Puppy Girl: The Stray

Hunter knew what he had to do. In a little more than a week, the supply boat would come, dropping off his order, and leaving with his latest writing effort and his next order for supplies. He knew he'd have to take her back, let his puppy-girl go. Put her on a plane to her family, who must be going crazy with worry. He didn't want to, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

But it was dangerous. He's gone to great lengths to disappear, and he'd have to make sure she understood that. She couldn't reveal who he was or his whereabouts. He'd seen her looking at his books, peeking at his work. He was aware that she probably knew who he was. He could only hope she really was as loyal as she seemed.

The alternative was to keep her locked up and hide her presence. Not only would that be an evil thing to do, but his delivery of food wouldn't be enough for two people for two months. Hell, it barely lasted eight weeks for just him. No, he couldn't do that.

He pushed the thoughts away, and got up to make dinner. His puppy was still sleeping. He still had most of the canned ham he'd opened, but that would last for a while, and he hated eating the same food on back-to-back days. Food fatigue was one of the first dangers he'd encountered, eating the same thing day after day. He'd learned to diversify his orders, eating a vast array of different things.

He also rarely ate large dinners. He kept his meals small, to stay fit. He couldn't afford to get out of shape or unhealthy, stuck as he was, alone. Or at least as alone as he'd been.

Hunter decided to keep it simple. He was out of bread, or he would have made peanut butter and honey sandwiches, since he'd broken the peanut butter out of his hoard. It was one of his favorites, and he'd emptied his last jar three weeks ago. He remembered seeing a stash of Saltines in his storage. Peanut butter and honey crackers it was.

When he had a tray full of prepared crackers, he took his condensed milk and made a pitcher full. It was one of the things he missed on the island, fresh milk. Even the boxed milk went bad once he opened it.

He placed a tray beside the couch, and went to wake up his puppy-girl. Standing over her, he couldn't believe how much better she looked in a little over a week. Her skin was still peeling in places, but it was 95% healed. Her feet were in much better shape, almost completely healed. Her hair shone. She looked beautiful, lying peacefully at his feet.

"Wake up, Red," he said, stroking her side. "Dinner's ready."

Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled when she saw him. She stretched, and rubbed her head against his leg as she crawled toward her bowl.

"Over to the couch. I've got a special treat for my perfect puppy."

He sat on the couch, bent over and patted the floor in front of him. Amy sat up eagerly, between his legs. He reached over to the tray, and retrieved a pair of crackers. "I hope you like this. Peanut butter and honey crackers."

He fed her one, and was pleased with the way her eyes lit up.

The crackers were messy, the honey having a tendency to drip off the sides. Amy took advantage of his messy fingers, licking them clean whenever he'd let her. After every few crackers, he'd give her a sip of the milk when he felt thirsty. The tray was nearly empty, as was the large glass, and Hunter had been hard from the very first lick.

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was wrong when he'd changed into his flimsiest shorts before dinner, no shirt, no underwear. He knew it was wrong when he'd brought the peanut butter and honey over on the tray. It was wrong to spill the honey on his bare leg, watching her lick it clean.

It was especially wrong when he poured the honey over his aching bulge.

Amy looked up at him, then down at the tasty mess. She hesitated only a moment before starting to lick it clean, peeking up at him, when he moaned.

"Good girl," Master whispered, petting her.

When he reached inside his shorts leg, and pulled his hard cock out, somewhere deep down inside Amy, she knew what he was doing. He wanted her to lick him. He wanted her. But Amy's puppy-mind had her pulling back, waiting for another treat, looking up at her Master expectantly.

Hunter watched her, seeing nothing but his innocent puppy-girl, obedient, loving, waiting for her dinner. "You ... you don't have to," he whispered.

Amy leaned forward and licked his shaft once. "Rowf!" she barked.

Hunter chuckled and smeared the peanut butter along his shaft, and poured honey over the head. Then he leaned back and watched his puppy-girl enjoy her meal. She didn't even look up when he groaned. Her tongue lashed out, cleaning him of her treat. She was slow and thorough, making sure she got everywhere, taking her time licking the honey off the head, sucking most of the crown into her mouth, until it was clean.

