Later on, when we were back at camp and had eaten our evening meal, Letitia and I cuddled up together on the inflatable bed. She had locked up my cock and attached an ankle cuff to me. The cuff was linked by a metal cable to a ground anchor that responded to Letitia’s touch: I was shackled to an area of thirty metres from the anchor, and would be until morning.
“What’s it like, having someone else own your manhood, Gregory?” she asked me.
“Erm…” I stammered, unsure how to answer.
“Is it pleasurable or frustrating? Do you need the control? Do you resent it? Does it hurt? I’ve read that it’s different for every man, but how is it for you?”
“Domina, it is both pleasurable and frustrating. Right now my dick is nestled between your buttocks, which is turning me on, but the cage is keeping me from getting hard against you, which is reminding me that I am owned by you. I like being owned by you – I really like it – so that bit is very pleasurable indeed. That said, I want to have sex right now-”
“And I don’t -”
“And you don’t, so that part is frustrating.”
“If you lick my arse for fifteen minutes, I’ll flip a coin to see if you can masturbate,” she said.
“Yes, Domina.”
I slid down beneath the covers and she rolled off her side and onto her belly. Letitia opened her legs. I had to kneel on the floor, half under the covers and half out, to get my head in the right position between my Domina’s tight buttcheeks. Then I started to lick. It never occurred to me to turn down the offer.
I subjected myself for her. I licked and licked until my jaw ached, lapping at her arsehole and relaxing her. I felt her breathing slow down, and I worried that she might fall asleep if she got too relaxed. That almost made me stop, then I remembered why I was there and what I had wanted to experience on my trip: being a personal slave to dominant women. That there was what it was all about.
Letitia relaxed down into the airbed more and more. I felt her weight settle and I kept on licking her, slower and slower, to keep relaxing her more. She wriggled her hips, very slowly, from time to time, and I pressed myself into her buttcheeks and licked her softly. I wondered every now and then how long it had been, but I kept on going until I heard her voice.
“Stop now, Gregory. Right, computer, flip a coin for me,” she said, that last to her wrist computer. “Heads you cum, tails you wait.”
“Tails,” said the computer.
“Goodnight, slave, go to sleep or read; I’m gonna pass out now,” said Letitia.
I got back into bed behind her and held her again; soon we were both asleep.
*******
The next morning I cooked again. We washed in the brook nearby, using some special soap we had brought to get completely clean with almost no pollution or environmental damage. I liked that we both cared about that kind of thing. At our camp, Letitia dressed in a short green skirt, a blue t-shirt, and the same walking boots as she had worn the day before. She put her hair up in a ponytail, which I especially liked.
“Gregory?” said Letitia, as we sat in the folding chairs in our little clearing.
“How long do you think you could be a pet-slave for? And still enjoy it, I mean.”
“I… don’t know, Domina. I’ve not thought about it.”
“An hour?”
“Longer than that, I think, I’ve done that already with you at home.”
“Three?”
“With you, yes. I think we did about three before… I enjoyed all of those hours!”
“Good answer. A day?” asked Letitia.
“I really don’t know. It’s a long time without speech or hands.”
“What if I really want to keep you as a pet for some longer periods?”
“Then yes: if I see you enjoying it, I could enjoy it too.”
“Eight hours, then, starting now.”
“Huh?”
“Pets don’t say ‘huh’, puppy. On all-fours.”
I barked to show her I’d acknowledged my change in status, and got down onto the dirt, then looked up at her. My Domina rummaged in her pack and came out with a black leather harness, a very long black leather leash, and matching mitts, kneepads and slip-on shoes. She clicked her fingers at me and had me kneel up, then she knelt down beside me to get me dressed.
“Let’s discover more of your puppy personality today, Gregory. Are you a playful pup, an old and calm dog, a well-disciplined tracker or a happy go lucky silly boy? What will you do for a few bites to eat and a lick of something tasty? How quickly will you learn tricks? Do you understand what it means to be my pet and please me that way?”
I nodded, hopeful that I did, or that I would. Without thinking I gave a bark of appreciation when she attached the harness to my body. As she tightened the straps, I enjoyed the rich feeling of the leather against my skin. The harness made me feel held, as if Domina’s touch was always encircling me. When she pulled tight the straps that ran beneath my arse, I felt especially hers.
She mitted my hands next. The mitts were high-tech: rubber foam spilled around my fingers as my hands slipped inside, rendering me unable to feel or touch even through the leather. The wrists tightened of their own accord, trapping me inside until Letitia let me out. She added the kneepads and slip on shoes after that, then clipped her long leash to my collar.
“You make a very fine animal, Gregory. What do you have to say for yourself?”
I barked once or twice for her.
“Louder, boy.”
I gave it more volume, the barks echoing from the trees.
“No, really give it everything!”
I did, though it embarrassed me. I barked and barked at the top of my voice, until Letitia silenced me with a wave of her hand.
“Good boy. Animals don’t hold back.”
It was Letitia who packed supplies and carried them that day. With a pack of food and a few toys on her back, she led us off amongst the trees, in the opposite direction from the one we’d explored the day before. I crawled after her, keeping my head fairly low so that my neck wouldn’t ache. Eight hours could be a long time.
I had to scurry and scramble sometimes to keep up. Where Letitia could hop over obstacles, I could only go through or around, and sometimes that meant getting wet in streams, or trying to push through bushes and ferns. Always, she held my leash, guiding me forwards with barely a word, ruling me easily and without a thought.
She had humbled me the night before with the coin toss, and my cock was still locked up. That day she was humbling me again. I wanted to show her how superior she was to me, how much I needed and cherished her control, so I tried to humble myself whenever she looked back. I yipped, I smiled, I whined. When I saw how happy that made her, I knew it was worth it.
We walked a long time: I had no way to tell how long. When she wanted a break, Letitia led me beneath the trees to a spot where a log had fallen. She sat down on the log, then went into her pack and took out some energy drinks and some snack bars. The drink, she gave to me by putting the bottle in my mouth and squeezing; the snacks, she had me eat in bits off her hand.
I licked the fragments of oats and sugar off her palm as she held them out. Letitia giggled to see me like that, and I felt a surge of contentment as I realised how happy she was at that moment. I whined when the snack was all gone, and she patted my head and then stroked my face. She leaned down, kissed me, then looked down at me again.
“I need a treat too, puppy,” she said, then opened her legs.
I shuffled forward and got busy. Letitia let out a high-pitched pant the moment I began, and she kept on panting like that all the way through. I licked hard and fast, not even trying to control my pace, and she responded with ragged breaths. She pulled my head in close to her and my mouth filled with the taste and scent of her sweet cunt.
In its cage, my cock yearned to be free. It strained and twitched but could not escape. Letitia, and only Letitia, would dictate when that happened; the thought drove me on to lick her as fast as my tongue and jaw could take. I heard her muffle a cry, then let it out in one long joyful burst. Her wetness coated my face in pulses, and she pressed my head in as close to her as she could get it to lick her deep.
“Good, good puppy! Oh, so good! Oh! Oh, puppy. Keep this up and you’ll definitely get to cum later. Not yet, though, not yet. Let’s walk on and find some clearing: I want you to learn some things.”
We walked a while, maybe five minutes, maybe ten. All the time Letitia moved in front and I slightly behind, and I got a great view of her arse swaying and her hips moving. It almost hypnotised me, but I was brought back to reality time and time again to dodge around obstacles and avoid sharp rocks on the ground.
Finally we found a clearing, perhaps a hundred metres wide, with ground too poor to sustain trees. Grass grew in clumps, dotted with small leafy bushes and patches of bare earth or rock. Letitia stomped around a bit while I sat waiting, and she inspected the area to make sure that it was safe for me and suitable for her purposes. She nodded, then returned to her pack, and got out various toys.
“OK, puppy, the first game is fetch. This is a special throw toy that will bounce once or twice then land: you can see it’s a nice long rectangle shape so it won’t roll off. That makes the bounce unpredictable, so you have to react and turn to catch it as you chase after. That’s good training for a puppy like you. Go, puppy, fetch!”
I yipped then bounded off to get the bright yellow rubber rectangle. Letitia had thrown it high but short, so I managed to get almost underneath it as it landed. She erupted in gales of laughter when the toy hit the ground and bounced inches past my head, and I chased it down and grasped it in my mouth.
