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Rebecca had never read Gor. She knew of it, mostly from people claiming it was sexist. Given its time period, and its subject matter, it was hard to argue it wasn’t. An entire society built upon the slavery of women to men, and the women were absolutely in love with it. That’s what she knew from skimming Wikipedia when researching the origin of her current Nadu stance.

From a societal perspective, it was a hot mess. From a kink perspective, she understood it completely. No one but someone who enjoyed subservience would be so eager to strip naked, kneel with their legs spread, their palms resting against their thighs and resting upward, whilst lowering their head. And Rebecca did enjoy it, so much that despite her presentation as a patient slave her nubby tail couldn’t stop wagging.

And why should it? She was exactly where she wanted to be. Knees resting on comfortable floor padding. The smell of latex was strong in the air. The weight of her collar against her neck. Even the tormenting bliss of the chastity belt locked over her crotch. All of this was made better by the front row seat she had to her mistress getting dressed.

Amethyst liked to tease. It was in her nature as a brat, something that meant she needed an ice pack for her bum after play. But when Helga wasn’t there to reprimand or punish the vole, a fact that both enjoyed, she found another target in one who could only suffer her torments. She’d lead Rebecca into the basement by her nose ring, commanding the pitbull to strip quickly. Not to put on a show, like a person, but to be naked like the plaything she aspired to be.

But Amethyst, who wore baggy sweat pants and a loose tee, could put on a show. Though Rebecca cast her eyes downward, she couldn’t help but glance up to watch her mistress slowly peel her pants and underwear down, revealing the very same belt that covered the pitbull’s crotch. Helga was strict on who owned what, so long as it was given freely. The key on Amethyst’s necklace wasn’t for her, but Rebecca, though she usually didn’t wear it. Preferring to let her mistress hold both keys as another act of humiliation. To paint that, despite all of Rebecca’s worship, she was still nothing more than Helga’s little muffdiver. A fact made clear by the ownership tramp stamp.

Rebecca licked her lips as Amethyst pulled her shirt up, revealing the thick nipple rings that bounced with the pulled fabric. She tossed the shirt aside, smiling as she ran a ringer along the studs of her collar.

“What to wear?” She said aloud, perusing through the cabinets for her attire. Helga had a style set in stone, but Amethyst still dabbled, saving her entertainment budget on new outfits to try in that pursuit of dominant perfection. She preferred latex to her mistress’s leather, and Rebecca found the material accentuated her best qualities. The divine shine was just a bonus.

Rebecca’s ears twitched at the sound of stretched latex. Amethyst had chosen a latex halter top with sleeves and a matching pair of leggings, leaving everything from her navel to her thighs exposed to better showcase the thick neon green strap-on hanging between her legs. Rebecca stared at the panel covering her mistress’s mound, feeling a sudden sense of irritation that it was there. It drew her in, reminding the pitbull of what she couldn’t have despite her lip-licking desperation. A line of drool fell from her maw, earning a chuckle from the vole as she put on Helga’s hat.

Well, one of the pig’s hats. Mistress Helga always seemed to have a different make of the same peaked leather cap. A collection she held with more regard than her various dildos, if only because she didn’t let anyone else touch them. Unfortunately, Helga wasn’t here, leaving her hats at the mercy of Amethyst’s interest. And, by god, did it look fitting.

The latex glove muffled the snap of her fingers but Rebecca’s spine went stiff to the sound. “Come,” Amethyst commanded. The pitbull did so, on hands and knees with her head bowed in reference, stopping when she saw the glossy shine of the vole’s black boots. She expected one to be put forward, poised for the touch of her lips in worship. But they weren’t, so she waited, waited, and waited until building the conviction to look up with wanting eyes.

“Why aren’t you kissing it?” Amethyst asked. It wasn’t a trick, but a test.

“You didn’t command me, Mistress,” Rebecca said. She wasn’t a brat like Amethyst, impatient and eager to get a rise out of her dominant to be reprimanded ten-fold. She was a good girl, obedient to a fault, and had played with both her partners long enough to notice the non-verbal commands.

