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Chapter Six
James watched her jaw drop and wondered if he’d made a huge mistake.
He’d laid out the newly purchased gear on the pool table so she could see each piece. The headband with the fluffy, pointed ears, the mittens and booties in the same gray-tipped white fur. He hadn’t been able to get a pair of knee pads to match, but they were gray, and they’d keep her knees from getting rug-burned and sore. Then there was the collar, the leash, and lastly, the butt plug decorated with a fluffy white tail.
“You’re kidding,” she finally said, and though her voice held shock, he was relieved there was no revulsion or anger.
He kept his own voice steady and calm. “Nope. Dehumanization day is puppy play day.”
“Puppy play.” She swallowed, her eyes on the array of gear.
“Do you hate the idea?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I don’t hate it. It’s like…toast.”
“Toast?”
“Yeah. Nobody hates toast, nobody loves toast. It’s just…toast.”
He stifled a laugh. “You’re not saying no, then.”
“I’m not saying no.” She lifted her confused gaze to his. “I just don’t understand what this is supposed to do.”
“It’s supposed to allow us to find out if dehumanization is something you enjoy.” He held up the ears, smothering a laugh when her eyes followed them, her throat bobbing as she swallowed.
“Okay.” She wiped her palms on the robe, her eyes still locked on the ears. “What are the rules?”
“Simple,” he said, and reached out to slip the headband over her dark cap of hair. “You’re a puppy. If a puppy would do it, you can do it. If a puppy wouldn’t do it, neither can you.”
Her eyes were like saucers. “What about my safeword?”
“For yellow, it’ll be the same as when you’re gagged, with a little puppy twist. Three barks, or,” he said, his eyes twinkling at her, “you pound your paw three times.”
“Funny,” she muttered, but her cheeks were flushed, and her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. “And for red?”
“For red, you can break character and just say red.”
She nodded. “For how long?”
He reached for the belt on her robe, moving slowly to give her plenty of time to stop him, and slipped the knot free. “All day.”
“Allday?” she squeaked and didn’t even twitch when the robe pooled on the floor.
He stroked his hands down her arms to take her hands. “We’re at home, just the two of us.” He’d wanted low stakes, and low pressure. “You don’t have to worry about anything this afternoon except accessing your inner puppy.”
“My inner puppy?” She sputtered, the ears on her head bouncing with the bob of her head. “I’m going to feel ridiculous, James.”
“If you do, you do.” He squeezed her hands, then released them and turned back to the table. “It’s just another role play, after all. Right?”
“Right.” She stared at the mittens he held out. “What’re those?”
“Paws,” he said with a grin. “Hold out your hands.”
She giggled, making the ears bounce again, but she held out her hands and let him fit the mits on. They were soft, lined with flannel to keep her hands warm and safe, with Velcro straps at the wrist to hold them in place. He’d seen plenty of options online with buckles or even locks, but figured for this scene the Velcro was a better option. He had no idea how she’d react to this, and wanted to be able to get her out of them quickly if he had to.
“How do they feel?”
She lifted her hands, the fur rippling as she flexed her fingers inside the mitts. She turned them around to look at their palms, giggling again when she saw the small patches of pink vinyl that mimicked the pads of a dog’s paw.