She looked up once and continued her licking starting at his straining balls, covering every bit of quivering flesh. Her breath was warm and tantalizing, her hot tongue maddening.

"Good puppy-girl," he whispered. "Good Red."

When he was clean he did it again. She didn't hesitate that time, scooting in closer, stretching her puppy tongue out further, curling it around his shaft. She worked her way upward, taking the sticky head in her mouth, her tongue curling around it, making her Master groan. Afterward she gave him long playful licks, looking up at him, then glancing over at where more of her treat waited on the tray.

The third time he only poured honey over the head, and pushed his cock straight out toward her. She looked up at him once and opened her mouth. He placed the head inside her open mouth, and sighed as she took her time sucking him clean.

"Good girl," he moaned.

Sucking was something his little puppy-girl did well. He stroked her hair, while her tongue did devilish things. She sucked him in deeper, stretching her lips forward to make sure she missed none of her treat. She stopped only when the head pressed against the back of her throat. She moved her head up and down, until no taste remained of her sweet treat. Only the taste of Master.

He was agonizingly close, when she pulled away, licking her lips. He reached for the honey, and she yipped, looking over at the peanut butter. He took the hint and smeared the peanut butter on the top half of his cock, before holding it out for her.

While she sucked him, he petted her, telling her how wonderful she was, the best puppy ever. She was still sucking when he reached the point of no return. He groaned and came powerfully.

He felt a surge of guilt, as he saw the surprised look in her eyes. He'd broken her trust, abused his innocent little puppy. She whimpered, but kept sucking, his hand on her head, not forcing her, but conveying his desire. When he started softening, he stroked her hair softly.

"I ... I'm sorry," he whispered.

Amy looked up. Master was sad. She smiled for him, and licked his thing. Then she looked over at the milk. "Rowf!"

He chuckled and held the glass to her lips while she drank deeply. Afterward, he wiped her lips clean, and sucked his own finger. She leaned forward, smiling, sated, resting her head between his legs, licking his shrunken penis a couple of times, before closing her eyes.

Hunter rubbed her head, scratching the back of her neck, reminding her she was the best puppy in the whole wide world.

He cleaned up after dinner, and did some reading on the couch. Amy was content to lie beside him, her head on his leg, as he stroked her hair endlessly. Before bed he cut them both a piece of cake and fed her. Afterward he bathed his puppy-girl, giving her the privacy to do her night-time ritual, before taking her to bed.

He gave her body a quick inspection, removing the band aid from her foot to let it breathe and heal. He stripped her of her kneepads and collar, and used the last of the lotion on her. "All gone," he said as he finished.

He might have spent a little extra time on her breasts and between her legs. She was such a good, such a pretty puppy-girl. He was proud to be her owner.

When the lights were out, she curled up and he wrapped her in his arms. "I love my little puppy-girl," he murmured.

A tiny part of Amy wondered if he'd take her soon. If Master would breed her. A tinier part wondered if she'd ever have to leave Master. Another part of her wondered if she could get him to put the cake on his thing. That would be a tasty treat. There was no part of her that felt any guilt or regret. She had made Master happy. And that was good.

* * *

The next morning was a fruitful one. Hunter got a lot of writing done, and spent a couple of hours in self-editing after a simple lunch. He fed his puppy, even giving her a tiny piece of cake before taking her outside for a walk and returning to his work.

The afternoon proved distracting. She was crawling around the cabin, apparently restless. When she turned away from him, he couldn't tear his eyes off her cute little butt, and the fleshy opening beneath it. Once he knew he wouldn't be getting any more writing done, he called it a day.

He stood stretching, and his puppy was beside him, holding her leash in her teeth. Hunter laughed. "Why not? It looks like a good evening for fishing."

It wasn't a particularly good evening, but it wasn't fruitless either. The only bad part of it was seeing a boat in the far distance. It reminded him that his days with his puppy-girl were numbered. He did manage to catch a couple of decent sized fish, and announced that he knew what they were having for dinner.

He fed her from the couch again, and gave her a piece of cake. She was in a playful mood and he joined her on the floor, playing roughhouse with her, teasing her, wrestling over her chew toy. When she nipped him a little too hard, he sat up. "Bad girl!" he snapped, slapping her bare ass.

She cowered before him, whining deep in her throat.