“Good girl,” Amethyst said, her praise as soft as silk. Latex gloves patted the pitbull’s red headfur as her mistress leaned forward, “I can’t expect you to be a mind reader. But tell me, with that smart college girl brain of yours, why didn't I order you to kiss my boots?”

“It’s only community college, Mistress,” Rebecca said, breaking character with a flustered snicker. She wasn’t used to that kind of praise in session.

“Education is education, mutt,” Amethyst insulted her with affection, “Now answer the question.”

The question. Rebecca forgot it. She’d just heard it and tried frantically to remember but the violet eyes of her lover made all attempts splatter against the wall of her skull. “I…I don’t know, Mistress,” she said finally.

“I love it when you’re honest,” Amethyst said, trailing a latex-gloved fingers along the pitbull’s pouting lips. “Especially when it makes you ashamed. It’s so cute to see you struggle.” It slipped past her lips, sinking inside the Pitbull’s maw to urge it open like a doctor with a popsicle stick. “The reason I did not order you to kiss my boots, is that I did not wish to sully my lips with the aftertaste.”

She held Rebecca’s chin as their lips met. Her tongue slithered inside, wrestling the other to submission without a fight. Nothing but short shared breaths, each hot and wet, and the subtle moan of the two women. Rebecca melted to her touch. If Amethyst was a succubus she’d let her steal everything away then and there. But she was mortal, and could only take what was given.

Hands held Rebecca’s maw open when Amethyst pulled back. The pitbull’s nubby tail buzzed with excitement as she saw a thick dollop of saliva descend from Amethyst’s mouth, its thin thread snapping under gravity’s touch. Rebecca laid her tongue flat to catch it, curling the pink muscle like she’d scooped up water from a feral doggy bowl.

Her mistress smiled, “Good girl,” she whispered, with words as soft as silk. “How does it taste?”

It had no discernible taste but there was one word that fit her feelings. “Divine, Goddess.”

“Oh, slipping into heresy, aren’t we?” Amethyst, an atheist, teased. She pulled Rebecca’s head back, tilting her to face those violet eyes. “But that’s what I am to you, isn’t it? Your goddess. You worship me, worship the very ground I walk upon.”

Rebecca nodded against the grip, “Yes, Goddess,” she said with shaking breath.

“Even when my mistress uses me?” Amethyst asked, clearly enjoying the praise. “Do you feel ashamed, humiliated perhaps, when Helga insults me? When she makes me act as her personal cunt rag? Do you feel shame when I call her Mommy?”

If not for subspace Rebecca would have laughed. Instead she nodded with her face flushed red. “Do you enjoy seeing your goddess defiled?” Amethyst asked, her breath brushing against Rebecca’s wet nose.

“Yes, Goddess.”

“How horrible,” Amethyst teased, pinching Rebecca’s cheek, “And why’s that? Why does my devoted servant enjoy watching me suffer?”

She gulped. “It’s…it’s not suffering, Goddess. She…she makes you happy in a way I can’t.”

“So true, so true,” Amethyst said, wiping the tears from Rebecca’s eyes, “It’s not in your nature. But there’s something else about witnessing it that you enjoy. Something I want you to say.”

Her heart raced. Rebecca tried to look away only for Amethyst to hold her steady. She bit her lip. Heat pooled in her chest. Her maw wavered. She gulped and cleared her thoughts with a cleansing breath. “Because I’m a cuckpuppy.”

“Yes,” Amethyst said after a kiss, “Who’s cuckpuppy?”

“Your cuckpuppy.”

“My cuckpuppy,” Amethyst grinned. “My precious pet who loves to watch her goddess get humiliated and used by a mistress over twice her age and four times the experience. My cuckpuppy, who eagerly cleans my mistress’s toys just to get a taste of me.” A finger slipped past her lips and down her throat. Rebecca shuddered with glee, steading herself to enjoy her mistress, her goddess’s touch all over her. Inside and out. “It’s crazy she loves to suppress the gag reflex,” Amethyst said to herself about Helga, “I swear, she’s got some penis envy.”

Amethyst could, and did, slip all four fingers down Rebecca’s throat, marveling at the fruits of labor from both her lovers. A playful slap of her drenched hand coated the pitbull’s chin with saliva.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

“Your cuckpuppy.”

Another slap.

