cock deserves every ounce of punishment it’s received in this cage, that if I’m being honest with myself, I kinda don’t want it off.

I want to cum, holy fuck do I want to cum, but I want to cum while I’m still locked up. Thinking about being free of this cage already feels strange. I’m sure I’ll sing a different tune come January 1, when gods willing I will bury myself in Mistress’ pussy and rut myself stupid, but for now it feels good to luxuriate in denial.

January 1. Fuck me that’s so long from now. Just thinking about waiting three more weeks for relief from this agony makes the agony feel even better.

MASTER JUST DRAGGED ME INTO THE SHOWER AND PISSED ALL OVER ME AGAIN! Took off my uniform so he wouldn’t get it dirty and sprayed me down! Then when he put me in my shower cuffs to clean me off, he stuffed my hole and mouth with dildos and said he didn’t think I was pathetic enough! I’m not proud of the noises I made. I swear I had heart-eyes looking up at him. Those steely blue eyes staring back at me, promising three more weeks of kinky suffering beneath him and Mistress, how could I ever resist?

My knees were shaky, my cock dribbled precum from its cage, and I moaned like a stupid little whore. The dildo was knotted, and Master forced the knot in behind my ring gag to keep it in place. I gagged on it, it wasn’t a small dildo, but he seemed to like seeing me choke on it so much I didn’t ask for it out. It wasn’t like it felt bad…

I got my bone gag back for bedtime, I’m all snuggled up in my kennel now. Mistress got me a new blanket at the store today, it’s so soft and fluffy and warm. She even spent all evening snuggled up under it so it would smell like her! She really knows her puppygirl so well, I’m so lucky. I think they’re fucking again, and I think Mistress is using her strap. Why do I like that I can’t see them so much?

Maybe I really am a puppycuck.

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Today was a mindfuck, holy shit.

Mistress said she had something new she wanted to try today. Right after I finished my kibble for breakfast, she clipped a leash to my collar and led me out to the car! I was still naked except for my uniform, but Mistress was so confident and tugging so hard on my leash that I couldn’t help but follow her.

I covered up my cage with both hands and blushed as hard as I have in my life, but we made it without anyone seeing. I think. Our driveway is not especially private, so any of our neighbors could have seen what a kinky little whore I’ve become. They’re probably gonna find out eventually anyway. For all I know, Master and Mistress are planning to rent me out to them.

She put me in the front seat, then showed me a brand-new feature she’d added to the car. She hit a button on the dash, and several small hatches slid open on either side of me with a hiss, revealing long leather belts hidden within. I gasped as she stretched them across my body, tightly binding me to the seat with almost no wiggle room.

Mistress pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road while I squirmed around in my seat as best I could. The leather belts were tight, and I couldn’t even move my head because of the magnetic lock on my gag. I had no idea where we were going, nor did I know where Master was. I hadn’t seen him all day. But Mistress just turned on an audio track on the stereo system, which turned out to be her voice laid over trance music, telling me to be a good puppygirl and Drop. Drop. Drop.

Just writing that makes me feel fuzzy all over again. I don’t remember most of the car ride after that, but I do remember seeing a huge puddle of precum between my legs once we reached our destination. I was drooling around my bone gag and Mistress had that smug smile on her face. She released the straps and magnetic lock, and only then did I hear a noise coming from the trunk. It sounded like muffled yells.

Two women came out from the house we parked at. They were both dressed in identical cuffs and collars to me, except they were wearing matching black rubber catsuits and spike heels, with their hair tied in long single braids. They were both stunning, and they popped the trunk and pulled out Master, hogtied and ballgagged and looking very confused. Mistress giggled as they carried him inside.

“We’re going to train some new instincts into you today, puppygirl,” Mistress said. “Your Master needs to understand some things about the way he wants his life to work, and you will be instrumental in that process.” I didn’t really get what that meant, but I wagged my tail and nodded nonetheless. As long as it meant I was a good puppygirl, the rest didn’t really matter to me.

Mistress led me inside by my leash, where the two mysterious women had released Master from his hogtie and tied him down to a heavy oak table. His arms and legs were stretched out to the four corners, wearing nothing but his cage and the keys to my cage and uniform, asking futile questions into the red rubber ball locked into his mouth.

