Good Girl: Day One

Thanks to everyone who wrote asking me to repost this. I am disabled, but I will publish this series and other works as fast as I can edit.

"Who's a good girl?"

My husband looked down at me with a smirk of condescension spreading over his face. He stroked my hair playfully as I obeyed, my hands up near my naked breasts in fists mimicking a dog about to speak.

So far it wasn't so bad.

It was only a few minutes into my punishment. And all things considered, I'd probably gotten off lucky. A few weeks ago, Scott discovered I'd sent out a bunch of nude photos of myself. I had been having a sort of affair with a coworker.

It started out as some innocent flirtations around the office, and we never did anything though in person, even though he pressed. After I rejected anything more, he spread the photos around the office. Other than embarrassing the hell out of me, no one cared, so long as I still sold houses. But eventually someone decided to email my husband the pictures making their way across the office.

I didn't really have a reason for it. All in all, we had a good marriage. But it had been ten years. I don't know, I guess I never really felt like a knockout blonde. I hadn't put on much weight, but my breasts barely reached a B cup, and it was nice feeling all that attention again. Plus things in the bedroom, as they tend to do, had started to slow down. Not that there was really anything to complain about, we'd had our kinks and fetishes played out, but everything started to seem routine.

We talked. He yelled. I cried. I apologized. And then I asked them that fateful question.

"What can I do to get out of the doghouse?"

Poor choice of terms.

And he told me.

I understood, or at least I listened to how humiliated he felt, knowing that every person in our real estate office had seen my tight bubble butt filled with a butt plug while I put another toy in my bare pussy.

A few cheesecake photos, he might have understood, but to see me so willing to debase myself for another man... it made him feel completely emasculated.

I apologized again and again, but he cut me off.

"Karen. We've been over this. And I forgive you. We've been together for ten years. You sent out some pictures. Christ Karen, I wish you would have just told me. I mean, I'm frustrated too. The times we do have sex... you don't seem at all into it. It makes me feel unwanted. If it would have helped, you might have sent out pics to people all over the world. Just not people I have to fucking see. And now, every time I go to your office... Every time I look at Tiffany, or that smug prick Ryan, I'm going to think about you with that dildo. And whatever else I couldn't bring myself to see."

"Honey, you don't need to-"

"Just listen," He said forcefully.

I took a deep breath. I mean, he was capable of being forceful in the bedroom, but that was about it. Scott gave me a look that wasn't quite furious, but seemed close enough.

"Look, you humiliated me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Just... shut up... please let me get this out."

"Okay."

"I want to... no I need to do the same to you."

"You want to send pics out?"

"No, no nothing like that. I mean, I'm not about to start using toys on myself. And honestly I've always felt dick pics were more embarrassing to the guy."

"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about."

This was true. Scott's cock was nearly eight inches long, and thicker than any man I'd seen.

"It's not the same.... And you know it. So I want you to keep an open mind. It's not an ultimatum, I don't have that in me. But... well I don't want to call it close either. It's a way to make things right."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"You're going to take a week off. During that week, you're my bitch. I don't mean you are my sexy slave, or anything that nice. I mean I am going to treat you like an actual dog. You will walk on your hands and knees, you will eat and drink from a bowl, and you will obey every command, no matter how unseemly."

I could feel the tears start to well in my eyes.

"And... that will help?"

"I think so... if anything it will at least be something new sexually."

"You actually want this?"

He shrugged.

"Look, I mean it wasn't my thing at all. At first, I was kind of turned-off. But I read a few stories, a few personal accounts, and I guess it started to interest me. It's technically called pet-play, but I don't really have any desire to label it."

I felt like my gulp was audible.

"Okay, if you really want, I'll do it."

"Good. But if at any time you want to back out, simply say so, and it will stop. I can't say I won't be disappointed, but if it goes too far where you feel uncomfortable, I want you to stop it."

*****

It took some time for me to make arrangements at work, but finally the day came. I remember waking up alone, and finding the letter, typed barely legible in a small font taking up barely half the page.

Dear Bitch,

You can call this off at any time. Even right now. But if you chose to go through with this. Here are my initial ground rules.