He sat beside her, lifting her chin. She rolled over onto her back, exposing her belly, curling up her arms and legs, whimpering.

"We don't bite Master, Red," he said softly. "Never."

She whined miserably, turning her head to lick his knee.

The wrestling had its expected effect on Hunter, rolling around on the ground with a beautiful naked puppy-girl. He stood and removed his shorts, his cock standing proud. "Show Master you're sorry."

Amy looked up at him, then down at his cock. She rolled onto her hands and knees, knowing what Master wanted. She took his cock in her mouth, sucking and moving her head back and forth.

"Good girl," Hunter said. "I know you didn't mean it. Not my Red. Not my perfect puppy-girl."

Amy knew what Master desired most. She saw the way he looked at her. Master was a boy, and Amy knew what boys wanted. She pulled her mouth off of him, and turned around, lifting her bottom, presenting herself to him.

Hunter's heart was racing. He knew if he was a better man, he wouldn't do this. Instead he moved behind her, caressing her ass and back. "Who is Master's favorite puppy?"

"Rowf!" Amy replied, wiggling her butt teasingly.

Hunter took his cock in hand and rubbed it between her legs. Naughty puppy-girl. She was eager ready for him. She whimpered slightly as he entered her, before accepting his forceful strokes, eventually pushing back against him.

Hunter was in heaven, gazing down at the girl before him. Her soft, giving flesh, watching his shaft pierce her again and again. He could hear her panting for him. Such a good puppy-girl. He closed his eyes, reveling in the silky smooth feeling, replaying in his mind the way she had turned, lifting her cute little bottom up to him. Inviting him. She wasn't bad, he knew. She only wanted to please her master.

He caressed the skin of her back, marveling at what a perfect little puppy-girl she was. How deliciously tight she was. How lucky he was to have her stray onto his island. He grabbed her hips, and thrust powerfully, deeply, feeling her tremble. He leaned over her, hammering away at her tight little puppy-hole, groaning at how wonderful it felt.

He slowed down, stroking into her gently, his hands caressing her back. "Good girl. Such a good, good girl," he whispered. Then he took her hips in his hands and pumped her strongly, unable to hold back any longer. He cried out as he came inside of her.

When he pulled away, lying back on the floor, Amy turned around and cuddled up to him, pushing her head under his hand, until he stroked her hair. He looked down and saw the tears on her face. It broke his heart, as he never expected anyone would again. The guilt swept over his like a tidal wave.

"What's wrong, Red?" he asked.

She only whimpered.

"Please, A-A-Amy, speak."

It was like a curtain had parted. She crawled forward and clung to him sobbing.

"Did I hurt you, baby? Are you okay? Tell me, please. Speak."

It was difficult for her to form the words. "I ... I was a virgin," she said.

Her words devastated Hunter. All the early thoughts he'd had of her that first day were so wrong. His innocent puppy-girl really was innocent. He'd taken that from her. He was a beast. "I'm sorry baby. I'm so sorry."

She shook her head, raising it to look in his eyes. "No. I wanted Master to have me. To be my first. I love Master. I want to be the best puppy ever."

"You are. The best, prettiest puppy-girl in the whole world. You are perfect."

She closed her eyes, and settled onto his chest, holding him. Holding her Master. Pleased that she could make him happy, and that he wasn't mad at her anymore.

That night in bed, when Master got hard, Amy presented herself to him, guiding his stiffness where it belonged, where Master would be happy. Master moaned and pushed deeper into her, holding her hips before thrusting into her. She was still a little sore, but nothing like the pain of the first few days. She was happy to take care of Master. After a while she even started to like it. She was starting to feel a fire burn inside her when Master groaned and filled her.

* * *

After that night, it seemed Master was always happy. And Amy was happy that Master was happy.

She found that if she could get his attention, and present her wiggling tail, Master would stop his work and take her. She liked making Master happy, hearing his moans, telling her what a good girl she was.

She almost never ate from her food bowl, only using her water bowl. Master enjoyed feeding her. Making her special meals, giving her chocolate, playing with her. Pampering her. Sometimes they'd play the eating game with Master putting her food on his Master's tool. Amy liked the game, getting a treat and making Master happy. One time she and Master played the game for a long time, continuing after she'd gotten her first salty treat, until his tool was big and hard again. Master had picked her up and held her in his lap, his big tool inside of her, while he told her what a wonderful puppy she was, the best in the world. She liked sitting in Master's lap, making him happy, while he petted her both inside and out.

