[SlaveLeia147]

Despite the anticipation and the restlessness of the previous evening, I sleep like a baby. I wake with a start, glance at you, and smile. I start the coffee and take a long luxurious shower. I drink my coffee slowly, knowing it will be the last human thing I do today. You wake and I hear the shower running. I imagine you soaping your strong body, slipping your hand over your cock. I think of the way you will inevitably smell so good after showering. The body wash you use gives you such a ‘man in the woods’ smell. It’s invigorating and incredibly sexy. I place my coffee cup in the sink and notice another purple wrapped present on the counter. The tag reads, Because I care. I open the gift and find the most adorable purple knee pads. I laugh and sit down on the floor, pulling them on. Next I go to the bedroom and place on my thigh cuffs. I grab my charm and name tag and place them on my collar, which I left on the counter with my gag and nipple clamps. Those are for you to wield when you see fit. I grab the lube and put my tail into my ass. I go to the living room, and there is another purple wrapped box. What is this? I think. I open it to find a headband adorned with matching doggy ears. Purple and cute. I place them on. I crawl to the mirror to look at myself. I look completely adorable. I wag my tail as I smile into the mirror.
“Well, isn’t that a sight to see first thing in the morning?” you ask me. I turn to smile at you, wagging my tail in pleasure.
“Come on, girl.” I follow you, headed for the kitchen. You place on my collar, and it’s as if it belongs there. I feel so completely yours in this moment. I can’t help but smile widely.
“Such a pretty puppy,” you say as you run your fingers through my hair.
You reach around and connect the bone gag through my mouth. My tongue is out, and speaking is out the question. You pull open a drawer and pull out lavender duct tape. You tape my hands up, making the use of my fingers impossible. I’m still comfortable for crawling though, which is very important.
“Are you hungry, girl?” you ask me. I nod. I am a bit hungry. I only had coffee. You pour Cocoa Puffs in my bowl, and pour milk over top. You once again remove my gag, and I bend down to somehow eat. You pour your own bowl and settle on to one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. You are watching me as I eat. I’m trying to be dignified about it. Dainty. But, it’s a slow process. “Come on, Princess. We don’t have all day to eat breakfast,” you say, and even though your tone is light, I know you want me to hurry. I bury my face in my bowl and really eat. I chew hard on the cereal and lap at the milk. I lose myself in eating, being a dog, while you watch. When I’m finished, I pull up my milk drenched face and look at you. You laugh a bit, but wet a paper towel and wipe my face. I give your hand a lick in thanks. You pat my head. You put the bone gag back in, and lead me to the living room.
I lay on my dog bed while you watch some random television. When you pass a program I was wanting to watch, I whine in protest. You pull out a rolled up newspaper and swat me on the ass with it. “No!” you command. My face falls. You tug on my leash and I come to kneel before you. You remove my gag, but attach my clamps to my nipples, attaching the chains of them to my thigh cuffs. You pull out an adorable purple chew toy. “Fetch,” you say as you throw it. I look at you and crawl toward the toy. Every “step” pulls my nipples. It’s both agonizing and erotic. I pick up the toy with my mouth and drop it at your feet. “Good girl,” you patronize, as you take the toy again and throw it. This tortuous game of Fetch goes on for several minutes. When you finally stop throwing the toy, I’m spent. Crawling on all fours takes it out of you.
I lay back down on the doggy bed, but you have other ideas. “Come here, Princess,” you command, tugging gently on my leash. I eagerly obey. You undo my nipple clamps, as they have been on for quite some time. You play with my nipples a bit, squeezing and pulling, making sure the blood is flowing freely. I let out a little moan. I nudge your leg with my nose. “What is it, girl?” you ask. Certainly you know exactly what I want. I start to say what I want, but you stop me before I can form a word. You grab the rolled up newspaper again, swatting my ass. “No! Bad dog!” I look up at you in horror. Bad dog? You wink at me, and I know we’re just acting. You grab the gag again and place it in my mouth. We spend about an hour together with you sitting on the couch, watching some kind of sports coverage with me resting at your feet. I start to get a feeling of dread. I have to pee. I don’t want to. I’m having an internal conflict. This was the part of today I was fearing most. I get back up on all fours and crawl to the bell at the door. I ring it with my nose, and you smile.