1. You may not speak (words). Instead, yip, growl, bark, moan, whatever.

2. You will wear your collar at all times. Otherwise, no clothing.

3. You are not allowed on the furniture.

4. You will walk on your hands and knees. You may wear shoulder and elbow pads.

5. You may not pee without permission.

6. You will eat and drink when instructed.

7. You will obey ALL over master's commands.

I looked up at the door and saw a dangling dog collar and lead, with one of those cheap heart stones you can get a kiosk that read Bitch-Slut. I also saw black knee and elbow pads. I walked to the door and put each on, and then looked at the handle. Was I really willing to spend a week like this?

I took off my nightgown, and, summoning all my courage, reached at the doorknob and pulled, sinking to my knees as I crawled awkwardly out of our bedroom. I felt utterly ridiculously crawling down the hallway and into our living room, but Scott just smiled at me from the couch. My tits were too small to move much as I made my way awkwardly towards him, my legs barely working as I gave my best impression.

It was a weird, unnatural sort of smile, but I remember thinking that it was the first time he had shown me any affection in nearly a month.

"Who's a good girl?"

He stroked my hair playfully, and I found myself unconsciously nuzzling up to him. My naked butt responded to his gentle touch and I arched my back as he ran one hand through my hair and the other over up my rump to rub my back. It was weirdly sensual, him sitting, while I rubbed my body up against him. But it didn't seem quite natural.

"I see you found your lead," He said, in the same degrading voice.

I nodded.

"I want to hear your best bark," Scott said.

I tried my best, and came out with an odd sort of yip, barely even a sound.

"Was that your best?"

I nodded.

"You're going to have to speak up."

I wasn't quite sure what he wanted.

"I said SPEAK!"

I gave a slightly louder yip.

He shook his head in disgust and walked over to the dining room table, picking up a newspaper. He curled it up into a cylinder and struck me across the nose with it.

I recoiled in shock, only to have him slap me again.

"Are you going to behave?"

I whimpered.

SMACK!

"Do this right or not at all!"

SMACK!

"Now speak bitch slut!"

I gave my best bark.

"Much, much better. Now curl up against my feet."

I made myself prone, my nipples touching against his thighs as I curled up against him. Part of me couldn't believe it was happening, so I tried my best not to think about it. I hadn't been hurt, I guess I could sort of feel the sting from the paper, but it was really about the humiliation.

I swallowed my pride again as Scott taught me tricks. He started with sit, showing me how I was supposed to be up on my knees, my hands held in front of me like paws. Then I had to roll over while he rubbed my flat stomach, and pretend to enjoy it.

Finally, I had to fetch a tennis ball he threw across the room. Only when I tried to grab it with my hand, I heard his rough voice.

"Like a dog!"

I bit my lip before lowering my head. I tried to get my lips around the ball, only to have it skid away.

My jaw simply wasn't big enough.

"Go get it!"

I tried again, and still couldn't quite make it work. I was about to give up in frustration when my teeth caught a little of the yellow fuzz in my mouth. Trying again, I was able to catch hold of some of the fraying edges.

I pulled my head up and looked right at Scott, filled with a strange feeling of pride as I held the ratty, disgusting ball clenched in my teeth.

"Good girl..."

I stumbled a little, almost falling until I managed to drop the tennis ball into Scott's lap. Again, he patted my head and I looked up to see him smiling down at me.

He threw the ball a few more times and had me fetch it. Then he had me curl up at his feet while he watched a baseball game. It was weird. He never quite acknowledged me, though now and then he would touch my ass, or stroke my hair. I remember thinking this really wasn't so bad, and if a week of playing fetch and being smacked with a newspaper made him feel better, well I could do that.

A few hours passed like this, and I felt my stomach begin to growl. I hadn't eaten anything, I hadn't looked at the time, but I knew it was well past lunch. Scott got up at the commercial and went into the kitchen. I thought about sitting at the table, but remembered the rule and so just stayed next to the couch.

"Come here girl!" He called from the kitchen.

He was cooking bacon on the stove. I looked up expectantly, only to see him point at the two dog bowls sitting in the corner. One was filled with water, the other with dry cereal.

"Eat!"