She knew he had work to do. Important work. So sometimes she just watched him from her corner. Other times she'd whine at the door, and he'd let her out to play outside while he worked at his table. On those occasions she would often look back through the window, to see him sitting there. Twice he saw her watching him, and came outside to play with her. A few times she would crawl behind the couch, and read the books that Master wrote.

Then she would find Master, looking for some attention, burying her face between his legs until he was hard and made puppy-love with her.

It was in their bed one evening, when Master mounted her from in front. He told her what a good girl she was, and kissed her. She felt the fire burning, but this time it wouldn't go out. Master pressed deeper and deeper inside, taking her, until she cried out, shuddering, scared.

"Shhh," Master crooned. "You're a good girl, Red, a good puppy-girl. It's alright. It's good that you come for Master."

After that, Master would work to make sure his little puppy-girl had the fire. He would use his fingers, even his mouth, until she was shaking, and then use his Master's tool on her, to make the volcano explode. Amy loved Master, and loved what Master did for her.

Life was perfect for Amy, and she was content to know that Master was happy, that Master loved her, and would always take care of her.

* * *

Hunter couldn't help himself. For the last two days he'd done no writing at all. He spent all his time with his puppy-girl, playing with her, teasing her, roughhousing in the sand.

And of course doing the best he could to wear off the outer two layers of cock skin.

He couldn't get enough of her. Knowing how few their days together were, now counted in hours, he had to spend every possible moment with her. He took her on an exploration of his island, describing every rock, every cranny. He showed her the large freshwater pond that had more than doubled the cost of the island. They played under the tiny waterfall that appeared only after a heavy rain, when the pond overflowed. They stood on the highest point, looking all around as he told her about each of the adjacent chunks of rock, pointing out the only other inhabited one, in the far distance. He played with her in the waves, and lay with her on the soft sand.

His mind was working overtime, looking for a solution that would allow him to keep his darling puppy-girl, but it was futile.

And so, he pushed it out of his mind, emptying his larder, spoiling her rotten, and accepting every opportunity to love his puppy-girl, each time as if it was his last.

With a dozen hours to go, he lay with her, in their bed. He'd made her cry out for him, twice, her adorable little barks, before he achieved his release. She was panting, equally sated.

He held her in his arms. It was time. Well beyond time.

"The boat is coming tomorrow," he said softly, struggling to keep his voice steady. He felt her stiffen in his arms, but she didn't respond.

"Tomorrow. The boat comes tomorrow. I'll be taking you to the big island so you can go home. Do you understand?"

Amy understood. Master didn't want her. He was sending her away. Back to that other life. She nodded, and curled up in a ball, whimpering.

Hunter did his best to stay the tears. He held his puppy-girl, petting her hair, stroking her hip, wondering if he could go back to the way his life was before she arrived.

* * *

In the morning, he refused to collar her. He insisted she wear a pair of shorts he gave her, and the smallest of his t-shirts, which was still like a dress on her. He called her Amy, demanded she walk upright, sit at the table, eat with a knife and fork.

Amy did as she was told, obedient to her Master. She ate as she was instructed. The last piece of cake didn't taste nearly as wonderful, when she couldn't eat if from her Master's hand.

Master was sad. Amy could see that. Anybody could see. Why would he send her away if it made him sad? She watched him quietly through the morning, telling her of their plans. She heard, but didn't listen.

She watched him make out his list, opening each cabinet, writing down his necessities.

He stood long, staring out the window. "They'll be here soon." He walked over to her and rubbed her hair. "Best puppy I ever had," he said. "Best in the world."

Hunter walked to the bedroom, to retrieve the two suitcases he would take on his journey. Hers was all but empty, but he would fill it with what she needed before sending her home. He knew there would be questions, but he would deal with those.

He returned to the living room. The door was open, and his puppy-girl was gone.

* * *

The island wasn't that large. He ran, crying out her name. "Red! Where are you Red?" He whistled for her, and when that didn't work he called her by that other name. "Amy!"