Man's Best Friend
by Slowman_44@hotmail.com

  Ok, I have been exploring a theme here. My thanks to Emily, Resta, Monica, Elizabeth, Sheri, and everyone else who has offered support and ideas. I promise to get to all the requests as soon as possible. (Let me know if you want them posted here, or sent directly to you.) (Ah, do I have to say that these stories are fantasies, and no actual genitalia were harmed during the creative process?)

  Man's Best Friend

  Ok, so I don't like dogs. The small ones are little rat things that scurry about leaving brown spots in deep pile carpet. The large ones are man-eating carnivores that leave toxic-waste dumps. And I view them as competition. Let me explain. I am a sub. Which means my girlfriend (when I am lucky enough to have one) is a dom. Heaven for me is to putter about on all fours with a collar on and my tongue hanging out. Boy do I love my tongue hanging out, and in. My favorite food is a box lunch at the Y. There are a hell of a lot more men who are sub than women who are dom, so I have prepared my self to be something of a catch. I keep slim (some say skinny). I cook damn good. I learned massage...not the "oh let me rub your back" kind either. Honest-to-god go to school and learn which muscles are where and how to relax them kind of massage. I read books on orgasms. I do tongue exercises (lay back, put an upside down shot glass on my lips, and do 100 pushups)...but you get the idea. My last girlfriend dumped me for a dog. She said the dog could run with her in the park, had a longer tongue and smelled better (come on!). So fido was in and I was out on the street. I hear she lives with a woman now who licks better than the dog does, but that does not change anything. It was the dog that got me kicked out, which is why I don't like dogs. Well I didn't like dogs, but now I really can't stand them. Not after today. Let me explain.

It took me a while to find a new girlfriend. I tried all the expected places, clubs, on line, friends-of-friends, and met a whole bunch of women who looked the part.  Don't get me wrong, I had lots of girls who were interested, but they all wanted a normal relationship. All of them appreciated my oral attention and sensitive nature, and all were more than willing to sleep with me. But not one really wanted to dom me, which is something I have given up a lot for. Though apparently not enough (that, in the business, is called foreshadowing). Eventually I did find a woman who appreciated all of my talents, and the funny thing was that she did not look the part. Attractive, but not beautiful, and about my age. Bossy in a quiet way. I always did exactly what she wanted, and worked on anticipating what those wants were. She fell into the habit of expecting me to be there, expecting me to server her. It was her idea to move in, just like it is always her idea on food, entertainment, and sex. Sex for her that is. Sex for me is much less important (as I have been told) and less important still after today (see, that's foreshadowing again). A typical day for me is to get up half an hour before my mistress, and make coffee. She eats toast, or nothing at all in the morning, so after it is on I return to wake my owner up by licking her to orgasm. I know exactly how she likes it, and try to make her cum more than once before her alarm goes off. If she has to hit the snooze to allow me to finish I am punished that night. God forbid my attentions make her late for work. Seriously. I did that once, and needed a week to recover. You see my mistress is every bit as kinky as I am, but with a whole lot more imagination. Which brings us to today. Saturday.

 The idea was that I was going to get to cum. Like I said, not a big deal, since my real love is serving my mistress. But you kind of miss things you have not had for a while, and it had been a very long time since my mistress had brought me to orgasm. Every time she has done so in the past it has been part of a long intense session that left me empty, in a whole lot of pain, and not eager to ask that it be repeated soon. The last time we had done this she tied me to the bed on my back, with my legs pulled up over my head spread as wide as she could get them. She spent at least an hour fucking me in the ass with everything she owns (a collection that ought to be in the Smithsonian) till I was making little girl sounds begging her to stop. Nonetheless the constant stimulation on my prostate had given me a hard on that actually hurt by the time we were ready for the climax (to coin a phrase). The next part was typical of her: efficient, original, and incredibly painful. She wrapped my cock and balls together with duct tape to make an obscenely thick cock, then slid an oversized condom over the whole thing for lubrication. Then she mounted me. I did not know that could be done, though at the time my amazement was hidden my my shrieks of pain. The love of my life can go for hours, and did this time. I know I came, but I must have been asleep when it happened, event though I was awake for most of it, and she said she always woke me before continuing. I had no interest in sex for quite a while afterward, but fell even deeper in love with my owner. Which is I guess what makes me a sub. So anyway another birthday or something had passed for me, and she was feeling frisky, and it had been a long time. So when she told me to get naked and report to the kitchen I knew what was coming. Me. It started out ok, with her pulling the kitchen table apart about 6 inches and having me lay down on it so that my cock and balls dangled through the opening. Then my arms and legs were tied to the legs of the table so I could not move. She then tied a thin cord around my nuts, and hung a milk jug from the cord. She ran a small hose from the jug to the kitchen faucet, and turned the water on slow. As the jug filled up, she began to hit me with a thin leather belt she uses when she really wants to make me jump. Of course each jerk made my nuts hurt more, which was, I think, her point. Things were just getting warm and my cock was getting rock hard, and there was a knock at the front door. Usually we ignore interruptions like that, but since we had started so early (wanting to make a day of it she said) she just turned off the water, shoved a gag in my mouth, mumbled an obscenity and headed for the door. I heard a small voice announce "Girl Scout Cookies", and "wait a minute" as my mistress headed for the sunroom to get her purse. There must have been a problem with the order, cause she ended up talking to the cookie girl for a long time. And that must have been when the dog got out. Did I forget to mention the dog?