I hesitated. This seemed too far. But then we didn't have a dog, or any pets. So he must have bought them new. It really wasn't so bad. I went to the water first, slowly lowering my face into the bowl. I shuddered a little as the tip of my nose touched the water. I tried to lick up the water with my tongue before giving up and noisily slurping up as much as I could. I pulled my head out of the bowl, and felt the water that missed my mouth run down my chin and neck.

"I want you to eat."

I didn't really find myself as hungry anymore, but I knew I had to obey. The fact that I had already come this far made it easier. I was a mess about it. My face was still wet with water, so some of the cereal stuck to my face. By the time I finished eating as much as I could, I could feel the pieces clinging to me. I looked up at him as he sat at the kitchen table, quietly laughing at how ridiculous I must have looked.

"Do you want some people food girl?"

I nodded.

"Speak."

I gave a yip, a little more naturally than before.

"Here you go..." He stretched out his hand, grabbing a piece of bacon as if to reach it across the kitchen for me.

Then he dropped it on the floor.

I glared at him.

"Be a good doggy and clean the floor."

I knew the tile had been cleaned. I'm pretty fastidious, some people would even call me a clean freak. He knew that, and the thought of eating something off the floor... of being subjected to that, it turned my stomach. I wrinkled my nose.

"DO IT!"

He startled me so bad, the next thing I knew, my lips were on the piece of meat and I was swallowing it as fast as I could chew.

"Good girl, such a good little bitch slut."

And there it was again, his hand on my head and he petted me.

He finished eating, feeding me a few times from his hand. Then he opened his fly, fishing out his cock through his jeans. He led me by my ponytail roughly under the table, until my mouth was level with his semi-hard cock.

"I want you to lick my dick," He said.

I started to put my lips around his head, only to feel the newspaper against my head.

"No, bitch. I don't want you to suck me like a human. You aren't a person anymore. You are my stupid bitch slut. So lick it, lap up and down my dick like a dog."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, even as I obeyed. I awkwardly stuck out my tongue, running it up and down his hardening cock. He grabbed me around the ears, making me slobbering like a bitch all over him. I drooled all the way down to his balls, as he rubbed my face all over his cock.

I was struggling to keep up. Now and then his dick almost accidentally jammed his way into my mouth. More and more he started deliberately fucking my face, holding me steady as he worked himself faster and faster, both in and out of my mouth, and up and down my face. My face was absolutely covered in saliva, and the beginning of tears, when he finally stopped and started stroking himself against my head.

Then he finished degrading me.

He aimed his dick right into my face, adding a large strand of cum to the mess of cereal, spit, water, and tears. I closed my eyes just in time as another sticky rope of cum landed on my eyelid. He kept cumming, covering almost every inch of my face.

"Good girl," He said. "Now keep licking Daddy."

I opened my eyes, blinking through the mix of cum and tears, and forced my tongue out of my mouth. I gave a pitiful whimper as I complied, though it was mostly him rubbing the head of his penis along my tongue. He grabbed at my lead, and pushed my head down where the cum had dripped off my face. He moved behind me, his hands spreading my legs and he started moving his finger around my clit.

"Bad girl, bad girl," I felt the newspaper on my ass now. "You made such a mess. And now my slut bitch is in heat."

I moaned in spite of myself. His index finger found exactly where I wanted to be rubbed, and even on the kitchen floor, underneath the table, my face in a pool of cum, I could feel my pussy ache for release. Only it wasn't just the touch, or the way my body reacted to being used. Something about being used so thoroughly, so independent of my own will, something about being so humiliated started to actually turn me on. I felt so disgusted, so ashamed at myself, and still I pushed my naked ass back against my husband, fucking myself on his fingers as they worked their way inside of me.

"Is my bitch in heat?"

I whimpered.

SMACK!

"Speak! Bark if my bitch needs to cum!"

"ARF!" I bellowed.

I was close now. I could feel the waves of pleasure about to crash over me. And then he stopped. He pulled his fingers out and just left, walking to the living room like nothing happened.

I collected myself, fought back another round of tears, and followed him into the living room. After a few minutes, I could feel another type of need coming from my used pussy. I needed to go... badly. I've always been one of those girls who needed to pee a lot, and Scott could tell something was wrong as I wriggled on the floor. I didn't know what to do. He hadn't given me instructions about using the bathroom, only that I needed to ask permission. But how to ask? I broke the act for a second, and even held my hand between my legs, whimpering softly as I looked up at him.

