Pet's Punishment 9/10: Simplicity
#9 of Pet's Punishment
I was worried, when I got home, that I'd find my Pet angry for having put him in such a position. Slowly, I found myself opening the door to our apartment, a despondent look on my face, ready to apologize.
He almost knocked me over.
My reflexes kicked in, prior experience guiding my paws to catch my Pet as he leapt into my arms, wrapping his paws around my neck, lapping at my muzzle, eyes wide and lips smiling, a Pet celebrating his Master's return. It's a good thing I'd caught him, too, or the two of us would have gone rolling onto the sidewalk, his fur bare save for his collar and diaper.
I decided not to raise the subject as I chuckled and nuzzled his fur, setting him down gently, only for him to press himself eagerly to me, quivering nose drawing in my scent. My heart warmed. This is one of his favorite moods. He lets the cares of the world drop away and lives for the moment, putting himself as much in the mind of a Pet as is possible, trusting me to make sure it all turns out alright. I can't say I don't enjoy it, as well. There's nothing he wants more than to please me, and without his inhibitions . . .
I turned, closing the door, as his paws went to my belt. He nuzzled the small of my back.
"I'm so glad you're home, Master!" he announced. It was simple truth. Everything becomes simple when he's like this. He undid the fly of my slacks, and drew them down, along with my underwear, before his paws dove up, under my shirt, no longer tucked in, digging into my fur.
"I'm glad to see you too, my Pet." I wasn't sure what to do as his head followed his paws, drawing my shirt tight. He held me in his plush embrace, bringing himself as near to me as he possibly could: pure, simple desire for closeness. I began to undo my shirt. If he was going to be like this, it could only get in the way.
He followed me around the house like an eager puppy as I checked the kitchen for dinner ingredients, went through my desk for bills to be paid or paperwork to be done. He sat on the floor and waited, stubby tail wagging happily against the floor, licking or sniffing at my thighs, occasionally, as I emptied the dishwasher. There's no point in trying to engage him in conversation like this. He's not thinking about the past or future, and he likes it that way. I thought about what we might do once these minor chores were done: maybe simple games like fetch, or put on some music, and dance with him, let him move his body without a care or shred of self-consciousness . . .
As I bent to pull the last bowl from the dishwasher, I heard the faint rustling of his diaper behind me. Turning my head to see where he'd gone, I was distracted when a sudden warmth washed over my body.
"Oooohhh," a sigh rushed out of me. Hot, wet, soothing, rough rabbit tongue lashed under my tail, working at the hottest, sweatiest, muskiest part of me without warning or preparation.
"Oh, yes! That's soooooo good!" I encouraged him, barely mustering the control to leave the bowl on the counter before I had to lean against it with both paws, my whole frame shuddering with the sudden onslaught.
Pointing his tongue like a spear, he alternated between pressing inside me and lapping around my under-tail. Each push went deeper: warming, stretching, licking my inner walls, easing away stress and worry, flooding my body with just a fraction of my Pet's carefree joy.
My sheath swelled, my black cock tip already showing. Along with his joy came at least part of his lust.
I turned to him, pulling my rump from his ministrations and bringing my paws to his shoulders. His eyes still held that impossibly bright gaze, drinking in the sight of his Master. He tried to pull forward, to lap at my face, but I held him at bay, knowing full well where that tongue had been. Sinking to a sitting position on the floor, I guided him lower.
"Mmmhh, yes," he moaned, licking his lips as he pressed his nose into my balls. The sudden cold sensation punctuated by hot breaths forced a gasp out of me as he resumed his frantic licks, working his way up my sheath until at last he suckled on my cock-head.
He wasted no time. He was eager, greedy, feral. He stood on his forepaws and knees, nursing at my length, moaning and huffing, coaxing me onwards, faster and faster. His head bobbed up and down rapidly, his tongue wriggled and spasmed madly, and his throat sucked voraciously. Within minutes I was pumping into his muzzle, pre drooling against his tongue, paws supporting me on the floor, eyes closed, ears listening to the frantic sucking and the desperate pounding of his nose into my wooly crotch-fur, his chin against my increasingly tight sac.
His lust was obviously fired. His hips rocked, his ears splayed, his right footpaw twitched, pushing him forward spasmodically. Every shiver of his went straight up my spine, every lick bathed my mind in pleasure. I could feel the seed churning up from my balls, drawn by his lust, urged onwards by his hungry, needy lips.
He lifted his head for one final thrust, forcing his lips and tongue against my tip with maximal resistance, still sucking desperately, seeking to draw every drop possible from my slit. Each limb, each muscle forced my crotch upward into his maw. I roared, and my body gave way: thick, hot cum rushing out of me and into my Pet. The room echoed with my cries of joy, filled with our musk.
When at last I came down from that orgasmic high, my Pet still nursing oh so gently at my softening length, his body trembling, his hips still rocking, I noticed that my cock was not the only thing he'd clamped down on at climax. While I had filled his maw with seed, he'd filled his diaper seat as well. I stroked his delicate head fur, and he looked up at me, chin still wet with pre, beaming as only a self-satisfied Pet can.
"Looks like someone enjoyed himself." I reached forward, and patted his messy, full rump padding.
He didn't blush. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He'd done exactly what his Master expected.
"Come on, let's get you changed."
He followed me, on all fours, into the bathroom.