Into the Dog House Ch. 05

He startled at the immediate sensation of shaving foam hitting his skin, and whimpered when Rachel used her hand to spread it around -- between his ass crack, down to his trapped balls.

Then, using the disposable razors, she began to shave him, careful scrapes of a blade against his sensitive skin, slowly removing the hairs that grew there. Gregory's breathing became shallower, breath leaving his body in shaky tremors as he stayed poised in this position, aching and drooling and staying perfectly still as the woman who was, in this moment, his owner, groomed his asshole.

Owner. It felt more true, suddenly, than it had in their strange little sessions thus far. She had taken perfect possession of his body, had decided to change it to her liking, some potent mix of the attitude one has towards their poodle and its fluff, and something far less innocent. He was certain she was aware of the effect it had on him -- his straining cock dangled in easy view, and he was no longer able to breathe silently -- but it was as though this was not as important as what she wanted to do to him.

She carefully took a hold of his balls, delicately tugging them enough so that she could access it with the razor. Gregory bent down lower, paws slipping off his ass and bracing against the edge of the bathtub, but she didn't object. His arousal was certainly on display, and the muscles up his thighs shivered beneath his skin.

Touch me, he wanted to beg. Please, just touch me.

But then the razor moved away. Water was poured over him, foam and hair washed away. A warm cloth cleansed him properly, and he pointlessly pushed his hips back against it, desperate for stimulation.

"One last thing," she said. Her voice had changed a little, deeper, quieter. "A treat, for behaving."

His heart leapt in his chest. The key. She was going to take it off her neck, slot it into the padlock. She was going to give him what he wanted. If he was thinking straight, he'd know it was unlikely, that she'd stick firmly to her aim of giving him in chastity until Friday, but he could think of nothing else but being permitted an erection, to orgasm through it.

Instead, the cabinets opened again. Things being put away. Taken out.

He braced himself as he felt her fingers touch the sensitive skin between his asshole and balls. Slippery, cooler than they were a moment ago. She slid them up towards his asshole, rubbing it, and Gregory held his breath in apprehension.

"Your fluffy little tail is very cute," she said, as she rubbed tender circles with slippery fingers, slowly pushing the tips of them deeper. "But I found a tail I like better."

Gregory wasn't stupid. Well, he'd sure felt like it lately, but at the very least, he immediately knew what she was talking about. In gathering the items for the scene on Saturday, he'd done the research, had scrolled through plenty of different kinds of puppyplay tails, including the ones that rested in a person's asshole. Silver plugs with long fluffy extensions through to perky little silicone things.

He had looked at these and chosen differently, but he remembered the thought he'd had when deciding on a belt instead: Rachel wouldn't like these.

And now, she was massaging his asshole, pushing her lubed up fingers inside of him. Not a first time, for them -- it had been a long time ago, but she'd fingered him before while blowing him, and he'd never been able to put to words exactly how crazy that had driven him. She wasn't, he could sense, trying to bring him pleasure directly, only preparing him for what she was about to do.

After a minute or so, she withdrew, and he shivered at that strange, filthy feeling of her fingers sliding out of him.

"Here," she said, and he finally looked back at her. She held up a black object -- a medium sized looking plug with a slight curve to it that tapered to a narrow neck before flaring again. The flared end grew directly into an extended point, a curving upwards swoop that resemble a short-haired dog tail. It would point up in a happy fixed position once lodged in his ass.

She smiled. "I was thinking we could get a few different kinds," she said, tipping her head. "I had a hard time deciding, but figured we could start simple."

Rachel didn't wait for him to demonstrate approval, moving back out of his field of vision and quickly pressing the blunt end of the plug against his asshole. Slower, she started to work it into him, Gregory catching and holding his breath as she did so. It was careful work, maybe too careful, slowly driving him crazy as she would push it in a little further, withdraw it again, and repeat. Applying more lube, ensuring it went in slick -- and then, finally, a last push, Gregory moaning as the broader end passed through the tight ring of his anus, and groaning again as it closed around the narrow neck of the toy.

He felt Rachel flick the end, which shifted the whole thing inside of him, compelling another muffled moan out of him as it nudged against his prostate.

"That'll be fun," she murmured.

Then, a rattle, and the sound of the water draining.