The two women, satisfied that he was properly secured, came over and gave Mistress a hug, talking like nothing happened. Their names were Natalie and Cara, and apparently they were Mistress’ old college friends. They’d just moved to the area after years abroad to settle down, and they’d been planning this sneak attack on Master for some time.

They were lovely. We all sat down in the living room (I even got to be on human furniture and have my gag out!) to just talk for a while. They asked me all about myself; what I did, how we all met, and how I was enjoying my month of experimentation. I guess Mistress had filled them in on our circumstances. I stumbled over my words constantly, apparently spending the better part of two weeks only making gag noises will mess with your capacity for speech, but I at least communicated how much fun I was having.

Then we turned our attention back to the squirming boy tied down to the table.

“I don’t want you to only experiment with submission this month, darling,” Mistress said as she slipped the key to my uniform locks off of Master’s neck. “I think you should experience every side of this equation.” She unlocked them from each other, but did not take them off me. “We’re going to help you reduce our sweet little Benny boy to a desperate puddle of precum and tears today, and there’s nothing he can do about it!”

Master’s eyes got really big at that proclamation, and he protested into his gag, but there truly was nothing he could do about it. All those muscles couldn’t snap the ropes pinning him down on the table, and even if he could, there was no way he could overpower all four of us.

I felt this strange rush come over me when Mistress said that. I remembered how good it felt to drive him wild when he was bound up in Mommy Melissa’s chair, how much I liked seeing him struggle and fight and twitch. I got up from the couch and walked over to him, a brand-new vicious grin on my face.

“Hi there, Master,” I whispered, running my fingernails down his chest. “Feeling helpless?” He nodded, and his caged cock leaked a river of precum. I spidered my fingers across his chest, and he giggled into his gag. That rush came over me again, and I jumped atop the table to straddle him.

“Miss Natalie, could you tickle his feet please?” I asked, giving her my biggest puppy eyes. She smiled and agreed, running her perfectly manicured nails all over his soles.

Master lost his shit. He tugged on his ropes as hard as he could, howling and screaming into his gag. “Miss Cara, could you get his pits please?” I asked. I tried to mimic the tone I remembered from Mistress’ voice on the track in the car, and they all seemed to really enjoy it. Master’s eyes fluttered, and I felt his cock straining hard in its prison under me. I giggled and humped against it, taunting him with the hole he so badly wanted to fill. Fuck, I really like the feeling of having power over him.

“Look at you Master, what a helpless boy,” I cooed, tweaking his nipples. “Three pretty girls in cuffs and collars turning you to a needy little mess. And the only person here who could help you is the one who got you into this situation!”

There were already tears in his eyes. Being on top of him in nothing but my uniform felt like heaven. Just cuffs, collar, cage, and puppy ears, taking the man I love so much and twisting his desires into the most submissive configuration I could find. He’s definitely going to get revenge on me for all this, but it feels so good to taunt him, so I just kept at it.

“I bet you want to fuck me right now,” I said. “With two pretty girls tickling your feet and pits, I can feel how hard that poor cock is fighting in its prison. You’d cum in like two seconds, wouldn’t you?”

Master nodded, and we all laughed. I’ve never seen someone redder than he was. “But that would require Mistress wanting to unlock you,” I continued, giving him the biggest smile. “And I think we both know that isn’t gonna happen anytime soon!”

I turned and shot Mistress my best puppy eyes. “Pretty please Mistress, please don’t let Master’s cock out before mine! I think he should have to watch me cum next month before he gets any release!” Master screamed. He shook his head and pulled on his ropes, but Mistress just giggled.

“That’s a lovely idea, puppygirl,” she said, coming over and kissing me. I saw fireworks Drop. Drop. Drop. when her lips touched mine. My head spun and my cock dripped as she ran her fingers through my hair. I understood that no matter how much power I wielded over Master, she was the one holding my leash. She held all the cards between the two of us, and I was happy to be her dumb pet. Or in that moment I suppose, her attack dog.

Natalie had moved on to scrubbing soft-bristled hairbrushes across Master’s feet, while Cara ran her tongue through his pits. Master’s hair was a sweaty mess, his cheeks were stained with tears, but he was straining so hard I was afraid he’d break out of the cage and burst into my hole.