On the way back, I found it harder to dodge around obstacles, but my mitts and kneepads kept me safe. They hardened whenever they needed to, thanks to some clever embedded tech in the material. So I crawl-ran back to Letitia, my cock jiggling beneath me in its cage and my eyes wide with excitement. I so wanted her to let me out of the cage.
“Good boy, good boy, who’s my good boy. Let me see your lovely caged puppy cock when you bend over to pick up the toy, puppy. I do own it after all. Go!”
I raced back and forth, back and forth, while Letitia taught me how to please her better with the display. It helped when I spread my legs wide to bend down for the toy to show off my cock. It helped if I stopped short of her when returning and spread my legs again, then knelt up and made a little begging motion. It helped when I yipped and yapped as I ran. Bit by bit, my embarrassment flowed away.
“Good puppy, Gregory, that’s enough fetch. Let’s do balance next. Balance is a game where you balance something on your nose or some other part of your body. I set a time limit, then you see if you can balance it for that long. If you do, reward. If not, a quick strike of the crop somewhere. You get it, right?”
I yipped.
“Good boy! Let’s do a stick first. On your face, ten seconds.”
I knelt up. Playing the game was harder than it sounded. I strained and shuffled when Letitia put the stick on my upturned face, but within a few seconds, I was balancing so far to one side I almost toppled. The stick wobbled, righted, yawed and spun, then fell to the floor. I winced as Letitia’s crop hit my buttock.
“Bad puppy. Try again. No puppy cums for bad puppies, Gregory.”
That focused my mind. If I couldn’t balance things on my face, no orgasm. It didn’t make a lot of sense as a way to treat a human man, but as a way to treat a hybrid, a human-animal, a pet-slave, it was perfect. Simple punishment for simple mistakes. Letitia tousled my hair and I felt a warm rush spread through me.
“Again. Stick, ten seconds.”
When I pulled it off, she fed me a sweet off her hand. So that was reward: instant and obvious, but it got the job done. When I dropped something, the crop: I yelped as my skin stung, and felt welts rise on my bare flesh. When I balanced something for the requisite time, the sweet from her hand. I started to crave them, to need the sweets almost as much as I needed to be petted and stroked.
“Good boy,” she said when I balanced right.
“Bad puppy,” she said when I failed.
Why did I need to hear the words so much? I graduated up to balancing smaller and smaller things: the throw toy, a hairbrush, a wrapped food bar, then a small antique coin she must have brought specially. I got better at it, more able to move just a little side to side or front to back, better at engaging my core, better at breathing slowly to keep from tipping the objects. Letitia kept up the praise until she was satisfied.
“All right, puppy, break time. Come eat and drink.”
She got two stainless steel bowls out from the pack, and poured apple juice into one, and biscuits into another. The biscuit bag said “Pupples: Quality Human Pet Food” on it, and I was in no position to argue with her about that. It actually tasted good: savoury on my tongue, with a fragrant aftertaste and a light aroma of bacon. I wolfed it down to fuel up.
“You look so good down there on the floor, puppy, eating and drinking like a good puppy. It’s as if you’ve been doing this for years – I can hardly believe you’re so new to it! Good boy, finished already? OK! Got something else for you to eat.”
Letitia screamed into the empty forest as I licked her out. She leant against an old oak tree at the edge of the clearing, while I sat beneath her, with one of her legs draped over my shoulder. She weighed so little that I barely felt her pressing down on me. I licked and licked and licked, craning my neck up until she had a sweet and light climax that finished quickly.
“Good boy,” she said.
I nuzzled her side with my face as she stood at the edge of the clearing. I knew then that I needed to relieve myself, but I didn’t want to do it in front of her, so I mimed me crawling around the tree. She looked at me, her eyebrows raised in puzzlement, then it clicked and she said, “Ah.” She stood looking down at me, pondering her next move.
“Well, puppy, you need to get over some of your shyness, but maybe not all in one go. Why don’t you cock a leg against this tree to piss, then go in those bushes over there to do anything else? While you do that I’ll get a sanitiser spray from the bag, so you can be nice and clean afterward. What do you think?”
I whined a little but she wouldn’t have it. She had stated what I would do, and ‘what do you think?’ was not really her asking my opinion. It was just a turn of phrase. Letitia let my leash out to full length and I crawled up next to the tree she had indicated. I cocked my leg up, blushing and feeling great shame fill my gut, then tried to piss.
It took a while to come out, but I looked down at the ground and really tried to think my way into the role. I was Letitia’s pet, her sex-slave on all-fours, and this would be good for my ego just like all the other things we had done. Letitia had a need for this, just like I had a need to serve, and so I would do this thing. Not for me, but for her. I pissed against the tree and she called me a good boy again.
When the rest was taken care of, we went back to training. My cock was still firmly locked, and it was well into the afternoon by that point. I wondered if it was ever going to be unlocked, but I dared not break role and ask Letitia, so instead I played along. My being her pet really pleased her, and I yearned to please her.
I practised positions for her, roaming all around the clearing to do so. Always she led, I followed, connected to her by the long leather leash and feeling her intentions by the way she pulled and flicked it. I rolled, I begged, I sat, I played dead, I jumped and ran, zigged and zagged, always on her leash and under her control.
Sometime in the early evening, a sudden noise of cracked branches and rustling bushes heralded the arrival of four interlopers into our clearing: two girls and two boys, all perhaps eighteen or nineteen. I jerked around to face them, and Letitia’a attention snapped away from me to assess the intruders. I never thought to stand, and my Domina never let go of my leash. I heard Letitia punch in some commands to her wrist computer, then she sighed with relief.
“Well, you’re allowed in this part of the forest at least, so that’s something. Did you not pick up my privacy signal?” asked Letitia to the girls.
“Oh no I’m so sorry – we all turned our devices off so we could just enjoy the scenery, and well, erm, we heard you playing so we came to, oh gosh I’m sorry, to have a look,” said a tall white girl with blonde hair in a plait. Her manner was a little strange, rather formal, and I thought perhaps she was intimidated by Letitia’s self-confident presence.
“We wanted to take our friends somewhere quiet and out of the way,” said the other girl, who was black with a close-cropped head of black hair.
“To get to know them?” asked Letitia.
“Yes! Exactly!” said the girl with the shaven head.
“Well, here’s as good a place as any, don’t you think?” said Letitia.
That seemed a little off to me – Letitia was by no means inhibited, but she had gone from strangers to friends in just a few seconds with these girls. Women were trusting in that country, but, that trusting? Really? I looked up at her and she looked down at me, and I thought I caught just the suggestion of a smile, a nod, a tilt of the head. Was this really just down to chance or was this something else? I resolved to play my role, make her happy, and find out.
All four of the ‘intruders’ were clothed, but the girls were clearly in charge. They pointed to a spot in the middle of the clearing and the boys went there, then stood about sheepishly as if they didn’t know what to do next. It was clear from the way their eyes flitted around and their hands nervously fiddled that they needed someone to tell them what to do. Someone like I had.
Boy number 1 was a short guy, white-skinned with jet-black hair that fell down to his back. He was skinny, with thin arms and delicate wrists, and these big soulful brown eyes that made your heart melt to look at. Boy number 2 on the other hand was the tallest of the four of them, with light brown skin and short black hair in a quiff. The pair of them stood waiting for instructions.
Letitia paid them no mind, pointedly turning away from the boys to talk to the girls. She got their names – the blonde was Mary and the shaven-headed girl was Dina – then quizzed them about what they were doing in the forest, how experienced with males they were, and what they were planning to get upto that evening.
“You keep your boys clothed?” asked Letitia.
“Well, we’re new to this, them too. It just didn’t seem, I don’t know,” said Dina.
“Friends before you became of age?” asked Letitia.
“Well, yes, we were,” said Dina.
“And now things have changed?”
“Yes!”
“So you’re walking while you figure out what to do with two very nice-looking boys?” said Letitia, laughing.
“Exactly!” said Mary.
“May I make a suggestion?” asked Letitia.
“Please!” said Mary.
“Boys need direction and discipline, then affection, which is part and parcel of the very same two things. Why not have them strip then try that out?”
“Just get them naked?” asked Dina.
“Just so,” said Letitia with a grin.
“Well…”
“It’s hardest the first time with old friends, then it becomes natural…”
“I mean, OK… Boys, strip!” yelled Dina.