***

A perfunctory drying off followed, and then a reapplication of his harnesses, his kneepads, his socks. Rachel left the bone gag in place, and led him back out into the living room, where the air prickled cool against his fresh groomed skin, and the plug in his ass tugged and pushed with each movement. By now, his cock had turned a deep colour of want, beading fluid shining at the tip, Gregory sharply aware of it and only dimly conscious to anything else.

Holding his leash, Rachel moved towards the couch. He watched her go as he crawled behind her, watched her stretch to relieve some of the ache from labouring over the bath, watched the way her sweatpants rode up and pulled taut to his ass. He was moving before he could think, crawling after her and nudging his face against the back of her thigh, earning a startled laugh from her as she looked back at him.

And he, up at her, momentarily unself-conscious as to how he must look with his mouth gagged with the chew toy, on all fours. She stroked his hair, his false ears. "Puppy wants to play?"

He whined.

She moved to sit down on the couch, and leaned over to take his face in her hands, leash end loose around her knuckles. "I think deep down," she murmured, "you want to be my good boy. You want it more than anything. And don't worry." She kissed the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna teach you how."

Rachel leaned back, and now Gregory could see the flush to her face. She grabbed the hem of her sweatpants. Lifting her hips, she pulled her pants down and off, leaving her naked from the waist down. Gregory looked at her pussy, catching the scent of her arousal from where he was kneeling in front of her and seeing for himself the moisture that had gathered between her labia, in her sparse pubic hair.

She wasn't just wet. She was soaking.

It hit him, suddenly -- for all his concern at what kind of pleasure she was deriving from treating him this way, this was what she was going through at the same time. Kneeling on the floor of the bathroom, shaving his groin, lubing his ass, all that while, she'd been getting wetter and hotter.

She breathed in deeply, and shed her T-shirt as well, her rosy nipples stiff against the air, and the key to his cock shining on its chain at her throat. She reached out, grabbing his collar and pulled him towards her until he was kneeling between her legs, paws set on the couch cushions on either side of her hips -- and still with his mouth gagged, forced into its open bite around the bone. His breathing had taken on its shaky quality, smelling her perfume, her sweat, her hair, her cunt, all at once enveloping him.

"Hi," she whispered, as he met her gaze, and tugged on his leash.

Gregory made a muffled sound -- no words in particular, just longing. He leaned in, nuzzling his face against her breasts, and she shivered out a sigh as he nudged saliva-damp silicone against her skin. He rubbed his stretched lips against her nipples, whining with desire to taste her as he tried to get at her with his tongue, and could only barely do so.

Panting, he lowered his head further, knowing it was futile but straining to get his mouth to her wet pussy. She grunted as the edges of the bone gag pushed against her groin, her thighs, giving a breathy giggle as he clumsily nuzzled towards her cunt. She gripped the back of his head harness, manoeuvring him just so that she could gently grind her slick sex against his face, filling his senses.

"Good boys get treats," she murmured, head tipped back. "But you broke a rule."

Gregory whined in protest, tugging against her grip on him. She let him go, and he looked up. "So your chew toy has to stay," she explained. "But you can still help me out."

She pushed his shoulder.

"Sit."

Gregory knelt back, shuddering as the curved end of his tail nudged against his ankles, stimulating him -- as if he needed it. His cock was leaking, deep red, nearly purple, shamelessly jutting in its cage as far as it could get. He could just slightly taste her wetness on his toy and his mouth, and shame tugged through him at the thought that he'd spoken out of turn, deprived himself of tasting her completely.

Deprived her of being looked after.

She twisted in place, reaching for the small table by the couch. The drawer, she tugged open, retrieving something small, purple-red, more silicone. It was a toy he'd seen before but hadn't seen used -- she'd told him it wasn't much fun to try to incorporate into sex with another person. But here it was, a compact thing with a spout and hole that he imagined must fit over her clit.

"Cute, right?" she said, turning it so he could see. "Kind of reminds me of your cock." It was about the same size, nearing the same colour, and Gregory grunted. "But I think it can do a little more for me right now."

Rachel's expression was all anticipation, pressing a button until the toy started to buzz and click. She parted her legs, and lifted one to lay her calf against his shoulder, and then brought the toy down to her cunt, using her fingers to perfectly fit the hole onto her clit.