 Outside the house we are a normal couple. Or at least we look like one. And we have friends, and friends go on trips, and friends leave their little rat dogs with friends. I put up such a fuss about having the mutt in the house with us that my mistress promised to keep it in the sunroom. Then she beat the hell out of me for voicing my opinion on the topic. Which made me love her even more, which made me think getting on the table was a good idea. Which was where I was when the dog found me. Honest to god, I never did anything to that damn dog. But the little fur balls seem to know when you don't like them, and he knew it was my fault he was restricted to the sunroom instead of having the run of the house, never mind the fact that he was using my dish as a dinner plate. So I knew what it was when I heard the click of nails on the kitchen floor. I think the little fur ball was attracted to the string and jug assembly first. Anyway that was what he began pulling on. Did you ever play pull with a dog? (I haven't, but I understand that some people think its fun...the weirdoes.) So here is the dog pulling as hard as it can on the cord. The jug half full of water swinging and adding weight. Me screaming at the top of my lungs. Remember the gag? Apparently it works. The next thing I had a clear image of was the splash as the jug hit the floor, and the yip of the dog as it backed against the wall, startled by the whole thing when the cord broke. I couldn't see the rat as it stood there, tapping its nails against the linoleum barking at its toy. I could tell that it was working up the nerve to counter attack, which gave me lots of incentive to work my way loose. In hindsight that was a tactical error, because it must have made my cock, and the offending cord, jump around. My first clue that it was a bad idea came when I felt the dog's teeth on my penis. Apparently the damn thing could just reach my cock by jumping, and he was getting his revenge by biting me each time he did. Ok, I don't like dogs. I admit it. And Karma comes around. But tell me what I did that deserved a half-pound furry slipper with teeth chewing off my cock? I don't know how long this went on.... I tend to lose focus during these times. I do remember the feeling him dangle from it for a time, and the pain stopping for a bit after that. I guess that was when the biggest part of my dick fell off (the little shit ate it!). That was also when my mistress came back.

 Ok, I love her, and I think she loves me. I think she does. But I was not prepared for her to pick up the dog and make cooing sounds as she asked what was going on. "What is my little man up to?" she asked. "Did you make this mess?"

Putting the dog back down I saw her squat down and examine the damage. "You will not believe this, but the cord is acting like a tourniquet. Well, I had planned to make the day special for you, I guess I have. But let's see what else we can come up with." The next part was pure mistress. She got the small step stool, and slid it under the table next to my ball. "Din-din!", she said, and the dog tap tap tapped up the steps.

"Din-din!", she said again, and wiggled my balls. News flash for all you BB fans. You do NOT want this to happen to you. I don't care what you think your pain threshold is. I was not awake when she got rid of the dog, and not up and about when the owner came to pick the rat up. I did hear her say that the dog did not need to be fed because I had giving him some fresh meat.

 Tomorrow we will decide if the homemade sutures are adequate, or if we have to make a trip to a real doctor. Tonight I realize I love my owner even more than I though possible (I told you, I am a sub). I am worried though. While holding me tonight my mistress complained that she doubted she could come up with anything that good to do to me in the future. THAT GOOD?! Damn I hate dogs.