“Clothes off and hands on head,” cried Mary, getting into it, her hands clasped together in glee.
I saw both of the boys get hard beneath their clothes. I knelt on the floor, at the end of Letitia’s leash, some ten metres from the boys, and I cocked my head as I watched the boys strip. They did it quickly, without fuss, and shortly stood naked with big hardons leering away from their bodies. The tall one smiled a little, but the short one wore a blank expression, watching and waiting.
“What do we do now?” asked Dina.
“Whatever you want, within their legal limits – which I assume you know.”
“Of course,” said Mary.
“Naturally,” said Dina.
“Well then, what’s to stop you?” said Letitia.
“Can your petmale show us some tricks?” said Dina, “For inspiration.”
“Of course he can. Pet-slave, go fetch!”
Letitia leaned over to face away from me, her beautiful bottom catching the evening sun, and grabbed a stick from the floor. With a twist, she let go of my leash then hurled the stick to the other end of the clearing, and I shot after it on all-fours. No sense denying it: I enjoyed the scene. Gone were my fears of exposure and any reticence I had left about being a slave; warmth filled my limbs and I sensed a great compulsion to please, to chase, to return. I was attached to Letitia by some invisible spring, it seemed.
Fetch lasted a while. A breeze picked up, wicking away sweat from my skin and leaving me feeling fresh and alert. The girls laughed and joked as I ran, and Letitia called out tips and tricks on training males to her new friends. I ran back and forth, past the girls and the boys, this way and that, sometimes crunching through the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing.
Next I demonstrated sitting, rolling, playing dead and begging. All the while, I noticed how Letitia paid more attention to the four new people there than she did to me. I wondered if she was more interested in them, but then it occurred to me that her reasoning might be different. She might just trust me to do as I was told, so she could focus her attention elsewhere. Ten minutes later, her brow furrowed, unfurrowed, then she spoke.
“Now it’s your turn – what do you want your boys to do?” said Letitia.
“Well they’re not pets, but…” said Dina.
“Hmmmm…” said Mary.
“How about – run round the clearing ten times doing jumping jacks as they go?” said Dina.
“Yes, do that!” shouted Mary; she had a voice that made my ears ring.
“Now then!” yelled Dina a few seconds later.
The boys unfroze and rather sheepishly began to jump around the clearing, running a little way, hopping up, making a star shape then landing. They had taut backsides that didn’t wobble at all, but I could see their cocks and balls bounce around as they went. Dina and Mary giggled a little, then watched with rapt faces and open mouths.
“They’re getting hard already,” said Mary.
“Natural slaves do,” said Letitia, “I’d be pleased about that if I were you.”
“Um, I am, I just wasn’t expecting it to be that easy,” said Mary.
“Watching me dominate my boy probably got them fired up. Some boys like to watch, see?”
“Oh.”
We watched the boys bounce around the clearing; their cocks grew harder and harder and they startled to smile a little as they realised they were enjoying themselves. I recognised that look, or at least the feeling behind it, and remembered the first time Letitia had petted me up. I looked up at her and smiled, and when she looked down and said ‘Yes’ to me, I knew she saw it too.
“Have you fucked them yet?” asked Letitia.
“No,” said Dina.
“Do you plan to?”
“Yes,” said Mary.
“I’d have them kiss your muddy boots first, then undress you carefully, then lick you.”
“I want my arse kissed,” said Dina.
“Me too.”
“Build them up to that a little…” said Letitia. “Call them over and get them started, then we’ll drift away while their attention is elsewhere – you’ve done a good thing for them today to get them over the line to serve women. The rest is just details.”
“Thanks Letitia,” said Mary.
“Not a problem,” she replied.
A few minutes later, the boys were on their knees kissing feet and bottoms, and Letitia gently tugged my leash to start the long walk home. I crawled after her with an ache staring in my back, and by the time we got back to the campsite, Letitia could tell I had been on all-fours too long. Her face was lined with worry and she was biting her lower lip, but I think she wanted to keep me that way until we got back because she had said that was what we were going to do. Our little diversion with the interlopers had just taken longer than she had planned for.
When we finally reached camp, she almost ripped off my collar, leash and mitts, then the kneepads, then told me to stand. I got up slowly, and I grunted in pain when my back protested at being told it was suddenly going to go straight up at the hips again. Letitia put her warm hands on the back of my hips and then pushed gently against the base of my spine and I evened out a bit, but I had a bad crick in my neck and she could tell.
“Hmmmm, no, no, no good, stupid Letitia, stupid stupid stupid. I am so, so sorry, Gregory, I forgot about your needs and that is not OK, not OK, no. Oh, I, oh,” said Letitia, then trailed off.
I stepped close to her, despite my aches, and wiped tears from her cheeks, then I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. She sniffed and fought down the tears, then she held me and kissed me with great force. I laughed and squeezed her, and her ragged breaths took on a slower and more steady rhythm, which was pleasing to my ears.
“I’m OK honey, I’m all right – I’m just sore, but some things are worth being sore for,” I said to her.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right – let’s get into the airbed and I’ll work out some of these issues – I do know my way around pet-slaves and I’ve trained a few part-timers like you. I’ll fix you, don’t worry. Bed then.”
Just like that she was back in charge. I limped into the big tent in the middle of the clearing then I flopped down into the welcome softness of the air mattress, on my front. Letitia followed, jettisoning her clothes as she went, then she slowly lowered herself down on top of me. She straddled my back, lowering her warm wet pussy onto my bottom and then letting a little of her weight rest of me.
“Tell me where it hurts honey,” she whispered.
“At the base of my spine and at my neck, and my shoulders,” I replied in a soft voice.
Crunch-click went my joints under her able fingers. She leaned forward to bring her weight to bear on the massage, and her hands travelled up and down my back in waves, leaving relaxed muscles and a warm glow behind. I sensed her get really involved with it, as if she was solving the puzzle of how to undo all the kinks and aches in my back.
She spent a long time on my hips, working them loose with long presses in and some side to side motions that gave me back a normal flex. I groaned and sighed with every deep ache that let go and fled my body. To my delight, she started to sing a blues song as she worked, something about being under the stars far away from everyone, and I listened to her work through the melody in time with the massage.
My eyes closed but I forced them back open. I did not want to sleep through such moments with her, to miss what she was doing for me or how she did it or how her soft singing drifted out from the tent into the fragrant night air. I did not want to lose any moments with her. I just wanted to feel every stroke of her hands and every subtle shift of her legs pressing down on my bottom as she paid back my loyal service with some love and healing.
“Is that working, honey?” she whispered.
“Oh god yes, Domina,” I sighed back.
“Good, good, that’s my good slaveboy, always so kind to his owner.”
“You’re being kind to me too, Letitia,” I said.
“All training is kindness if done right, but this is something else – this isn’t training. I just… felt like I had to do this, needed to do this, wanted to more than anything else in that moment. I don’t know why.”
“Do you need to?”
“Ha, I guess not. Hush now, let me work…”
I hushed, for I was not able to disobey here even though obeying her earlier had caused me such aches and pains. Being told to hush and accept her ministrations made me flush with humble joy, made me understand how I needed her and she needed me. I felt like her companion, not just her property, in that moment – she knew what I needed and I knew what she needed. Silence, and the feeling of her hands on my skin. That was all.
******
The next morning I awoke with the smell of fried food in my nostrils. The odour suffused the tent – Letitia was cooking just outside the door, underneath the awning, while the rain pattered down outside. Drops of water rattled against the tent walls, and through the tent door I saw the bushy ground was sparkling with dew.
We ate together on the air bed, sitting up and taking breaks from stuffing our mouths to kiss. Letitia kissed me hard, lots of tongue, then wolfed some more food. We locked eyes while we raced to chew and swallow, then gave each other the slightest nod and kissed again. Her wet lips were so tender and delightful.
Out in the rain, I lay on my back on the wet yielding ground, and Letitia straddled me and guided my cock inside her. I reached up to cup her breasts and she gasped, then she reached down and scraped her nails across my chest. I grunted as her nails bit into my flesh. Pain surged up as she traced lines of red across my skin, and I looked up into her wild eyes and nodded. More.
She rode me hard and fast, and I writhed beneath her, trying to match her thrusts with my own. We lost our rhythm, laughed, found it again, lost it, laughed some more, then finally it came together. Her dropping, her weight hitting mine, then mine rising to meet her at just the last moment. Connection, eyes meeting, then separation. Over and again, she fucked me and I fucked her, until she screamed an orgasm into the rain and I yelled one into her.
