AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He made sure the plug was slickly coated, then tucked the bottle away and set a hand on her tailbone. “Stay,” he ordered, and pressed the tip of the plug to her anus.
She jerked, an instinctive reaction to both the cool plug and the sudden pressure. He raised his hand and delivered a short, hard slap to one cheek. “I said stay,” he reminded her sternly, and slowly, steadily, pushed the plug home.
She accepted it with relative ease, the ring of muscle stretching to accommodate the wider middle before clamping down on the narrow neck and drawing it firmly into place. “What a good girl you are,” he murmured, “taking that in your pretty little hole so beautifully.”
A shiver raced over her skin—whether from the plug settling into place or the words, he wasn’t sure. He wiggled the base a bit, making sure it was well seated, then slid his fingers down to skim them over her soft, pretty pussy.
She was wet, and though he knew some of it was the lube that had dripped down from her anus, when he slipped his fingers forward and found her clit already firm and engorged, he grinned. It wasn’tallthe lube.
“Aren’t you an eager girl,” he marveled, and pleased himself by giving her clit a soft flick.
She jerked, her high whine mixing with the jangle of the bell, and he chuckled.
“Don’t worry, pet. We’ll get to that.” He pulled his fingers free, ignoring both her disappointed wiggle and his own impatience. He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped his hands clean, then picked up her tail and attached it to the plug with a soft click.
“There.” He rose to his feet, surprised at how aroused he was. When her butt gave a little twitch and made the tail swish, he laughed, delighted. “What a pretty puppy I have.”
He grabbed the leash off the pool table and circled around so he stood in front of her once again. He bent down to clip the leash to the D ring in her collar, frowning when she flinched at the clank of metal on metal.
He gave the leash a small tug. “Look at me, Mandy girl,” he said, and she looked up. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She was breathing hard but struggling to hide it, her lips parted as she panted.
“Take a breath, girl,” he told her, pleased when she immediately complied. He ignored the way her breasts swayed enticingly with the movement, concentrating instead on her eyes, and the anxiety lurking in their soft depths. “Good girl. We’re just having fun, okay? There’s no pressure, no expectations. It’s just a quiet Saturday at home.”
She sucked in another breath, blowing it carefully out, and nodded.
“Good girl,” he murmured again. “Remember, yellow is three yips or thumps of your paw, and use your voice for red.”
She nodded again, one ear flopping forward with the action, and he smiled. “Okay. Let’s go upstairs and get some lunch.”
He let the grin come when her eyes went wide and gave the leash a gentle tug. He began slowly walking toward the stairs, and she scrambled to crawl along behind him.
* * * *
While James made lunch at the kitchen island, Amanda sat on her haunches at his feet, her mitten-covered hands on the floor in front of her, and tried to wrap her brain around her current predicament.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about being a dog, quite frankly, and though the gear was comfortable, it felt strange to be wearing it. The headband slid over her hair every time she moved, and the ears were heavy enough to flop around without pulling it off her head. If she turned her head sharply, she could catch their tufted white tips out of the corners of her eyes. The paws were super soft and felt the most familiar, and if she didn’t think about it, she could almost pretend she had mittens on her hands and socks on her feet. But every time she glanced down, she was reminded that these were dog paws.
She picked up a hand—paw—and turned it over to see the circles of pink vinyl stitched into the fur. She wondered idly if she stepped in mud, then onto the floor, if she’d leave a paw print behind.
She set her hand—dammit,paw—back on the floor and glanced up at James. He was engrossed in whatever he was making and paying her no attention, so she went back to her mental inventory.
The plug felt familiar as well. She particularly enjoyed anal play, and it wasn’t rare for her to wear a plug for a scene or even a day around the house, if James was in a tormenting mood. She rose from her haunches onto all fours and wiggled her butt experimentally. She could feel the plug inside her, shifting and rubbing and activating all those nerves that seemed to be wired directly to her clit. None of that was new, but the tail swishing against her buttocks and the backs of her thighs was.
She wiggled again, concentrating on the sensation of the tail against her skin. The fur was baby soft, and the tail curled down a bit so it brushed against the lower curves of her buttocks and her upper thighs. It felt weird, she decided, and it tickled a bit. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it wasn’t diminishing her enjoyment of the plug at all. In fact, just the opposite.
God, she was so turned on.
She turned to look over her shoulder, and the bell on her collar jingled musically with the movement. She caught a glimpse of white fur at the base of the tail, where it clipped onto the plug—she’d have to take a look at that when this was all over, to see how it all went together—but the rest of the tail was hidden from view. She gave her hips a hard side-to-side shake this time, wanting to see the tail swish, and grinned when it swung into view.
God, this is weird. And hot. Why is this so hot?
James’s soft laugh had her swinging back around to face him, the collar once again jingling musically. He was looking at her, his eyes amused, his mouth curled in a soft smile. “Somebody likes her tail,” he said mildly, and she looked down as her cheeks heated.
She did like her tail, she realized, and she had no idea how to feel about that.
He laughed again, sent her a wink, and went back to his lunch preparations.
She waited a beat, then sat back on her haunches. He’d pulled a package of deli meat out of the refrigerator, so she was pretty sure he was making a sandwich. But it was slightly annoying that her position at his feet didn’t allow her to see exactly what he was doing. It was even more annoying that he was paying her no more attention than he would, well, a dog.