“Do you have to go potty, girl?” you ask me. I know you are laughing at me and I’m a bit mad about it. The bone gag in my mouth is stopping me from saying all kinds of nasty things I may regret if I say aloud. All in all, I kind of like the bone gag, but that rolled up newspaper has to go. You remove my tail temporarily so it doesn’t get wet. (You think of everything!) You connect my leash once more and lead me out the back door into the fenced-in yard. You have a package of diaper wipes with you. Good grief. Could this get any more mortifying?
You lead me in the backyard as I find a spot to pee. I try to go behind the big tree, trying to shield myself. I don’t want you to watch me pee. I am embarrassed and flushed. I squat down in my chosen spot and pee. You’re watching me. You’re smiling, like it is something you enjoy. You like watching me pee? This is something I never knew about you. “Good girl,” you say as you use the diaper wipes to clean me up. In my ear, you whisper, “That was sexy, Princess. It wasn’t as bad as you thought, was it?” Before lifting yourself back up, you kiss my ear. I look up at you and smile. You lead me back into the house, unhook the leash, put my tail back in with ample amounts of lube, and remove the bone gag.
“I have to go to the store, Princess. I’ve set your phone to obey voice commands, as you can’t use your fingers. You may use it to call me in an emergency situation only. Do you understand?” you ask me. I nod. You pat my head and run your fingers all the way down my arched back. You reach underneath my tail and feel how wet all this is making me. Your voice sounds a bit huskier as you say, “Be a good girl, Princess. Daddy loves you.”
You turn on Animal Planet before you go, but you are gone an awfully long time. I start to think that being a dog must be boring. I try to get into the mindset of a dog. What would a dog do if left to its own devices? Get into stuff. Destroy the enemy, right? So, my enemy right now is that damned rolled up newspaper. I grab it in my teeth and rip a few pages apart. I get a giddy bout of satisfaction. So, I continue. I rip that newspaper to smithereens. I play with the pieces, rolling about and trying to make a huge pile of newspaper. I’m genuinely having fun, until I hear the door start to open. Uh-oh. I’m in trouble now. I don’t have an ounce of regret about the fate of the newspaper, but I know you’re going to be disappointed in me. There are newspaper pieces everywhere!
“What is this?” you ask. You look at me, both humor and irritation in your eyes. “What did you do?” I whimper in answer, having the sense to look ashamed. You grab me by my collar and make me look at the floor. “What did you do, Princess?” you ask again. “Bad dog!” you yell at me. I was bad, wasn’t I? I know that I’ll be punished. You spank my ass hard with your hand. “Bad dog!” you yell again. Over and over, you spank me, repeating how bad of a dog I am. I start to cry very human tears. You pull me to look you into your eyes. “I’ll forgive you, Princess. It’s ok. Don’t do it again.” Goodness I feel so much better. Sometimes it’s amazing how much of a release a good spanking can be. My ass tingles and I can tell it’s a brilliant shade of crimson even without a mirror.
You clean up my mess—it’s becoming a bit of a theme today—and again leash me, putting in my gag. You lead me to my cage, urging me inside. “Some of us have things to do today, Princess. I’m going to wash the car. You may ring the bell if you have to go to the restroom. You be a good girl, or else. Understood?” You slam the cage door closed, but I’m not to be comfortable. I’m a bad dog. You hook my tail to the top of the cage. You clamp my nipples and hook them to the bottom of the cage. I’m stuck, face down, ass up. It’s not very comfortable, especially for long periods. That’s the point, I guess. I try to take this punishment in stride. It’s not like it’ll take you all that long to wash the car, right? Wrong. It must be the world’s largest car, or you are going for the Guinness Book of World Records prize for how clean a car can be. I’m in that position for what seems like forever. My muscles ache, and comfort is beyond me now. Just when I think I’ll die from the pain, you come in and relieve me, disengaging me and releasing me from the cage. You unhook my nipple clamps again, and I crawl over to my doggy bed and land in a heap.