That day we barely spoke. She took me inside the tent and out, around the forest, tied me to trees, staked me to the ground, and had me kneel on the floor. She climaxed time and again, on my hungry tongue or my questing fingers or my throbbing dick, and I found bottomless reserves of energy to give to her. Her smile was radiant; it drew endurance from me I had never known before.
*****
Over that week I realised a few things about Letitia. She was nervous about pushing me too far but she forgot that every day once we got going. Her whip hand lashed out whenever I displeased her, and I would catch a look of concern flash across her face when she saw what pain she could cause me. I tried to beam my gratitude to her, and that always softened her beautiful heart shaped face for a moment, until she took aim again.
Sometimes she did push me too far, like the time I went down on her beneath the waters of the pool below the waterfall, and she held me under too long. I came up coughing and choking; we moved to the pool’s edge. When she made a mistake, I saw how she got nervous about how I’d react, with little tics like pressing her hands nervously together at her belly. I would hold her or caress her or just calm her with my voice, because she needed that reassurance to unlock her full dominance, and I wanted to unlock it. I wanted to see just how far into slavery she could take me.
By the end of the week, I dropped to my knees when she snapped her fingers just so and fell silent when she moved her hand to her throat and made a cutting motion. She kept me silent for half a day just to make sure the lesson had sunk in, then she gave me my voice back so I could cry out the pleasure of having her strapon inside me as I was bound over a fallen log. My first words were “Domina, thank you!” and I saw the joy that brought her blaze bright in her blue eyes.
And so, finally, we returned to the city. In the aircar that came to collect us, I knelt in the crawlspace between the facing seats, while Letitia smiled a warm smile and held my leash. My cock was safely back in a cage, snug beneath my tight red shorts, and I gazed up at her full of admiration for how dominant she knew how to be, and how much pleasure she gave me with every order, click of her fingers, or meaningful look. I was as much hers as Arabella’s – two owners, one slave.
Part 7 – Letitia’s
When we got home and the hugging and greeting was done, Arabella took me into her room and sat me down on the bed. There was a heaviness about her movements that worried me, and she looked me in the eyes with a sad gaze. I cocked an eyebrow, then waited for her to speak. And waited. She said nothing, only looked away, then back at me, then away.
“What’s the matter Arabella?” I asked in a soft voice.
“I met someone on my training course,” she said matter of factly.
“Oh,” I replied.
“Erm…” she said.
“Tell me about them?” I asked.
“Well, it’s a he by the way – ”
“Another slave?”
“Yes, but permanent and raised to it, he’s from here. Anyway, Winston is… well, look, he’s special and bright and he’s working for the same company as an indentured employee and looks to have a bright future ahead of him. We spent a lot of of time together – really together you know, like more than playing and fucking, and…”
“Just take your time…”
“I plan to take him on permanently as my companion. But that means…” she sighed, “that means I need to be able to devote myself to him, to his care and his nurturing and his training and to his affections, and that in turn means you would not be my focus. Now, you came here to experience slavery for a little while and you only have a few weeks left, so, to be honest, I don’t think this is too big of a deal for you, but I need to sell you.”
“My contract says you can’t, though,” I replied.
“I can sell you to your other part-owner, Letitia, and you’d become her sole property. I do actually think, Gregory, that someone wanting to experience slavery ought to know about being sold, and in this case you’re getting off quite lightly.”
“Well…” I said.
“The thing is I already did sell you to her, Gregory, last night over email we signed the contract and she paid me for you.”
“She… bought me out from you?”
“Yes. I got a whole credit for you – what should I spend it on do you think? A bar of chocolate perhaps.”
“A small one, then?” I said back.
“You know you’re worth more than that to me, my friend…”
“I know, Arabella, I know. I just hadn’t expected it. Really, though, it’s OK.”
“It has to be. As my friend I want you to know I’m teaching you something about yourself here: being sold is going to be so good for your male ego, it’ll teach you once and for all that that caged cock hanging between your legs is just a commodity, but that what’s really precious is the service you can give to superior women. Women like Letitia.”
“Women like my Domina.”
“Just so, Gregory, just so.”
She shuffled over on the bed and threw her arms around me, and I wrapped mine around her and squeezed her tight. I kissed her cheek companionably, to show her my gratitude at making me part of her family and introducing me to this way of life. As her arms left me I felt her ownership go too – she pulled away from me completely and stood up, then brushed some imaginary crumbs from her skirt.
“Are we still friends?” she asked.
“Of course we are! Why would we not be?”
“It often hurts to be sold, like a rejection – so I’ve read.”
“That is a little bit true in this case, yes, but you’re doing it for love and I get that. We were never in love, we are – were – friends with benefits. One of those benefits was you owning me a little while, but you sold me to someone who cares about me and who I care about and honestly that makes it all OK.”
“Did she treat you well?”
“Didn’t you find that out first?”
“I trust my sister. I really just meant how do you feel about her?”
“Yes, sorry…”
“But you know, I asked how she felt about you and that was all I needed to hear.”
“How-”
“Let her show you and tell you herself, hey?”
“All right.”
“Now, I think you should go to her.”
I left Arabella’s room and walked the few steps down the corridor to Letitia’s. I knocked and waited to be called in then I entered and dropped to my knees, crawling the rest of the way to my new sole owner, who sat at her desk working at her computer. Letitia spun her chair and her hair swished around as she turned, catching the light so that her dark brown hair seemed to glow a little red. I crawled to her and kissed her feet, then I knelt up and spread my legs wide to show proper submission. I yearned for her to see my surrender, and to tell her how I felt about it.
“Mine,” said Letitia.
“Yes, Domina – completely yours, Domina,” I replied.
“Good boy, Gregory, that was a good answer. Tell me, Gregory, how did it feel to be sold? Were you objectified, were you turned on, were you humbled, were you- No, sorry, you tell me. How does it feel?”
“I might need a moment to think, Domina,” I said.
“Take your time,” she said back, softly.
“Well, Domina… A little more of my male ego feels like it is gone-”
“Good, slave… boy…”
“Thank you, Domina. A little more of my male ego is gone and I recognise that legal control of my body, myself, of me, has transferred fully to you. I find that I like the thought of that very much. Not, really, because of wanting to be a slave, but very much because of wanting specifically to be your slave, here and now. I panicked at the idea of being sold only because of the idea it might part me from you.
“For the remaining weeks of my contract, I am yours. That makes me very happy, Domina, and I hope it makes you happy too, because I would be sad if it did not, if you had only done this out of a sense of duty. I think I know how you feel about me but I find it hard to read you, when, well, when you’re not my equal, you’re my superior. I don’t know what to make of the way you look at me and talk to me.”
“I am very fond of you and glad to own you. I…”
I waited but she did not finish the sentence. Her face was screwed up and I thought I saw a tear forming in her eye, but I could not tell what was going on beneath her furrowed brow. Did she want to tell me something else? Was it something that embarrassed or pained her? How long should I wait? I let a minute tick by then broke the silence.
“How may I serve you, Domina?” I said.
“Well now I own you I want to make a couple of little changes. For one thing you have a smattering of chest hair and your beard needs getting rid of far too often, so I want a temporary depilation across your whole body except your head, so you’re nice and smooth for me like a real full-time slave. Right now you stand out a bit. The second change is fairly minimal but it means a lot to me.
“You see, slaveboy, to me you are part-man and part-puppy, and right now your name is all-man so we need to do something about that. In my hand here is a little silver disc that will clip to your collar and let people know that you have two names: one human and one human-animal. For the remainder of your stay here you will be addressed as Gregory in human mode, and Sausage in petmode. Here, lean in and let me attach it.”
I shivered. I heard a sharp metallic click as the clip latched around the d-ring at the front of my collar, and I sighed with pleasure at the sound. I felt owned, I felt horny, I felt cared for. To my surprise I felt no humiliation, no sting from being renamed, no barbs from my new sole owner. I just felt her hands as they left my collar and cupped my face, then her warm wet lips on mine.