But as ever, solid steel proved stronger than subby desperation, and the ropes held just as firm. “Let your puppygirl serve you Master,” I said, choking him. “I’m just making you feel good! I’m being such a good girl for you, why are you screaming like that?”

Dominating Master was a better high than any drug I’ve ever tried. The sheer release of endorphins I got from seeing a muscular boy I love bound up and helpless under me was intoxicating. I think Master should be looking forward to many more days like this one, because now I’ve had a taste.

I’m fully expecting him to get plenty of revenge on me though.

(Editor’s note: You have no fucking idea, puppygirl. -Master)

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

I’m a good puppygirl!

Chapter Text

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Mistress told me to change my beginning and ending to that, and it feels good to obey her. Just reading that word makes me all squirmy. It’s so easy to Drop. Drop. Drop. for my owners. It feels like my brain goes a little bit numb every time, and sometimes it can take minutes to totally shake it off.

So when Master came up to me after work and whispered “Drop. Drop. Drop.” right in my ear, I collapsed in his arms. He told me that dumb puppygirls don’t get away with domming their Masters like that as he carried me up to bed. I laid in his arms, drooling and moaning. I was still aware enough to retain what was happening to me, but that word is like reaching into my brain and turning off the lights. I lose all control.

The whole way upstairs, he kept repeating it in my ear, and every time it melted me more. I’m still figuring out what Drop. Drop. Drop. does to me, but as usual, it seems like it has a different effect between Master and Mistress. When Master says it, I become physically helpless but I’m still aware enough to process what happens to me.

But when Mistress says it… everything disappears. Her voice slips that word into my ear and I’m gone. She’s much less liberal with it though. Master seems desperate to fill the void of pleasure that his cage has forced upon him, so I guess I’m going to spend a lot of time limp and helpless.

By the time he got me upstairs and let my trigger wear off, I was in the far more restrictive set of leather cuffs, the ones that lock my biceps and thighs together and leave me a wriggly little bondage worm. He replaced my usual bone gag with a massive ballgag, one that made my jaws strain around it. Fuck, they’re so sore sitting here now writing all this. I could barely choke out a sound around it, let alone any kind of coherent words or pleas. And holy shit, did I need some pleas.

Master sat on my legs and tickled my feet, digging his fingers in under my toes and taunting me for how helpless I was. It was like he hooked me up to live wires and cranked up the power; I immediately went stiff as a board and screamed bloody murder.

I’m so fucking ticklish. Back when Master and Mistress were just Ben and Carrie, they would use it to tease me constantly. Sometimes we’d be sitting on the couch watching a movie, and suddenly I’d be stretched across their laps while they teased my body with their fingertips. I knew tickling Master like that yesterday was playing with fire, but it feels so much worse than it used to!

Maybe it’s because of the bondage? Maybe it’s because of the cage? Maybe it’s just the sheer, agonizing pleasure of being properly helpless to get away? I have no idea, but the tickles made me strain as hard as I have yet this month!

My howls were muffled and weak behind the gag, and the cuffs held me tight so I couldn’t squirm away from Master’s vengeance. The whole time, he was monologuing about how I was his weak, helpless puppygirl, that the second he gets out of his restraints I’m always going to be in for it, that this is the natural order of things.

Silly Master didn’t notice Mistress standing behind him, taking notes in her little black book, but I did. I did my very best not to react to her presence, but my mind wandered to something Mistress mentioned yesterday with Natalie and Cara.

Something about “the way he wants his life to work”? She hadn’t elaborated on that, but I suspected it had something to do with the fact that he had four pretty girls towering over him and reducing him to rubble. Master is so used to his muscles, body, and charisma keeping him in charge of everyone he played with that he didn’t consider the power pretty girls’ mind games could wield over him.

Fuck, there’s that flash of dominance in my head again. I just want to tie him down and tease his caged cock until he cries. That sounds like a lot of fun right now, especially since I’ll be doing it with my cage keys still around his neck. Yeah, I know he’ll see all this when he reads my diary entry later, but who cares? I like all the “punishments” he gives me anyway, and Mistress will dissuade him from anything she doesn’t like.

