Good Girl: Day Five

It would have been too easy to label everything that has happened as Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe some other mental health disorder emanating from four days of mental and physical abuse. I suppose that any shrink would have had a field day with me on the couch, analyzing all the repressed desires and latent tendencies that went into consenting to this elaborate and demeaning roleplay.

For the entire week, I had agreed to behave like a dog.

I had thirty minutes or so to clean out my bottom for the tail-shaped butt plug that was almost permanently inserted in my ass. I showered (a luxury compared to being hosed off in the yard), did my make-up (creating whiskers and button nose), and put up my hair in juvenile poofy pigtails.

And in less than the time allotted, I had already shaken off any semblance of who I was and returned to the pet pad and blankets that I had slept on through the night, waking only to hear my husband fuck the secretary one more time.

I'd barked softly at the door, letting out small, quiet yips, hoping that they would again bring me in the room to act as little more than a fluffer. I knew enough about erotica to have an idea about the whole cuckold fetish and know that I was experiencing the reverse. There was something so sensual about the infidelity, about knowing what a stud my husband was that made me quiver with anticipation every time I thought about him driving his dick into her sweet pussy.

I'd come so far from his first suggestion.

Originally, I had agreed to this idea under duress, convinced my husband would leave me after sending a bunch of nude pictures to a coworker. Of course, it got back to Scott and everyone in the office, until I thought I might have to quit my job and start over. I guess the starting over part actually happened.

Our sex lives had been suffering after ten years of marriage. Part of me wondered if this was just the worst sort of sadism, to push my limits, to have me broken so completely no one would want me.

Only he seemed to want me...

Warmth and affection, filtered through these tiny touches began again. I had started the violation, even if he had escalated it, but now we were almost equally culpable in what was happening. Sure he had fucked another woman, but so had I. Tiffany had made me spend the night, fucking me with a collection of toys, proving to me her superiority.

Not that I wasn't pretty.

Blonde, petite, breasts that were enough to grab, but nothing I could be too cocky about. Tiffany was different, dark-haired, curvy, with wide hips and large, hypnotic breasts. It made me weirdly proud that my husband could seduce such a girl.

I started to feel that this submission was my way of equaling Tiffany's natural gifts. Though I didn't have her natural dominance and overwhelming allure, I would do whatever they told me. Now that we both had stepped outside our marriage, anything seemed possible for the day. I would do whatever they thought for me, no matter how humiliating or degrading, relishing in my new role as a submissive slut.

I didn't have a firm concept of the time, but more than anything I needed to empty my bladder. I whined at the door a little, trying to get their attention, but I had an idea of what they wanted. Before putting me to bed, they'd laid out newspapers on the floor, TIffany telling me that they might not be able to get to me in time before I had an accident.

As I tried to squeeze my legs shut, needing to let loose, I had the feeling this might be their intention. Maybe it was just an excuse, a rationalization for making myself go on the newspaper, but after clenching for an eternity, I gave in to the desperation.

Keep in mind, even with my puppy paws, padded gloves without fingers that velcroed over my wrists, I easily might have made a human decision. I could have used my mouth to free my hands and sat down on the toilet like an actual girl. Instead, I whimpered, whined, and threw my head and shoulders against the door a few times before I finally gave in.

The distinctive sound of my urine dripping down onto the newspaper reminded me of Chinese Water Torture, the sound of each droplet striking the paper hammering into my brain how deep my depravity went. In the closed room, I could smell my urine wafting up from the long streaks over the scattered pages of the Houston Chronicle,

Then I just had to live with the shame, every second my nostrils reminding me what I did squatted over in the corner of the room until Daddy and Mommy decided to let me out.

"Oh poor thing, she had an accident Daddy," Tiffany said.

I should have scowled. I'd been left there for the night. Instead, I rushed up to my Mommy's feet, giddy to see her just like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home. I wallowed in her attention, rubbing my mouth and nose up against her porcelain thighs. I started licking at her without really thinking of it, my head craning until I parted the barely closed nightgown and tasted her pussy...

Sticky and sopping with my husband's cum.

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn today," Mommy cooed.