When the long, slow kiss was finally over, Letitia shut her bedroom door and got me up on the bed. I lay on my back and she pressed herself to me to lean forward and lock my hands to the bedposts. Long tresses of brown hair fell over my eyes and briefly blocked out my vision. Her sheer satin blouse was cool on my skin, and her light floral perfume drifted into my nostrils. A stirring in my crotch was answered by the hard metal of my cage as I watched Letitia stand next to the bed and take off her underwear, leaving only her short black skirt and blouse.
Moments later she leaped back onto the bed and the springs sang beneath our combined weight. Letitia towered over me, planted her feet to either side of my shoulders, turned to face my legs, then descended down and planted her hairy pussy right onto my eager face. I took her clit in my mouth and sucked as she bore her weight down onto me. Bliss.
She shifted a little to the left and I found the folds of skin and little bump that she wanted me to get to. It was easy with her: I had learned what she had wanted me to learn, because I had so wanted to learn it to please her. By then I had acquired knowledge of her sighs, her moans, the way she moved in all sorts of positions, the little shudders and flicks of her hips that spoke of real pleasure. I knew her.
“All mine!” she sighed.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said, her cunt muffling my voice – Letitia giggled at that.
“You’re my first solo-owned slave, you know, all the rest were rentals, group contracts, property of other women that I trained and so on. They say you never – oh, good, right there – they say you never – oh goddess – they say you never forget your first. Gregory do you know that I could sell you?
“I expect you do – I want you to keep that in mind as you serve me over the next few weeks. Start and end each day by convincing me to keep you on and not to trade you away for credits or favours. You are a lovely boy but you’re also my most valuable piece of property right now, so don’t test my patience. Oh, good, keep licking and listening, slaveboy.
“The pain ring around your balls will now be unlocked to a higher setting – I’m licensed as a pet-slave trainer to use a higher setting than Arabella was, so I can do that. You won’t ever feel it unless you’re very bad, but it’s there and you should know that, it’s so powerful you might actually faint if I activate it. So don’t make me, boy.
“Good boy, right there. Uh-huh! Oh! Lick me faster now! Yeah! I own your fucking cock and your god-damn balls and you know it don’t you! Yeah, oh honey, oh yeah, yeah…”
Letitia went silent and sucked in breath. I sent my tongue into a frenzy of motion, lapping her clit as fast and hard as I could manage, and I felt my jaw start to burn with fatigue. I did not let up. I had to show her that I was serious about her, and she would know that I was in some pain, so pushing through it was what I needed to do. For her, for her pleasure and her power, for her happiness, I pushed through.
She sang out in pleasure as my tongue pushed her over the edge. Her weight sank down through my face, pinning me deep in the embrace of the mattress, leaving me only the narrowest of corridors through which to suck in breath. I licked and licked, and she came and came. Letitia humped my face, riding me until she had reached complete satisfaction.
“Come, slaveboy, let’s go to the mall for your makeover.”
An hour or two later found myself standing at the end of Letitia’s leash in a little beauty shop in the local mall. The place was one large, gleaming white, room with stainless steel bondage frames all along both walls. It was an adults-only shop, and I had been told to strip naked the moment we were through the privacy door – two doors either end of a narrow corridor at the shop front.
“Hi Letitia!” said a black woman of about forty; she wore a white dress and matching flats, and she had short spiky hair dyed red.
“Hi Steffie! Thanks for fitting us in on such short notice!”
They hugged, then Steffie took my hand and led me to a bondage frame in the middle of the right hand wall. She guided my wrists into two dangling cuffs, which locked tight with a whir and a click, then retracted up towards the ceiling, spreading me into a half-star shape. Cuffs on my legs followed, leaving me standing spread eagled and ready for ‘treatment’.
“Slave collar, mute,” said Letitia.
That meant I would be shocked if I so much as whispered or grunted. Clearly my owner wanted no protests from me as she made her wishes known to Steffie. To my surprise, Letitia took off my chastity cage and put it away in her handbag. She winked at me and stroked my cock for a moment, then she turned to address Steffie.
“I want all-over depilation except the hair on his head please – his beard and moustache need to go as well, of course. Please make sure you catch all the stray chest hairs and the handful that are left on his legs, and I want you to really nuke the cock and balls to get them super smooth and soft.”
“One virgin coming up,” laughed Steffie.
“Far from it but I like that a lot!” said Letitia, “That’s the look I want – you’re so good at this!”
“I know my customers, Letitia!” said Steffie.
“For sure!”
“What about the rest of your order?”
“Let him wait for that…”
Around the shop were three slaves in the frames, me included, each with an owner and a shop worker standing by. I watched in fascination as a big hairy bodybuilder type was depilated all over then stamped with a loveheart above his cock. They used some kind of nano-ink, which bonded to the skin without penetrating. He blushed when our eyes met, then he looked up at the ceiling. His cock twitched and his young owner flicked it and giggled.
Meanwhile, Steffie donned gloves with a snap of rubber, and busied herself around me. She took up a pot of white goo and opened the lid with a pop, then she knelt down on the white tiled floor and started to spread the cold substance up my legs. She even covered my feet with it, and got it around my toes.
“So do you prefer men with smaller balls?” asked Steffie.
“Oh, Steffie, I know the evidence is against me here but I really do believe they’re more docile and malleable – just what I want from a slaveboy. I find the defiant blustering ones so tiresome, you know?”
“It works well in ponyboys though.”
“Well, sure, how is your husband anyway?”
“Hired out today, he’s pulling fancy carts in a wedding procession then he’ll be part of the entertainment for the evening – I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”
“A free agent tonight then?”
“I’m renting a fucktoy.”
“Nice, is it Brendan?”
“Of course it’s Brendan!”
They both shrieked with laughter but I didn’t get the joke and had no permission to speak. Steffie chatted away with Letitia while the layer of cream on my body slowly rose. Steffie’s expert hands got the goo everywhere it needed to go with the minimum of movement and fuss. I flinched when she grabbed my cock and pushed it around, then again when she parted my buttcheeks, but Steffie never lost concentration.
“He’s ready,” said Steffie a little later.
“Go for it!” said Letitia, with a smile a mile wide across her heart-shaped face.
Steffie grabbed a shower hose and aimed it at me; to my relief the water was warm when it hit me. As the jets rinsed my skin, I felt heat spread through me, as if my skin was glowing or I’d been in the hot sun. Smooth skin revealed itself beneath the goo. Steffie chatted away to my Domina while she got me squeaky clean, then she turned off the shower head with a flourish and declared me ready.
“He’s so shiny and smooth, oh my goodness, what a difference a professional job makes!” said Letitia.
“Tell everyone you know to drop by…”
“I certainly will. Now, then, my beautiful shiny silky slaveboy, you are mine and mine alone now and there are a few things that I want to change. Arabella likes her men unmarked but I think it shows commitment and style to have a few piercings here and there, so it’s time we ringed your nipples and your nose. Oh, and last but not least, your cock.
“I see by the look on your face and the colour of it too, you didn’t realise I could do this? I guess Arabella never explained this – it’s not like she would have thought to do it. Your slave visa allows reversible cosmetic alterations, and with a tiny bit of healing tech, these piercings are just that. Just imagine how good it will be to look down at your dick and see a second symbol of my ownership there, peeking out from the end of the chastity tube. I’ll even be able to leash it.”
I moved my mouth to protest but my collar sent a shock coursing through my body before I could even form words. I jerked in the metal frame; static discharged off my skin and into the stainless steel that held me. Letitia stepped in close to me and stroked my face, then she kissed me on the cheek and let her lips linger. With a finger to her lips, she stepped away.
Steffie wasted no time. I gasped as her pliers pushed a ring through my left nipple. Coldness washed over my skin as Steffie wiped me down with alcohol, then I saw a one-inch wide gold ring sticking right through the erect red flesh. Another snap of the pliers heralded more piercing pain, then the second nipple matched the first.
“All right, slaveboy, the next two are going to hurt. Frame: maximum restraint mode,” said Steffie.
The air was knocked out of my chest from all sides. I looked around to see that extra clamps had sprung out of recesses in the large frame that held me, and I was now held firmly in place all up and down my torso and my legs. More clamps emerged from the highest parts of the frame, slowly snaking their way around my head and tightening to hold me in place looking forward.
Steffie approached me, reached up and squirted some gel into my nostrils. I breathed through my mouth, sucking in a lungful of air and holding it tight, as Steffie came back with the pliers. She smiled at me, with some care in her expression, then she threaded the tool into my nose and pressed it hard. Crunch. I tried to jump but the frame stopped me cold. A new feeling inside my nose took hold, then changed as Steffie threaded the nose ring in.