Her reaction was immediate, back arcing, mild pressure applied where her leg leant against him. Gregory watched, helplessly caged, mitted, gagged and drooling, as his wife pleasured herself inches from him, using him as little more as a means of balance. After so many long minutes spent with her attention purely focused on him -- at least, his body, if not anything else -- it was nearly disorienting to experience in reverse.

It didn't draw him out of himself -- fed into it, instead, hyperaware of his straining cock, the plug nestled in his ass and the way he could kind of move it against his feet beneath him. The strain of his muscles from kneeling and crawling and the continued trickle of drool from his mouth forced open.

He watched as she gently ground her hips up into the toy she pressed there, the way her other hand slide two fingers in alongside it, applying pressure. He could imagine bowing his head and slipping his tongue deep into her while she played with her clit, or use his fingers if they were available. His cock. Instead, he watched as she slipped her fingers inside of herself instead, sliding in smooth and wet, and he groaned.

Rachel did not take long, even if it felt like forever. In fact, Gregory couldn't remember her ever getting off so quickly, merely a handful of minutes before her whole body went telltale still, and then suddenly clenched, bucking, a breathy moan shuddered out of her as an orgasm spasmed through her, a fresh welling of fluid around toy and fingers.

Settling, breathing hard. Then, her leg slid down off his shoulder.

She slowly gathered some composure, mouth still loose and eyes hazy, and she reached for Gregory, feeling along the silicone strap of his gag. Eagerly, he bowed his head and leaned forward, feeling a flush of anticipation as she slowly undid the buckles, unhooked his leash. She would pull him in, let him pleasure her when after such a quick orgasm, she'd probably want a second.

But as she removed the gag, she held up the clit sucker to his face instead. "Take this to my room," she said. (Our room, Gregory thought, fleeting.) "Put it on the bedside table."

Tentatively, he opened his mouth, and she carefully wedged the toy between his teeth, a bigger strain than the bone had been.

"Good boy."

Lightheaded, Gregory did as he was told, shuffling on all fours to the bedroom, passing the bed to the table. On the floor, by the door, he dimly recognised his things still strewn around from his frantic undressing, but paid it no mind as he shuffled along.

Kneeling up so he could place the toy down on the table, he pushed it out from between his teeth with his tongue. The taste of her -- salt, saline, bitter -- was powerful, and he gazed down at the toy, shining and thick with her juices, the result of her climax.

It was dark in the room. Meagre sunset light struggled between the curtains, and the light from outside the open door behind him cast some illumination, but the shadows were still thick. Maybe if they weren't, maybe if he'd had less excuse, he'd have done differently.

Instead, he gave into impulse, and lowered his head to lick the toy clean. It was decently heavy enough that it only rocked a little under his tongue rather than skitter away, letting him clean it up around its warm silicone curves, around the suction hood, and inside of it, giving a small, soft groan at the thought of him pushing his tongue where her most sensitive part had been. If this was all he was allowed, then he was going to take it, greedily lapping up her cum with as much devotion as he'd have paid to her pussy.

Good boy, he thought to himself, in the deep fog of arousal that clouded him, feeling the cool trickle of pre-cum leak between his thighs, ass clenching down around the plug lodged inside it. Good boy.

The light shifted, and he looked up, around, to see Rachel standing in the doorway. Still naked, still wet around the tops of her thighs, rendered more in silhouette here, but not so much that he couldn't tell from her expression that she had certainly caught him.

Caught him doing something she hadn't asked him to do. Hadn't even been witness to it. Gregory sank back on his knees, feeling his soul shrink beneath her stare -- not in anticipation of punishment, but something else.

Proving something to her. Something to himself.

She stepped into the room, walking towards him. She touched his hair, a tender stroke of affection, and he leaned in, nuzzling up between her legs, reflexively humming a whine even though his mouth was free. She gently eased him back, not before he could get away with a quick, gentle lick, and she bent down to bury a kiss into his hair, between his leather ears.

"I love you," she said.

And Gregory felt the instinctive call and response: Love you too.

But she pushed her hand over his mouth, and he did as he knew she wanted instead -- licking her palm affectionately, sweetly, just as a good boy should.

***

[ Note: Next time, Gregory is late for dinner, and hopes this won't ruin his chances for freedom come Friday. Rachel puts him through his paces. ]