She patted my head as I licked desperately at her pussy, the tail protruding from my bottom wagging with excitement. I forget myself, devouring her dripping pussy, so thrilled that my husband had spent so much of himself inside her.

I would have kept at it, had she not pulled me back by my collar.

"Okay, okay, good girl," Mommy said. "It's okay, Daddy and I have plans for you later."

As surreal as it may sound, I was already strangely accustomed to my morning routine. I ate my breakfast (eggs and bacon) from a dog bowl on the floor, gulping down water from an identical dish next to it. Then I was walked into the backyard where I peed on our tree before they took me to work.

There had already been some sort of agreement made with the owner of our reality company. Mr. Johnson had cleared out the staff and scheduled appointments only with those who were in on the act. I knew every hand, every face as they degraded me, so far only by doing the odd roleplay scene. I would have to fetch several toys: a knotted up rope, a tennis ball, a squeaky stuffed animal. They would pat my bottom, mocking me, running their hands over my nipples.

Worst of all was seeing the glee my crush took at doing the same thing. Ryan didn't want me because of some emotional connection. Like every other man in the office, he treated me like I was just for fucking and tossing aside, another conquest.

But I was used to being degraded with this now-familiar task. The only part of my day that still frightened me involved the walk from the driveway to the car, where I would be paraded out as the pet for every neighbor to see.

It's not like I knew any of them; well except the neighbor who had helped my husband spank me. Even so, the fact that everyone around would know exactly the way I was used still rocked me to the core. I shuffled quickly towards the car, the cool air-hardening my nipples, worried as always about being approached by the police and charged with indecent exposure or worse.

The hardest part was crawling into the backseat. I needed to cheat a little, using my arm for a little leverage. My butt hung out of the car for a second while I clumsily almost lost my footing, exposing me for just a moment longer. Then Scott and Tiffany were in the car, talking absently while driving me towards the office.

"So they did finish it?"

"Exactly to her size," Scott said.

"Do we have to wait?" Tiffany said. "I'm ready right now.."

"You just got fucked," Scott said. "I'm sure you can wait a little."

I wondered what they could mean, but I did remember Mr. Johnson measuring me like a perverted tailor, making sure he got everything from my breasts to my ass. I couldn't imagine how that would matter and blissfully went back to enjoying the ride.

I did dog things. It was becoming so much more natural, soothing even. I looked out the window, seeing people on the street, not caring whether or not anyone noticed me nude in the backseat of the SUV. The trip passed quickly enough, then I was led into the backdoor of the office.

Everyone stopped whatever they were pretending to be working on, some standing up or adjusting the angle to watch as I entered the room on my hands and knees. I blushed, not quite embarrassed. I'd done this before already. Instead, I wondered when everyone would just get used to seeing me led into the room naked, done up like a dog with ears and tail.

Maybe three days was too soon to expect anything other than the heavy breathing.

As usual, I was led around by my collar, the end complete with a rhinestone. I expected to be walked around, patted and pinched, completely used to being demeaned in such a fashion. I put one hand in front of the other in a practiced pose, actually feeling somewhat confident about my new role in life. I was taken care of, freed from responsibility for this time, all I had to do was obey.

Plus, I saw myself in the mirror. I looked good, sexy even despite the dog costume. No, because of the outfit. Without clothes, my breasts stood out a little more, my bottom seemed to show a little more curve. I was less like a 10-year-old's idea of themselves grown-up and more like an actual woman. And those things, the little bulge below my belly button or the weird arch of my ankles no longer matter.

I felt a sense of complete freedom for a brief second before it began.

Things started with Paul.

Other than Ryan, Paul was probably the most attractive man at the Real Estate company. He was blonde, in his early thirties, married and generally one of the kindest men I'd ever met. I didn't begrudge him from joining in with the humiliation - who could resist? But as Tiffany and Scott walked hand and hand, leading me around the room, my head cocked and paused, my eyes wide with an indignant shock.

I couldn't make out much of his dick, but Paul was clearly masturbating.

And instead of moving away, my Mommy was pulling my lead towards him, yanking on my neck, my knees burning against the carpet as I nearly refused to go.

Somehow I knew...