“Time for the finale. Good choice on the size by the way, this will let him feel it but still fuck easily,” said Steffie.
“I know!” said Domina with a giggle. “Deep breath, Gregory, and do this for me.”
I tried to nod on a reflex but had to make do with mouthing a silent ‘Yes, Domina’ instead. Steffie knelt down and I felt trembling take hold in all my limbs at once; only the strong metal supports that held me kept me from falling. I felt my cock get taken in hand, then a cold metal feeling crept forward along the tip. Snap. I was ringed.
“There, all done. Do you still…”
“Want him marked with his name? Yes, along the shoulders please, I sent you the design.”
“Cool. I’ll just spray on the nano-ink.”
Minutes later I had the word ‘Sausage’ tattooed across my shoulders, and I was kneeling on the floor kissing Steffie’s feet in thanks. She laughed and giggled then bent down and pulled me up, and kissed me on the cheek to say goodbye. Domina got me dressed and led me out of the mall, to a little cafe nearby where we sat together in the morning sun, watching the passersby.
“Sore?” she asked.
“Not very, Domina.”
“You were a really good boy for me back there. Tell me, why is that?”
“Um… how did you expect I’d act?”
“More petulant, more pleading, more struggling… I don’t know. Maybe… Hmmm…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I didn’t answer your question.”
“No, don’t. Not now,” she said, “let’s go do something fun. Fun for both of us, I mean, not more piercings – don’t look so scared honey, it doesn’t suit you at all.”
We did some normal stuff and I felt the tension leaving my body. Letitia took me to the cinema, where we watched an old arthouse science fiction movie; we dissected it at length afterwards in another cafe, then we went for a walk along the riverside, almost like a normal couple. The day drifted by – we went to an art museum and discussed that, then we ate at a nice restaurant and returned home.
Letitia had me strip nude the moment we got in, then she whisked me upstairs to her bedroom and tied me to her bed, with my legs together. She hurled her clothes to the floor and sprang up onto the bed with me, then she straddled me and took my dick in her hand. Her wavy brown hair bounced around as she coaxed my member to life, and her small breasts jiggled.
“I just have to know what it feels like!” said Letitia.
She guided my hard shaft inside her. The ring itself was a little narrower than my erect girth, and now I realised why – it meant her pussy would close around it and sort of glide up and down with the smooth metal. I groaned and just kept on groaning. Wave after wave of tingling pleasure spread along my shaft from the ring itself, connecting me to my Domina in a whole new way.
“Whose are you, slaveboy?” whispered Letitia as the bed bounced beneath us.
“Yours, Domina, only and entirely yours,” I whispered back.
Part 8 – Private Pet Show
“All right, this is your last chance to back out. You’re going full pet for the whole day, with no takebacks or get out clause. Once the mitts go on you’re a human-animal for the next fifteen hours, and nothing else. I’ll be filtering your hearing so you’ll be totally dependent on me. UNderstand? Consent?”
I nodded and barked enthusiastically.
“Good puppy! Let’s get you dressed for the show!”
Letitia walked across her bedroom and opened the dresser drawer I had not been allowed into since her parcel had arrived a few days before. I watched as she withdrew a few items, and my eyes caught flashes of red as she took things out. She rounded on me with a mass of red fabric in her hand, then she spoke the words that would turn on the little implants in my ears, blocking out most human speech.
“Petmale hearing implants: activate, maximum filter. Gabble gabble gabble whoosh gobble bobble sit up puppy!”
My cock rose up stiff when I realised I no longer had any understanding of what anyone around me was saying, bar a few words of command and my name. Letitia bustled around me, wearing a white top and tight jeans, and started to dress me for the show. Rules were that pet-slaves had to be taken there in costume, to make sure the things we wore were practical as well as stylish. From what I could see, Letitia was taking a few risks.
She motioned for me to stretch out my legs and rolled a pair of thick red stockings up them, then laced a bow at the top of each. She strapped on matching booties and kneepads over the stockings, then pulled the straps on those nice and tight. So, she was going for a bit of a fancy puppy look, was she? I drew a deep breath to slow my heart down and reminded myself she usually knew best.
Red mitts with red lace trim followed next, locking around my wrists and rendering me helpless. She fussed around them getting the tightness just right, then came back at me with a red corset that wrapped around my midriff. She hauled on its laces and I sucked in breath. Novel tightness closed in around my chest, and I found I had to breathe differently just to keep air flowing. Letitia tightened that up then looked at me.
“Gobble gabble gabble gobble puppy!” she said, then remembered I could not hear.
She made a sign for me to hold out my neck, then she wrapped a red lacy muff around it that covered over my collar. I was not to be leashed that day, for my obedience was to be tested based on her words of command alone. She knelt down and tied a red bow around my cock, then she covered me with the necessary loincloth for me to go out in public. That done, she led me downstairs to wait in the hallway while she checked her bag and collected her coat. With a click of her fingers, she bade me follow out of the door into the street.
Passersby pointed us out, though many slaves walked those streets and a fancy pet or ponyboy was a fairly common sight. Letitia beamed as she soaked up the attention, and I felt an answering rush of pride to serve her in the way she desired. Two months before I would not have dreamed of having the courage to walk out in public like that, but with her leading the way, it was barely an effort at all.
We rode the monorail downtown, then to my surprise we boarded a train out of the city. As befitted my station, I knelt down in a specially large footwell at Letitia’s feet. Above me, she chatted away unintelligibly to other women in the carriage, occasionally pointing at me and smiling that smile that made my heart soar. The older women cooed over me, and Letitia seemed almost embarrassed by whatever they said. All I caught was ‘pet’, ‘puppy’ and ‘good’.
She took us out of the train station into a waiting car that held another pet trainer and her male charge. The woman was far older than Letitia, perhaps in her sixties, while the pet-slave looked fresh-faced, eighteen or nineteen. I noticed the way he stared blankly around as the women talked: his hearing must have been filtered too. He wore a bright blue bodysuit and a jeweled buttplug. We lolled our tongues and panted at each other as the car took us to the venue.
We pulled up a while later outside a mansion at the heart of a grand country estate. Bunting criss-crossed the courtyard, and everywhere I looked were stalls advertising pet-slave goods, training, pet-slaves themselves, even medical services and hip loosening massages. Every kind of pet-slave and owner was there: butch, femme, sporty, showy (like me), working pet-slaves. The lot.
Letitia took us over to the registration tent, where we waited in line for her to fill out some forms on a tablet then have my slave chip scanned. She shook hands with the organisers, then headed back out and found us a refreshment tent. Now that we were registered and checked, she removed my loincloth, which meant my cock sprang free, leering out as hard as you like. It surprised even me just how much I liked to be seen that way, but I slowly realised why – that pet-self was part of me. Why would I not enjoy a day devoted to it?
“Heel puppy,” said Letitia.
I snapped to her side and kept my face as close to her thigh as I could while she walked inside the mansion. The ruff got in the way, and I had to heel further from her than I would have liked. Letitia didn’t seem to mind, so I was happy with matters. We wove through the mansion’s hardwood-panelled corridors, passing other pet-slaves and their owners, then emerged into a white ballroom with an arched ceiling; from its windows we could see the lawns and gardens at the mansion’s rear.
In the ballroom itself were many, many women and their petmales, all lining up for a series of inspection stations. We joined the back of a queue of five other pairs – trainer and slave – and progressed slowly towards a table where three older women sat together. I got a good view of them feeling up the pet-slaves who were presented to them, up on the table where everyone could see, and gradually it dawned on me I was going to be inspected like that.
I was going to go up on a table, in my red ruff and red tights and red harness, and be shown off to half the room while women inspected my body as if I was livestock. I felt a throbbing in my cock and my mouth began to water. I half wondered if Letitia had drugged my food, but I knew my contract and I’d have had to consent to that. THere in that line, on the floor, on her leash, I had to admit I wanted those women’s hands all over me.
My turn duly came around. “Up,” said LEtitia, then “Stay!” I had hopped up onto the table then I froze on all-fours, ready for my inspection. All three women at the table went at me at once. A busty white woman fondled my cock and balls, then measured it and wrote something down on a tablet. A slim black woman felt my throat as I yapped for her, then she ran her hands along my arms and then down my legs.