But holy fuck does it still feel good when he’s in charge of me. He may be a simple-minded boy, but damn if he isn’t an effective dom. Once he decided I’d had my fill of tickling, he started spanking me. I squealed and whined and struggled, but Master didn’t let up. Mistress came over, and for a moment I thought she might throw him off me and punish him, but she just forced my face between her legs to huff and told him to make me scream.

He gave her an eager “Yes, Mistress” and got right back to work. She said she wanted to feel me howl so loud she felt the vibrations against her g-spot, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life.

Mistress kept a firm grip on my hair as Master wailed on my ass. It hurts to sit down now, I’m pretty sure he bruised my cheeks. It only took a few minutes for him to reduce me to begging, which just came out as pathetic whimpers around the ballgag.

“This is what dumb puppygirls get for thinking they’re above their Masters,” he growled after a particularly vicious spank. “They fucking suffer. They hurt. They think of what they did for a week every time they sit down.”

Gods know I’m thinking about it now. He’s never been that vicious or aggressive with me before, and I think Mistress planned it this way. She’s using me to bring out the cruelest dom she can find in him, encouraging him to take out all his frustrations on me. I was just following her orders to domme him! I’m just being a good girl, why am I getting punished? My ass hurts so much. I should hate this, it’s so unfair. Why don’t I? Why am I enjoying these unfair games so much?

I’m straining so fucking hard. It feels so good to lose to my owners. Even Master, the big dumb boy, is smarter than me. He has me wrapped around his little finger. Mistress may be in charge of him, but I’m certainly not. I’m just a tool to exercise her will. I just hope I get to exercise it some more.

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Chapter Text

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Well, if I’m going to exercise more of Mistress’ will, it certainly didn’t come to pass today.

Master told me stupid little puppygirls don’t have jobs after breakfast today, and that instead of working, I was going to spend my time suffering. He took me out of my uniform, replaced my gag with his sweaty gym socks, wrapped me head to toe in plastic wrap and duct tape, then laid me under his desk chair and seemed to forget about me. He rested his feet on my face, his toes over my nose, the one part of me sticking out of my cocoon, and then just went about his workday.

Just sitting here writing about Master’s feet is enough to set me off. They’re just so… masculine. They’re always sweaty and salty and fragrant, even right after he showers. They’re huge, big enough that they totally cover my face when he chooses to use me as a footstool.

Laying there, bound up so tight I couldn’t even wiggle a finger, I had nothing but his scent. I couldn’t kiss them or lick them or worship them like I’m usually expected to when they’re presented to me, I just had to huff. And huff. And huff. And Drop. Drop. Drop.

It’s so hard to think about anything else but Master’s feet right now. I can see them clear as day in my mind’s eye. Every wrinkle in his sole, exactly how every toe bends or splays when he presses them into my face, how they catch the light when they’re sweaty. Everything else was muted when I was in the plastic and tape, my whole world was Master’s feet. They’re superior to me. He’s superior to me. I feel like my brain is soaked in his sweat. What’s happening to me?

I was bound up like that for eight hours, he didn’t let me out once. He barely even acknowledged me. I started whining at one point that I had to pee really badly, but it was unintelligible as ever around my gag and he paid it no mind. Eventually I couldn’t hold it anymore and… and I peed myself.

I let out a truly pitiful whine as it leaked out, forming a puddle all around me in my wrappings. Then I just had to sit there and marinate in it for hours as he kept working. The scent of my own pee combined with Master’s musk fucking fried my mind. I don’t think I would’ve needed a full stroke to cum, just a touch. One touch. If I don’t cum soon I think I’m going to be broken like this for good.

Then do I really want to cum? It feels amazing to be broken. Once Master logged off for the day and cut me out of my bonds, the first thing he did was laugh at me for pissing myself. I whined into my gag, of course I pissed myself! I’d been in there for eight hours, what was I supposed to do?!

But then he just dragged me into the shower, applied the metal cuffs waiting inside, and sprayed me down with his pee too. “Good little hostage,” he called me, and that made my heart flutter. Hostage. Not a partner anymore, barely even a pet. Just a prisoner. His toy to use and manipulate as he sees fit, and if he wants me to spend a day inescapably bound and huffing his perfect toes, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Gods did he want to fuck me when he was washing me off. I could feel how hard he was straining in his cage as he humped against my ass. He sank his teeth into my neck and growled like a wild animal, groping and squeezing my tits, pulling delicious moans out from behind my gag. His socks are still taped into my muzzle right now, and oh they taste like heaven!