I'd been wrestling with the decision for days now, terrified that Scott would whore me out to different people in the office. It was one thing to be taken by the sexy secretary who worked in the office - another to fuck another man. Sex is sex... but there was something different about sharing a woman. There are so many more consequences from cum.

I inched forward, my nose almost touching the fist as he worked it up and down his oversized head. Paul wasn't too big, his hand almost covered his cock entirely, but he was thick. He grunted, pulling on himself more and more, his hand working feverishly over himself. I was so close now, Tiffany pulling me closer until I could nearly feel the condensation from my rapid, panicked breaths.

She held me by the back of the head, her fingers embedded in my hair. I looked on, transfixed, immobile. Unable and unwilling to stop what was happening. My eyelids stretched wide, the black dots in my eyes reflecting off the shiny, already cum-smeared head moving touching my bottom lip, pulling it down and crying for an opening.

I cringed, then tried to relax, just a little, enough for a small, gaping hole.

Enough for him to shove his cock through.

He went down my throat in one motion, his mushroom head the only part that proved difficult to take. The length quickly became managed, as though the five or six inches he had still let air pass down my esophagus. Still I retched, almost choking as he rammed it deep inside of me, careless and thoughtless to my own desires or needs. He pumped his hips against me, rattling my jaw as he fucked my face.

And I reacted like a domesticated animal, accepting my fate and doing my best to please the more dominant beast bucking into me. I drooled, slurping and swallowing, trying to make him finish. There was no excitement in this for me, I just prayed this would please Mommy and Daddy. The head of his dick thudded against my cheek, alternating between sides of my mouth as he pushed it in and out.

Then a hand reached out and touched my pussy, fingers exploring then entering, forcing me to give out a started yip.

For a second, the hands on my head let go, giving me the chance to turn around to see Daddy entering my glistening hole. Relieved, I returned to the cock in front of me, starting to enjoy the sensation as he added lube to his fingers, stretching me out with each subsequent digit. Soon he had what felt like three fingers inside of me, reading me for what was about to happen next.

I heard the unfastening of his belt, then felt the head of my husband's cock nestled against my pussy. He was near his knees, somehow able to find the right spot by letting one knee drip past the other. I took in a deep breath around the cock in my mouth, struggling to suck and take it when he plowed into me.

Scott was big, a little over seven inches. Sometimes it was hard to take, especially if I hadn't been warmed up properly beforehand. There had never been the spontaneity seen during sex in the movies, where the leading actor just holds up the woman and shoves his cock into her. Doing that to me would have been so painful.

Only now I took him with such ease I wondered why he had even bothered with the lube. My pussy swallowed him up grateful, barely feeling the thud as he pushed into me. My ass cheeks ground back against him, letting him direct me with a strong hand around my thigh. Tiffany moved down to tweak my nipples, occasionally rubbing my clit.

I was awash in pleasure, relieved to know my husband would still fuck me. It would have been the cruelest punishment to use me like this for a week only to trade me in for a girl like TIffany once I'd been completely ruined and ripped of any self-respect. That he wanted me, that his cock ached with desire for me based on what I was doing as his dog, ratcheted up nearly a week of foreplay.

"Do you like this?" Daddy said.

I tried to let out a bark, but my mouth was muffled.

"I think that's a yes," Paul laughed.

"You've been pleasing Daddy so good this week," Scott said. "You've obeyed so much. But Daddy wants to take you as far as you'll go."

Paul pulled out for a second, giving me a chance to gasp greedily.

"Speak Kaykay!" Tiffany commanded.

"ARF! ARF! ARF!"

God, if I had seen myself a year - no, even a few weeks ago. Make-up done like a pretty little doggy, my hair done-up in girlish pigtails complete with puppy ears, a tail butt plug rammed further inside my ass with every thrust. And on the other side, sucking another man's dick without so much as a word of complaint.

I had been so proud, willing to look down on girls like Tiffany who worked as secretaries in male-dominated fields. Now here I was on my hands and knees, being passed around the office, every ounce of pride gone.

And I was better off for it.