The most thorough of the three was a very kind-looking, late middle-aged asian woman with cherry-red lips. She cooed over me and stroked my hair, watching my reaction as I leaned into the caresses of her hand. She flicked my side playfully and laughed as I yipped, then she ran her hands all around my body, feeling the tension in my stance, pushing me this way and that. When she was done, she nodded to Letitia and patted my bottom, then clicked her fingers and pointed at the floor: I climbed down without even thinking about it.
Letitia tweaked my leash, then led us on a winding path through all the other bodies in the room, until we reached the French windows that led into the rear gardens. She pulled me after her, then dropped my leash and squealed when she spotted a girl she knew. I padded after her as she ran up to the girl and hugged her, then I caught the eye of the girl’s very imperious looking pet-slave, who wore a jet-black shiny harness and matching posture collar. He sort of bowed to me on all-fours, and I nodded back slowly. I got no other reaction from him.
The girls fussed around us. Letitia looked over the imperious thin petmale in black, and the new girl, a tall blonde, leaned down to look at me. She had me pant for her, then bark, then sit up and beg. While I held a kneeling display position, she ran her hands around my chest then down to my crotch and grabbed my balls. I yelped as she gave them a firm squeeze, and she laughed in delight at the noise I made. Something she said to Letitia made my owner nod, then smile, but with a little sadness in her eyes. They hugged again.
As a foursome, we walked out together to the middle of one of the ornate garden’s big lawns, then we sat down. Letitia summoned a servant slaveboy who came over bearing a hamper of food; he laid it down on the ground and opened it up, laying out cheeses and grapes, little biscuits, and some drinks. When Letitia waved him away, he bowed and glided away across the grass.
Letita let her friend feed me in little morsels that I licked off her hand. The cheeses ranged from sweet to savoury, and the biscuits had all kinds of herbs and other flavours in them. My hard-on gradually subsided and I was left with a warm glow, from the sun and the company, as we ate and drank together in our little group.
After eating, I lay down on the grass while Letitia and her friend chatted, their words unintelligible to me through the filters. I thought about what we might do with the rest of the day: I had caught glimpses of trials and races here and there around the grounds, but honestly, who knew? Strongest in my mind was the thought of how I would please Letitia, and whether she was sad for the same reason as me.
I didn’t really want to leave her, but I needed to live a life where I did more than go to pet shows, clean floors and lick pussy. Not that I was complaining about my holiday in the matriarchal country, it was simply that I needed more: a career, a purpose. I was not destined to be happy being a house-husband like Letitia’s father, who was perhaps the most caring man I had met at that point in my life.
My owner jerked me out of my reverie with a tug on my leash. We went by the pet-adapted toilets first, which had automated machines for cleaning me up when I lacked the use of my hands, then we headed out to a roped-off ring where we watched a young owner and her middle-aged pet-slave doing tricks while judges looked on.
When they finished, someone called Letitia’s name and my name, and Letitia ducked under the rope and I crawled behind her. About twenty people stood watching us from the outside of the rope, plus the three judges. Letitia led me with a smile on her face, into the centre of the ring, then had me sit in a display posture while she readied herself. One of the judges nodded to her.
“Sausage, beg,” said Letitia.
I blushed a little but most of my blood rushed straight to my dick, which got hard instantly. I looked up at her and widened my eyes, then I begged and whined to her with everything I had. She gazed down at me with fiery eyes, and a broad smile that creased her face, and nodded along as I made begging motions with my paws. The crowd clapped.
“Sausage, roll over,” said Letitia.
I hit the ground and rolled in wide circles while the crowd watched. We should have practised: the ruff was hard to roll in, and Letitia had to pull it down off my chin once when it caught as I came up from the roll. I hoped that didn’t cause her to lose marks or something, but I had to put that out of my mind and carry on the display.
Round and round the grassy area I rolled, while Letitia called out directions – stop, start, left right – and the crowd watched me display myself. I wondered if they were looking at my ruff, my harness, my flapping cock, my bouncing balls, or just the whole package of me as a pet. Did they see a person there, or an extension of Letitia’s will?
“Sausage, balance,” said Letitia.
She had me sit up in the middle of the ring, then she took a biscuit from a little bag and popped it on my nose. I had to weave my body and head very subtly to and fro, backwards and forwards, to keep the biscuit from falling off. The crowd held their breath and watched in silence. The biscuit wobbled, came back, wobbled again, then slid down the side of my face and fell to the floor.
Ten biscuits were in the bag: we went through them all, while the judges watched to see how long and how well I could keep the little treats from falling to the grass. I started to sweat with the effort of holding myself perfectly still, and I became aware of even the slightest breeze that caught my body. Nine more biscuits eventually fell to the floor.
“Sausage, heel,” said Letitia.
We lapped the ring ten times, at different paces, all while I tried to keep in perfect lock step with Letitia as she went round and round. Once or twice I stumbled, and a few times she turned before I was expecting. I saw Letitia’s body stiffen up a little at each mistake, and I yearned to be able to apologise. Above all I wanted to make that day perfect for her, and every error took away from it.
“Sausage, catch,” was the next order.
The crowd laughed as I tried to catch a soft ball in my mouth. Letitia threw it to me from increasing distances and different angles, and I felt my ruff billowing and my cock and balls bouncing around as I jumped and turned to keep trying to capture the ball between my teeth. My owner never let up the pace, never gave me a chance to cringe or blush – just throw, return, throw, return. I saw how she smiled whenever I managed the catch, and my heart raced with desire for her.
“Sausage, display,” was the final command.
Letitia led me in front of the judges, where I held a display posture for sixty seconds. The task seemed to be to hold perfectly in show position, with my legs spread and paws up, tongue lolled out and eyes wide, while the judges watched me for any lack of petness. There was no real way for me to tell, with filtered hearing, so I just held on and tried to be as puppy as possible.
Letitia leashed me up and led me to the side of the ring when that was done. The judges conferred, reached into a box and handed a little yellow rosette to Letitia, who squealed with delight and punched the air. I smiled up at her and she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, then she pressed the rosette to my harness, where it locked on with some kind of adhesive. She led me away with a spring in her step.
We walked through the lawns and gardens going away from the mansion, until we reached a little wood with dense bushes and undergrowth. Here and there I could see women and their pets in the wood, fucking or licking, and I could sense by the urgency of Letitia’s tugs on the leash that she had something similar in mind.
Twenty metres into the wood took us out of sight of the gardens, and Letitia bent down and slid off her jeans, then removed her knickers. With her back against a tree, she pulled my leash until I was level with her pussy and guided my head in. I began to lap away at her clit, not caring at all that anyone else could see us there if they passed by. I needed to connect with her, needed her to feel my devotion. I’d have licked her in the display ring if she’d told me to.
“Good boy,” she said.
I barked into her crotch and she laughed, then I licked her feverishly. Her pants and moans grew louder and stronger, and she started to thrust her hips into my face while pulling my head in with her hands. Like that, she face-fucked me to the point where her climax was just about to happen, then she pulled me in tight to lick at her clit while she came loud and hard.
“Good, good boy,” she panted a few minutes later. “Good boy. Heel.”
I was a little disappointed that she wasn’t going to see to my needs – my cock remained hard but with no one to get me off it wasn’t going to spurt. Letitia knew best, I reasoned – sometimes I was less obedient after an orgasm. She trailed us back through the gardens, weaving past displays of obedience and picnicking groups, until we reached a race track.
Letitia had me watch the races – it seemed like pet-slaves had to compete over four laps of a four-hundred metre track, to see who could come in the fastest. We watched some extremely fit looking slaves dash around first – they mostly jump-ran, using their rear legs to propel them forward in big leaps then using their paws to spring off again. Next was a group much more like me, amateurs who weren’t nearly as strong. They did a mix of jump-running and fast crawling, and I was surprised when the fast crawlers won. It seemed the jump runners had worn themselves out.
I knew what was coming so it did not surprise me at all when Letitia led me to the starting line for a race of fancy pets – pet-slaves like me who were wearing ruffs, fancy harnesses and tights, that sort of thing. Some even had plumes attached to their harnesses to make them extra showy. Letitia put me in the fifth of eight lanes, then retreated to the side of the track.
I got ready to race. I wanted to pace myself out of the box and leave some extra energy for the last lap, in case I was flagging or in case a final sprint could make the difference. I thought jump-running was probably beyond me, and I mainly wanted to finish at all, but the thought of winning kept running through my head. What if I could please her by finishing first?