“Who are you?”

“Your cuckpuppy.”

Another slap. Another reward to tingle her masochistic nerves.

“Do you love me?” Amethyst asked.

“Yes, Goddess,”

Slap.

“Say it.”

“I love you, Goddess.”

Slap.

“Say my name.”

Rebecca bit her lip at the sharp sting surging over her face. “I love you, Amethyst,” she said. Her mistress smiled hungrily, wrapping her arms around to hold the pitbull close as her teeth playfully nipped at her skin. Rebecca’s voice cracked as she repeated the phrase, earning another soft bite. The vole’s teeth braced her shoulder, her collar bone, her arms, and trailed down her chest where she suckled her pierced nipples between playful, teasing, pinches of her teeth. Rebecca fell over as her mistress slowly tackled her to the floor, still repeating the phrase but with subtle changes in the vole’s name to either Amethyst, Amy, Amelia, Mistress, or Goddess. In short moments Amy laughed, letting her dominant facade crack before her lover just enough to warrant a bashful chuckle from the pitbull. Her eyes narrowed just as quickly, pulling back over the dominating sneer Rebecca let weigh her down.

The strap-on cock pressed against the chastity shield between Rebecca’s legs. The pitbull whined between the love bites. Amethyst pursed her playmate’s lips. “Does my little cuckpuppy want out of her belt?” She asked with the sweetest mocking voice she could muster. Rebecca nodded, pouting with desperate eyes that would break anyone’s heart. But her goddess wasn’t just anyone. Amethyst’s smile was more sadistic than she believed herself to be. “Hmm…I think not,” she said, fumbling the key hanging off her collar. “In fact, I shouldn’t even be wearing it right now, should I?”

“But…but that’s my key.”

“Shh, wrong, cuckpuppy,” Amethyst shushed her with a finger, “It’s my key. My key to do with as I please. You knew as much when you gave it to be. Besides,” she cupped Rebecca’s cheek, “You’re going to tell me you don’t get wet at that little ‘betrayal’? That you aren’t excited by the prospect of Helga holding dominion over both of us?” She leaned closer, her warm body laying upon the saliva and tooth marked stomach of Rebecca as she whispered, “Like you weren’t there to see me hand it off?”

She remembered it well. It was a month after moving in. A month of finally getting the nerves to establish what they’re dynamic would be. Rebecca saw Amethyst’s caged cunt and offered hers up in solidarity, more because the idea of someone else holding control was still right in her mind, even with her newfound freedom. Helga had done the measurements, and Amethyst had bought the belt. She kneeled with grace when she handed Amethyst the key, and felt a slight pang of betrayal when she witnessed her handing it to Helga. But it was overshadowed by this newfound lust at being so easily transferred to another. Helga had made it clear Rebecca needed to approve, and she had done so upon seeing Amethyst’s look. She’d not been a switch for long, but it was then where her dominant desires flourished. Helga and Allison could beat her flesh tender, but Amethyst loved to strain her mind.

Rebecca knew all of this and still whined. As if her pathetic mewling could manifest the key in her lock. Even if it could, there was no guarantee Amethyst would twist it, especially with the way her mistress looked at her. That satisfied sadistic grin of someone taking their time.

“Awww,” the vole shushed her, cupping Rebecca’s face with both hands, “I know, you want out. And you’ve been such a good girl. But I don’t think I should unlock it without her present.” That was a lie. “But there’s another way to get you off, isn’t there? I know because she trained me the same way. So, beg for it. Beg for it and I may oblige.”

Her nubby tail blurred with excitement as her asshole clenched. “Please…please take my ass, Goddess.” She said, unable to look away from Amethyst’s grip.

“Hmm…” Amethyst thought aloud, intentionally delaying to the point that even Rebecca found it annoying, “Ok. Scoot around and show me that pittie booty.”

She practically jumped at the command, twisting around and raising her ass before the vole. When she was a fighter her ass had less meat on it, more muscle from squats. She didn’t exercise as much anymore, letting a small layer of fat round out her backside. Something that a twig like Amethyst found a little envious judging by how she grouped those cheeks.