I came with a loud whine, not daring to stop servicing either dick. It didn't matter how they used or abused me, I wanted everything. I was willing to do anything to make Mommy and Daddy happy - to have them keep using me in whatever way they wanted, so long as they didn't just ignore their puppy and fuck in our martial bed.

With my orgasm fading to a dull roar, I could focus again on what Scott was whispering as he drove faster into my cunt.

"That's it girl. Enjoy it Kaykay. It's the last orgasm I'm going to give you until this is over..."

My mind reeled, my pussy already revving up again for multiple climaxes. I knew that Daddy would use me like this, keeping my orgasm as a treat, a reward for behavior. But I couldn't imagine not being allowed to cum, forbidden from enjoying my own body.

"Don't you dare cum without asking," He grunted. "I want to hear three distinct barks before you cum."

I moaned, already feeling like the next thrust might drive me over the edge.

"Show me how you are going to bark when you need to cum!"

And for a second, I had control over my own mouth.

"Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!"

"Good girl," Daddy said. "I'm going to get you close first. Then you can decide. You can spend the next two days desperate, humping the floor, the couch, trying to give yourself an orgasm or..."

Shamefully, I already knew I would take whatever the other option was, no matter how disgraceful.

"Or... you can get fucked by everyone here," Daddy said. "You can spend the next week as the office slut, with cum in every one of your holes until you think you can't take anymore. Everyone here will fuck you roughly, whenever they want, leaving you filled with cum."

Oh god, everyone?

Even Mr. Johnson...

I couldn't!

But could I possibly control myself?

"Don't answer yet, I'm going to get you close first."

They both pounded into each end of me, spitroasting me in front of the entire office. Again I lost myself to lust, forgetting everything except the building intensity in my pussy. I couldn't believe how far he was taking this, and how willing I was to forsake everything about my character in pursuit of my own climax.

I knew what my decision would be.

I just didn't have the strength to make it right away.

"Oh God, Scott I'm so close," Paul breathed. "I'm about to cum, I'm about to cum down your wife's throat."

"Good," Scott grunted.

"It won't be the last," TIffany said, rubbing her fingers between my legs. "It's alright Kaykay. We love what a slut you are. Mommy is still going to take care of you, no matter what you decide."

Somehow, that caring bit of reassurance was enough to push me over the edge. I was so close, my pussy began to ache. I was just about to reach the edge, I pulled back my mouth, retreating from the cock for just a second.

"Fuck, come here..." Paul said.

"RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!"

"Don't you dare cum yet," Daddy growled.

And I felt a sharp slap from Tiffany on my clit, just hard enough to stop my crescendo. I cowered, trying to keep my legs together, to stop myself from coming without permission. In front of me, Paul was stroking himself, his head popping into my mouth again for a few more thrusts.

"God, I'm so close," Paul said.

I was about to cum again. I squirmed, needing it so bad that a dull throb echoed from my cunt to the back of my brain. I shook, pulling back, my head coming free of Paul's cock again.

"RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!"

"Come here... fuck too late..."

Rope after rope of cum splayed out along my face, trailing down my button nose, covering my chin and the whiskers drawn on my cheeks. I tried to look away, but Mommy's hand went to my chin, keeping me fixed in place as he emptied himself on my face.

"Stay still Kaykay. You didn't swallow so you at least owe Paul a facial."

God, a few weeks ago I wouldn't have even let my husband cum on my face. There was something so demeaning and degrading about it. But I was beginning to understand that as the appeal. Paul stroked a little more, spraying once or twice more until the spasm from his slit became little more than a drop. Then he shoved his cum-covered head back into my mouth for one last second.

"Good girl," He said, patting my head while still in my mouth.

He pulled back, giving me the chance to communicate my desperation.

"You never liked cum on your face before Kaykay, what changed? Why are you so hot now that you are a puppy?"

I didn't know what had come over me. My head rolled around, the semen splashing down from my face and onto the floor in front of me.

"Oh God, look at the mess she's making..." Mommy said. "Such a bad girl. You know we really should have trained her better. I suppose I've been spoiling her."

And then her hand went to the back of my neck, forcing me down onto the floor where the droplets of cum had collected on the carpet. She rubbed my nose in it, ignoring the fact that by doing so she was only adding more ejaculate to the area.