I love the flavor of Master’s sweat. I love it more than orgasms. I love my usual bone gag, but fuck I hope I get more sweat-soaked gags from Master and Mistress. They make me fucking feral. I really do feel like a dumb, drooling puppygirl when I get to taste them all day like this.

Mistress even commented on it at dinner! She just threw it out nonchalantly, like it was just a little fun fact, that I seemed to get a lot dumber when my gag tasted like one of my owners. I blushed and whined into my kibble, but I kept eating like a good puppygirl. 

After dinner, before I got my yummy treats sealed back in my muzzle, Master and Mistress decided I needed some sensual pleasure after my day spent as a taped-up footrest. Mistress pinned me to the bed by my shoulders and made out with me Drop. Drop. Drop. while Master stuffed my butt full of toys.

Every time Mistress kisses me Drop. Drop. Drop. it feels like absolute nirvana. The feel of her soft lips against mine, the way her tongue presses inside, how it leaves me breathless and desperate for more. Drop. Drop. Drop.

It feels like she pulls my brains out of me with her lips. I always liked kissing her before, but now I fucking love it. The one downside to always being gagged is that it makes it so much harder to enjoy the taste of Mistress’ lips. Drop. Drop. Drop.

My pussy is so much more accommodating that it used to be. I guess my body has accepted that pleasure doesn’t come from my cock anymore, so it’s accepting other sources much more enthusiastically. The toys he used on me… I could never take those before. I only ever saw them in Mistress’ pussy and got quietly jealous that I could never handle them.

But after just a bit of opening me up with his tongue and fingers, Master was slamming the biggest toys we have against my puppy button. It didn’t even hurt much! Every time I winced even a little, Mistress’ lips were back on mine Drop. Drop. Drop. and every thought of pain or discomfort vanished. I just opened right up and let every last toy into my pussy like a good puppygirl.

Mmmfff, my pussy is so sore now. Once they were done, they put my uniform back on me, re-gagged me, and snuggled me, telling me what a good girl I am for them. I just laid in their arms and zoned out, sucking on Master’s socks, happy to be allowed up on the bed. I didn’t have to think, I didn’t have to worry about anything, every stress that had plagued my life for so long felt so far away. I was bound, gagged, caged, and collared, laying with my Master and Mistress. What more could a good puppygirl possibly need?

I’m locked back in my kennel now with the sheet thrown over it, and Master and Mistress are back at it. They’ve been fucking like rabbits all month, and it sounds like Master’s really getting it tonight. From his desperate comments about how good her toes taste, I’d wager he’s tied up at her feet and worshipping.

I hear a buzzing sound, I think that’s the remote control plug in his hole. Oh, he must be going crazy! I wish I could see. Only being able to hear is driving me nuts, but I don’t think that’ll engender much sympathy with Master and Mistress. They probably like it that way. 

I think I just heard Mistress cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Fuck, I think I’m losing my mind.

(Editor’s note: Good. Puppygirls don’t think. They Drop. Drop. Drop.)

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Chapter Text

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

I… I don’t know what came over me today.

It started out normally. Master took me out of my kennel and made me eat him out before breakfast. Mistress took me upstairs to tie me up and grope me in the shower afterward. She made out with me a bunch too Drop. Drop. Drop. and I dripped like crazy, but everything was standard (well, what passes for standard now) until she took me out of my shower restraints to dry me off.

I just… couldn’t hold myself back. I shoved her against the wall of the shower and locked lips with her, slipping two fingers in her pussy. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. Her muscles tensed up against me for a moment, but then she went limp and moaned. I felt that rush of power again, and nobody was around to make me stop.

I thought about whispering teases into her ear about how easy it was to overpower her, but instead I growled. It felt much more right. And oh, she fucking loved that. Started moaning like a bitch and humping against my hand. I pushed my tongue in her mouth and massaged my thumb against her clit, feeling her shake and shiver in my grip.

She’s much bigger and stronger than me, she could’ve stopped me in no time flat, but she didn’t. Mistress let the puppygirl she’s put so much effort into training have her way with her, and I wasn’t about to let that opportunity end at fingering her in the shower.

