Into the Dog House Ch. 02

She turned her attention back to the cage, and offered a smile.

"You really do look adorable in there," she said. "But I wanna get a proper look at you. Can you be good?"

At a loss, Gregory knelt there uncertainly -- before some inspiration struck, and he wiggled his hips, letting the tail flop back and forth.

"Oh, good boy," Rachel gushed, all sudden brightness and sunshine, setting the bag aside on the couch as she approached, sinking down to her knees in front of him again. He could smell her through the bars, bodywash and soap. Her nightdress rode up her thighs in this position, and all he wanted was for the cage door to disappear and let him roll her under him. "My good little doggie."

She put her hand on the latch again, and said, "And if you don't remember you're a good little doggie when he's out of his big cage, then guess who isn't coming out of his little cage."

And one last detail -- that little silver key was still hanging off the chain around her neck, resting just above her cleavage.

A threat, that he wouldn't be allowed out if he was bad -- but also a promise, that he would if he was good.

The double-edge of her statement caused an internal shiver to run through him, and Gregory swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth. It took a moment for him to summon the will (and saliva) to answer her, but he did so with a meek yip of sound.

Rachel sighed out her next breath, and that hungry flicker shone in her eyes again. "Good boy," she said, almost at a whisper, before undoing the latch of the cage.

***

Rachel stood, stepping back as she swung the cage door open. Gregory crawled out onto the rug with a sigh of relief, stretching his leg on his way through the door before settling on all fours. The barest instinct to stand twitched through his left leg, bringing it in with the intent to place his foot down against the rug, when he felt Rachel's hand on his head.

He froze. He could imagine her tone, the sharp stop, and could imagine what comes next: good doggies don't stand on two legs.

But she didn't give him the opportunity, crouching back down in front of him with her hands on his face. She ran her thumb along the fine straps that framed his lower face, her clear blue eyes zigzagging over him as if seeing him for the first time, and almost entirely avoiding actual eye contact. She skritched her fingers through his hair around the headband, touching one of the leathery ears that poked up from the harness.

There was a sharp, undeniable interest in her expression, her mouth lightly parted, blue eyes ringed in intrigue. Her hands felt warm in his hair, gentle in their appraisal, and the light scratch of her nails against his scalp sang through his nerves.

In spite of the sharp edge of arousal still aggravating him, of the churn of feelings that each little moment had conjured, kneeling here like this with her in front of him filled him with a specific longing, and he leaned in to fulfil it -- with a kiss to her mouth.

Quickly, Rachel turned her head, his lips finding her cheek instead. "Ah-ah," she reprimanded. "Not on the mouth. Who knows where that tongue has been."

It was tempting to state the obvious, but Gregory bit back the clever remark -- but not the compulsive little smile that Rachel mirrored back at him, knowing they were sharing a thought about exactly where his tongue had been.

Out of the cage, seeing her up close like this, that adorable little smile on her mouth -- the simmered resentment had burned off. Okay, so Rachel had enjoyed a little powertrip, but she hadn't really been about to expose him to the delivery guy. Not really. She hadn't really kept him in the cage for that long -- a ten minute shower, half a TV show. Yes, Gregory had been in there much longer, but she'd only gotten to enjoy it for less.

And she'd let his cock out of its cage once she got tired of that too.

It wasn't fair for him to keep pushing his insecurities on her, and he'd set up this predicament himself. And now they were both into it, and he had the whole of her attention.

Warming up to the moment, he panted through his smile with his best doggie impression, and ducked in again to kiss-lick her cheek, her jaw, her neck, just as he had woken her up this morning. Rachel gave a shrill giggle, her hands coming up to playfully push his face away, but he insisted himself forward, using his greater weight to knock her back under his assault of licks and kisses.

Rachel gasped as her back hit the rug, and Gregory was kneeling over her, warm and solid and relentless. He could tell from her squirming that her body was responding to him, equal parts relishing the attention while she made a loose attempt at trying to escape him. The feeling of her wiggling beneath him, laughing and protesting, and the taste and touch of her beneath his licks and kisses all went straight to his cock, persistently swelling against the confines of its cage.

She twisted, and her thigh bumped up against him, and they both react -- Gregory, with a throttled moan in his chest, and Rachel, a sharp and surprised gasp that had her properly shoving him back from her, and pulling herself away.

"Oh," she murmured. "I forgot about that."

Her face was pinker from their brief wrestling, and her nightdress had shifted so that the hem was tugged down lower, showing off the rounded top of one areola. Gregory leaned in, mouth only barely brushing that blush of pigmentation before he felt Rachel slip a finger through the ring of his collar and tug him back without a word.

She stood up, straightening her nightdress as Gregory caught his own breath. It had been subtle, that rebuff, but so different -- normally she'd complain at him, let him stop on his own terms, if he did something she didn't welcome. A firm hand pulling him back from his collar reminded him of the way an owner would prevent their dog from sniffing where it shouldn't. Instead of experiencing the little twinge of shame he'd have felt for displeasing his wife, her matter-of-fact handling of him went straight to his dick.

"Sit back," Rachel said. "Sit. On your knees, back straight."

Gregory swallowed, and moved as directed, kneeling on the rug with his ass resting on his ankles. He gazed up at her gazing down at him -- no, not at him. More specifically, down his body.

"Knees apart," she said, quieter. "I want to see."

Slowly, Gregory inched his knees apart, spreading them wide, and then wider. The purpose was obvious -- she wanted him displayed.

The air felt far cooler against his straining cock, and he chanced a look down at it. His cock had gotten redder, a little on the purple side, constricted bloodflow and engorged flesh straining against the silver bars. It squeezed him down into a much smaller size than he naturally was, even while soft, and feeling his wife's eyes on him in this state sent a fresh wave of cool embarrassment across his skin.

Covering himself with his leather mittens would have been only slightly worse, and so he didn't, resting them on his thighs as he looked back up at her. That speculative look of intrigue was back, and she stepped in a little nearer, lifting a foot to touch the top of it gently against his caged cock. He was sure that pre-cum had leaked out, but didn't look down, and fought back the impulse to angle his hips and eke out some sensation from that touch.

Barely.

"Like I said," she said, "you look adorable in there."

She ruffled his hair affectionately, then stepped away. With a shudder, Gregory fell forwards onto his paws, listening to the sounds of his wife start to fish through her dinner order.

He was getting the feeling that it was about to be a long night.

***

[ Note: Next time, Rachel continues to enjoy her evening with her brand new puppy, and Gregory hopes he can earn his way out of his little cage. ]