I’m not sure if I passed out or what, but what seems like a few minutes later, I smell the most glorious smell. I realize that I’m starving. I toddle out into the kitchen and look up at you. “Are you hungry, girl?” you ask me. You slide what looks like a mushroom omelet with cheese into my doggy bowl. I don’t bother trying to be dainty this time. I’m hungry, and that omelet looks and smells amazing. I bury my face in the bowl and devour that omelet. It’s so good. I finish it in minutes, and look up at you, embarrassed at eating like a savage. “Good, wasn’t it, girl?” you ask me, smiling. I nod and lap at my water dish, suddenly thirsty. I’m so thirsty, lapping the water so enthusiastically, I don’t hear you come up behind me. You pet my head, down my neck and back, rubbing my butt, and then, sweet God, your fingers find my wet spot. I’m completely drenched. You whisper in my ear, “Someone’s enjoying this, isn’t she?” You put one finger inside me. I moan, but it sounds too human. You use a hand to smack my ass. “Bark,” you command. I look at you, incredulously. Bark? I try to moan less audibly. You smack me again. “I said bark, Princess,” you gently admonish. I let out a little yip, and then a moan of pleasure. You smack me again while keeping a constant pressure in my pussy. I yip again, and pleased, you take your thumb and rub it against my clit. I let out a string of yips and you add another finger. I’m cruising along towards orgasm, almost there, teetering on the brink, and then you stop. I yip sharply, in what I consider doggy language for ‘What the fuck!’ You laugh and offer me your fingers. I lick them, but I have my pouty face on. You run your hand down the length of my body again. “Later,” you say quietly in my ear. “Come on, girl,” you say, and we go back to the living room.
You flip on a movie, something old on the USA channel. You get my toy and throw it. “Fetch!” you say. I swear you are getting too much pleasure from this. I bound to the toy and bring it back to you, again and again. I swear dogs must say to themselves, ‘Geesh, if you want it so bad, don’t fucking throw it.’ It gets rather monotonous. You throw it and I turn, looking for it, but it isn’t anywhere. I can’t find the toy. “What’s the matter, Princess?” you ask, a smile in your tone. I turn to look at you. You’ve removed your shirt and pulled down your shorts. Your hard cock is jutting at me. “It’s right here, girl,” you say, indicating your cock. That’s all the invitation I need. I crawl to you, ready to play with this bigger, better, tastier toy. No hands though. I use my mouth and take you in, and you moan. I do this for some time, in and out and in and out. You grab my leash and hold me in position until you deem the correct time for air. I gasp for air and yip out my displeasure. That was a bit much. You just take your hand and lower my head back to the cock. I suck, bobbing my head, trying my best to pleasure you. You cum hard while holding my leash so that it hits the back of my throat. Your groan sends a sharp sword of desire running through my core. “Good girl,” you say, patting my head. “You’re such a good dog, Princess.” I settle on my doggie bed, and you continue to watch your movie.
I’m surprised then, when you tug on my leash about a half an hour later. I look at you, and you are hard again. You have that familiar gleam in your eye. You lead me to the bathroom, your hard cock bouncing as you walk. You sit down at the edge of the tub and I prepare to suck your cock again. You moan as I take you in my mouth. You are still pretty sensitive after your last orgasm. It takes a bit longer, more pressure, sucking you, licking you, deepthroating your cock, but I keep at it. You pull my mouth away as you start to cum. You cum on the floor. I look at you like you are the Grinch who just stole Christmas. That was my cum. I earned it. And you wasted it. You catch your breath and then you tug my leash. “Lick it up, girl,” you encourage. I look at you now like maybe you are crazy. You smile at me broadly, and then whisper in my ear, “I spent an hour today disinfecting the bathroom floor. It’s safe, pet. I wouldn’t let your present go to waste.” I bend down and lap up your cum. Obviously, you are pleased by this. “Good girl,” you say, and you finger my pussy again. I yip, because I know it’s expected. I’m so close again, but again, just before what promises to be a glorious orgasm, you stop. I whimper. “Soon,” is all you say.