“You know, we should get you some dance lessons. Maybe get you to twerk for Helga on her next birthday. Or mine.” The thought of performing for Helga, with Amethyst laying on her lap like the loyal slave she was, made Rebecca’s chastity shield more accursed than it already was. Her ears perked at the sound of a bottlecap being flipped open. She sniffed the air, catching the subtle scent of the lube. A quick smack from Amethyst kept her from bouncing her cheeks. She bit her lip as her mistress spread her ass, lining the wet tip of her toy around the well-trained hole.

“You’ve gone quiet, pet,” Amethyst said, holding her toy steady, “Do you not want this?”

“N-No, I do, goddess.”

“Then beg for it.”

“B-But I already did.”

“And if I wanted you quiet, I’d have gagged you. Your pleading is music to my ears. Who are you to deny me my enjoyment?”

“I’m sorry, Goddess,” Rebecca said with playful shame. “Please, fuck me, Goddess.”

There was a difference to how Amethyst and Helga used a strap-on. For Helga it was an extension of herself, slowly building up speed and tempo whilst using their partner as a sounding board for progress. It was as if her cock wasn’t the strap-on but the person she pounded. Amethyst, by either inexperience or general disinterest in pitching, used it like how she imagined most men did; ram right in without much care for the person taking it. Thankfully, Helga’s training made that bearable, and her love of Amethyst’s attitude made it enjoyable.

A quick smack to her ass brought Rebecca to attention. “I didn’t tell you to stop. Keep up the worship my little devotee.”

Rebecca sung her praises. Through bitten lips and gasps she winced and whined, letting the toy spread her wide. Amethyst’s thrusts were quick and deep, her breathing deeper. The vole leaned in to smother her devotee with kisses and bites, the chill of her nipple rings digging into the pitbull’s back.

She was trying. Her weakness showed in her thrusts, her exhaustion clear on her breath. Amethyst had surprisingly little stamina for a former track star, but pitching was complicated. Rebecca bounced with the thrusts to match, soon overtaking her goddess’s efforts through no fault of her own. She was close, so close, she just needed a little more.

“Fuck…” Amethyst cursed under her breath, “How does she do it?” She could not help but compare herself to Helga when domming. Unfair in Rebecca’s eyes, for Helga had both the experience to pitch and an obsession with the act. Luckily Amethyst was quick enough to capitalize on her lack of energy.

She pulled out and spanked Rebecca’s backside. Taking to the black throne of Helga’s dungeon, Amethyst ushered her plaything over with a wave of her slick strap. “Show me your devotion,” she commanded, directing the pitbull to climb up her lap. With her goddess’s hands on her rump for support, Rebecca rode the dildo up her ass. Rode it with energy to spare whilst the vole did her best to keep a domineering demeanor.

The rush of pleasure shivered across her body. Rebecca clutched the throne with tight hands, her red bun breaking from the constant bouncing and now rolled out drenched over her scalp. Her blue eyes locked with Amethyst’s violet, watching her mistress’s dominance dissipate as their session drew to a close. A blissful, if bittersweet, moment sealed by a kiss while the toy slipped out of her.

For a moment the two stayed there. Their bodies clung together with sweat and passion. Then Amethyst asked her off because Rebecca, being the fittest, was heavier.

Rebecca took the moment to marvel at all of Amethyst’s lovebites before speaking up, “I can still get you off you know.”

Amethyst’s snort was almost like Helga’s. A playful one that sounded dismissive to outsiders but was the opposite to those in the know. “Not your place to.” She tapped her own chastity shield. “But maybe if you’re lucky, Helga will let you taste her fingers when she’s done with it.”

“You always assume she’s going to get you off.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Amethyst teased, “Despite the chastity, Helga isn’t one to deny. She just likes to edge me, keep me on my toes. But there’s always a climax. She spoils me like that. The trick is how long she’ll make me last.”

“Even when she doesn’t take your belt off?” Rebecca asked.

Amethyst grinned. “Worked with you, didn’t it?” The pitbull blushed, “Anyway, we should get that off to clean you up.” She sniffed herself and grimaced, “But I call first dibs on the shower.”

“We could always share.”

“It’s not that big of a shower,” Amethyst said, adding when she noticed Rebecca’s smirk, “And shower sex is overrated.”