I figured I wouldn’t really get another chance like this, so I grabbed her by her hair and dragged her off to bed, barking at her to encourage her to follow along. She did, wincing as I pulled on her hair, leaving a trail of water and her own juices on the floor behind her. I led her up onto the bed, not caring that we were both dripping wet, and directed her to lay on her back with her arms and legs stretched out. I saw a moment’s hesitation in her eyes, but she obeyed and let me strap her down in the comfy leather cuffs.

Mistress looks amazing all bound up. It accentuates her curves as well as her muscles, and she gets the cutest look on her face. This mix of fear, excitement, and raw lust that made me want to pull exquisite noises from her lips. Well, with some obstruction.

My eyes drifted over to the laundry hamper, where I saw her own dirty panties. I got a vicious little grin and bolted over to grab them, and before Mistress knew what was happening, I stuffed them in her mouth and sealed them in with the roll of duct tape on Master’s nightstand.

Her muffled moans were enough to catch Master’s attention, and he looked stunned when he came in the door. Mistress pleaded for him to stop me when she saw him, but he wasn’t about to get in my way. She’s been pretty cruel and dominant with him lately, and while he obviously loves it, he’s always liked seeing her turned into a needy puddle in bed. I barked happily at Master and pointed at our dildo bin, and he immediately got the message. Mistress whined into her gag, her cheeks bright red. It just made me want to torment her more.

The next hour was a blur. I beat her tits, I sat on her face, I choked her, I bit down on her neck hard enough to leave bruises, and I growled and barked up a storm. All the while, Master stuffed her pussy nice and full and ignored her clit. That treatment had her begging him to just brush against it, she wanted to cum so bad!

At least, I assume as much. Gag talk is hard to understand. But she didn’t exactly have a sympathetic ear between the two of us, what with how hard both of us were straining, so he kept going. At one point, he stopped toyfucking her long enough to put me back in my uniform, minus my gag, but he did not make a single move to stop me. In fact, he praised me!

“Such a good puppygirl, look how much pleasure you’re giving our Mistress,” he whispered as I dripped candle wax on her tits. “She’s so wet, she’s moaning so much, you’re a perfect little service dog.” Service dog. Oh fuck, I like that one. I provide vital assistance to my owner, and I make their life much better and easier to navigate. I think I love serving while being on top. Why should being a good puppygirl begin and end with being a docile little pet? My Master and Mistress deserve better than that. Sometimes to feel good, they need to be the ones getting tied up and used!

Once Master worked through every dildo we owned, with Mistress still just shy of the release she craved so badly, we stopped. We didn’t let her go, we just left her tied up on the bed and went to do some work! Master locked me to my desk, put my pretty bone back in, and went off to his office to get some tasks done.

We left Mistress bound and needy on the bed, a huge toy in her cunt, moaning into her gag. It felt so good to listen to her desperation while I wrote, and know that even if I wanted to do something to relieve it (I didn’t), it was impossible. Only Master had the keys to my bonds, and he was busy. So Mistress would just have to wait and suffer like I do!

We did finally let her out for dinner and gave her some snuggles. Master told her she did so well and I let out muffled barks of agreement. Once she’d recovered enough for words, she pulled me into a huge hug and told me how amazing I made her feel, how I was such a good puppygirl, and that even though she was going to give me a massive dose of payback for all this, that should not make me think she didn’t love it. She said I made for an excellent Alpha puppy! I don’t really understand what that means, but it felt good and I wagged my tail.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. I guess Mistress held my cuffed feet in her lap and tickled my toes while I howled into my gag, but that hardly seems out of the ordinary at this point. I guess that’s kind of insane, but I don’t ever want to go back to my old normal. Being a submissive puppygirl fucking RULES!

I feel more present and happy than I have in years. Writing comes to me more easily, I feel close and connected with Master and Mistress, and being bound all the time feels awesome. I’m all comfy and secure and safe. Even my gag is comforting! I used to be so worried about saying the wrong thing and alienating my partners, but now I literally can’t. I’m also less afraid of that now. Hell yeah.

I didn’t realize sex could be therapeutic like this. I feel liberated in my bondage. I don’t ever want them to let me out.

(Editor’s note: Don’t worry puppygirl. We won’t. -Mistress)

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop! Drop! Drop!