"Do you need outside?"

My eyes went wide. No way he could expect that! I mean, our yard did not even have a privacy fence... and we had neighbors on each side. It was broad daylight. I mean, there weren't any kids living next door, if you didn't count the Johnson's son, who had just started college.

"Do you need outside?"

I whimpered.

"You aren't going to have an accident inside the house."

I shook my head, my ponytail bouncing from shoulder to shoulder.

"Then go to the door, and wait for Daddy."

I didn't know what to do. I moved my knees back and forth, kneading the carpet as I tried to make up my mind what to do. For a few minutes I found myself shaking my ass back and forth, as though simply showing this state of desperation would make him relent. I moved my legs tight together, trying to hold back my full bladder. I could feel the pain against my abdomen and couldn't believe my husband would really allow me to pee myself right here on the carpet.

I started feel myself strain with the effort. My whole body was shaking. I clenched my legs together and bit my lip.

"You seem like you're struggling..." He teased.

"Please-" I started to beg.

"Good doggies don't talk!" His voice rose. "You can whine or bark, but don't you dare talk! You aren't a woman anymore! You are just my good girl, and I want my good girl to piss outside like the trained bitch she is!"

I gave a loud whine.

"Bark for me," He said.

"Woof," I mumbled.

"Louder!" He commanded.

"ARF!" I almost screamed.

"Go to the door," He said.

"ARF!" I tried again, feeling a drop or two of pee dripping down my leg.

"Go outside for a walk," He said, tugging at my lease.

I realized it was too late to argue. My bladder ached, my legs spasmed, I could barely crawl. It was humiliating. In all our kinkiest fantasies, watersports had never been even discussed. I wondered if this was something new he had seen watching pornography late into another sexless night. I put one padded knee in front of the other, slowly, trying to keep my inner thighs from trickling out any more piss.

And then it happened.

I couldn't hold back anymore. My face turned red with the first trickles starting their way down my thighs. For a second, I thought I could make it to the door, maybe squat down on the porch and rinse it off later. But it was too late....

The small spurts as I tried to hold back soon became a torrent of urine. I couldn't control it anymore, and simply spread my legs trying to keep too much of the piss from splashing against my thighs. I stayed on my hands and knees, my ass shaking with embarrassment. I couldn't believe it. Here I was on my hands and knees in my own living room, pissing on the carpet like an untrained mutt.

The last few drops seemed to shake out of me, coming out in small spurts. The last drops of urine ran down my legs, and for the second time that day the tears started welling in my eyes. I looked down and saw the large spot of pee now stained into the carpet.

"Bad girl!" He said gruffly.

Looking down at the dark spot on the floor I knew it was true. And even knowing it was him making me do it, I wanted to make it up to him. I wanted my master, my daddy, my husband to call me a good girl again. After all, in a symbolic way, this was the point of this week.

"You made a piddle all over Daddy's carpet! Bad girl!"

He picked up his newspaper again and struck me on the ass several times, telling me over and over again...

"Bad girl! Bad, bad, bad!"

And then the worst. He grabbed me by the ponytail, pulling me back and forcing my head down into the soaked carpet. I tried to resist, but he was too strong. My husband was literally rubbing my nose in my own accident. I could smell the strong scent of urine and even taste it in my mouth.

"Stay there!"

My hands were lying flat on the carpet. I turned and felt the wetness on my cheek. He moved behind me, his strong hand keeping a handle a on my neck, making sure that I inhaled every scent as he smeared my piss all over me. He adjusted himself, forcing my legs apart, and then it happened.

In doggystyle, my face in a puddle of my own piss, still stained with his dried cum on my face, my husband rammed his big dick into my pussy. He wasn't gentle, but somehow I was wet enough to accept him. My pussy almost gushed with excitement, and despite everything I should have been feeling, all the anger, disgust, and shock, I moaned like a bitch in heat. It wasn't making love, it wasn't even fucking, not really. Yet it somehow turned me on. And then he named it.

"I'm going to breed my little bitch now," He growled, pushing himself deeper inside of me. "You are just a bitch in heat aren't you?"