The starting pistol fired. Laughs came from all around us as eight fancy pet-slaves took off from the starting line and started to crawl and lollop around the track. I heard Letitia yell “Good boy, Sausage” as I finished the first 100 metres and made my way to the inside lane. Ahead of me were five of the other seven pet-slaves, two close, three far out in front.
I moved my arms and legs a little faster and focused on getting enough air into my lungs. All I wanted, all I yearned for, was to be out in front and pleasing Letitia. I passed one pet-slave and came up behind another, but then I heard Letitia’s voice say, “No, Sausage,” so I backed off my pace and took things slower. That was what she wanted, so that was what she got. No arguments from me: good pets obeyed.
At the end of the first lap, two pet-slaves were far out in front, and one had fallen back to the pack of four I was in, and one was far behind. I could see that the one who had fallen back was a little stockier than I, a little shorter, and quite quite out of breath. He gradually disappeared further behind us, and I paid him no more mind.
When the second lap finished I could already feel my limbs starting to burn. I made sure I sucked in breaths as deep and long as I could manage and pushed through the pain, and that meant I stayed in line with the pack and started to close on one of the pet-slaves out in front. I saw that one was far, far ahead, jump running without a care: he would win, I knew, so I was actually really competing for second.
As the third lap drew to a close, one of the pack with me started to jump run away, then another. I braced to join them, though I had rarely moved like that, then I felt some gut instinct cut in: don’t. Those two boys surged away, their cocks and balls bouncing as they went, but after just a hundred metres they were out of breath again.
In the meantime the puppy ahead of us in second had run out of steam. I passed him as I neared the two hundred metre mark on the final lap, then I passed the two puppies who had jump run too early. That left me and one other pet-slave, around my age and build, to fight for second. I heard the crowd clap as the leader finished first.
At a hundred and fifty metres I started to jump run: the other puppy next to me was startled but didn’t try to match me. I heard Letitia yelling “Good boy, Sausage,” and that drove me into a frenzy. My vision blurred and my heart pounded. I lost awareness of my nudity and my costume and just jump-ran as hard as I could, right to the finish. When I looked back, I had clear space between me and the third-placed boy: he looked shocked.
Letitia accepted another rosette then led me through the lawns and gardens and had me lay down near a babbling brook. She got me on my side and began to massage my trembling limbs, all while she cooed ‘good boy’ to me and occasionally stroked my hair. I leaned into her touches and she kissed me; I sighed with deep satisfaction as her hands worked the tension and exhaustion out of my arms and legs.
We lay there together for a while on the grass until I felt calm and whole again. Letitia stroked up and down my flanks, tousled my hair, and held me close. I leaned back into her and nuzzled her, and she laughed her bright laugh that made my hairs stand on end. The sun warmed us and we were content, there together, but by and by Letitia needed to take us to do one more thing at the show.
She led us around to the side of the mansion, where there was some kind of game ready to be played in a large grassy garden full of shrubs and trees. Dozens of pet-slaves were lined up, ready to take part. We watched as women showed us bright red balls, about twenty in total, then disappeared into the garden to hide the balls. They came back, and gave us one command word: find. They pointed to a bin where we were to drop the balls, then said ‘go.
We all raced forward together, fancy pet-slaves, bullish pet-slaves, athletic puppies, basic pets, the lot, about fifty in all, and we spread out through the garden hunting for the red balls. I spotted one lodged in a bush and raced for it, but I was beaten by a stocky puppy who lunged into the bush itself, coming out with cuts to his skin. I was shocked by how little regard for himself he showed: Letitia would never want me to hurt myself like that, I knew that deep in my bones.
I circled around the gardens, dodging hurrying pet-slaves left and right, and spotted a red ball lodged underneath a bend. I made my way to it and got down as low as I could without damaging myself or my clothes. I was able to get the ball in my mouth but when I pulled back, my ruff was caught on a metal fixing beneath the bench seat. I didn’t know what to do, so I froze.
What happened next showed me I was in the right place: another pet-slave saw I was stuck and went to bark at one of the marshals. She came over and gently unstuck me, then patted my bottom and yelled “Go, boy!” to me with a laugh and a smile. I raced back to the big bin and scored a point by dropping the ball in, which drew a “Good boy, Sausage,” from Letitia.
I returned to a different corner of the garden and rooted around in the bushes for another ball. None appeared, but I did come across two pet-slaves rutting and pushing one another over a ball. The stockier of the two dropped it, but instead of grabbing it, the athletic one moved in and charged. I nipped in, grabbed the ball in my mouth, and left while they were still fighting.
While I was looking for a third ball, a bell sounded and all the other pet-slaves gave up and rushed back to the crowd of women. I went with them and found my way to Letitia’s side. I think what happened next was that scores were called out: I got a bronze rosette for getting two balls, but a few other pets had got three or four each, and got silver or gold respectively. Letitia seemed happy enough.
She took us home in a taxi, then a train, then the monorail, then we walked the last bit. As soon as we got through the door of her home, she whisked me upstairs and got me up on her bed, on all-fours, while she donned a big stim-strapon and lubed it up. Letitia chained my legs and paws to the bedframe, then she got up behind me and pushed her cock into my arse.
I yipped, yapped and howled as she fucked me. One of her hands found its way around my body and started to jerk my cock. I breathed in deep to keep from climaxing straight away. Letitia fucked me hard, and I bounced this way and that on the bed as she thrust away. I buzzed with the day’s erotic energy and she knew it: she laughed and slapped my arse playfully as she took me.
“Good puppy!” she yelled.
I barked.
“Good boy!”
I yipped.
“Pet-slave,” she said.
I barked back.
“Gabble gobble gabble,” went the hearing filters, then “silly boy.”
I whined a question and she laughed: she had forgotten my hearing was filtered.
When it hit me the orgasm took my breath away. I just came and came and came, right into the bedsheets, while Letitia coaxed more and more pulses from my cock with her skilled hands. I yipped and yapped my thanks as she kept on fucking me, and I howled with joy when she gave me one final thrust of her strapon deep inside, which sent me almost catatonic with pleasure.
A while later, Letitia cleaned us both up and led me downstairs on my leash. She had removed my costume, but left the mitts on, and she led me into the sitting room where her father and mother were waiting, sitting together on the sofa. They looked down at me and up at her, then smiled.
Letitia unfiltered my hearing.
“I just wanted to let you know two things, mother and father. First, Sausage did very well for a new pet-slave today and I think he shows real promise. Second, and I haven’t told him this yet, Sausage is doing so well as a pet-slave that, in my opinion, he would benefit now from an extended session. So, Sausage, you will be a full-time pet-slave for the next week. Please treat him as a human-animal forthwith. Come, Sausage, you need cage-time to process this.”
Five minutes later she had locked me in the stout metal pet-cage in her bedroom and re-filtered my hearing. She had put me back in chastity and tied a red ribbon around my cock, then she had left me mitted and helpless while she went out to spend an evening with her friends. An hour after she left me, her mother came in and fed me from a bowl, but otherwise I was left alone.
When Letitia returned late in the evening I whined and begged but she just shook her head and shocked my balls. She looked down at me with great love in her eyes, but also with a steely expression on her face, and I was struck by just how much I responded to that. I put my paws up and spread my legs in the cage, and she nodded.
For the next week, she led me everywhere with her on all-fours, always with my hearing filtered, always with my hands mitted. We went to the beach, to the shopping mall, to the pet-park, to her friends’ homes, and all sorts of other places. I found it pleased her immensely to yip and yap when we met someone we knew, so I did that. I found it pleased her if I displayed my caged puppy cock to her friends, so I did that.
I found it pleased her if I came quickly and messily whenever she fucked me or jerked me off – two or three times a day – so I did that. Her power, confidence and control made my whole body buzz with energy, and her mix of kindness and strictness bent my mind into a new shape. I woofed when she came into the room, I whined when she went away, I trotted happily beside her when we went out.
At the end of the week, she finally unmitted me, lay down with me on her bed, and asked me how the experience had been. It took me a while to remember I could speak normally, and she waited patiently while I sorted through my thoughts. I loved that about her, that she knew when I needed time and space.
“I think, Domina…”
“Yes?”
“I think part of me now will always be your happy pet, Domina.”