Enjoying Yourself?
This story is inspired by this image that comes from this commission. I have no idea who the actual characters are, and I have no interest in finding out. I'm writing this story for entertainment, not to try and steal characters or something like that. Anywho, I hope you enjoy my piece!
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Emily was a bad bitch. She was locked in the basement of her master's home and in almost complete darkness. Her only source of light was a window on the wall to the right, the faint glow of which indicated it was morning. But lighting was the least of the slave's concerns, considering she could barely move her body. Emily's wrists, stomach, and thighs were tightly constrained to a metal frame via leather straps. This metal frame was like a miniature table that stood just over a foot high, leaving everything below her knee laying on the ground. The "tabletop" was a cushioned, leather block where most of Emily's body laid. However, it was small enough to leave the most important bits on display. To top it all off, the poor girl wore a leather muzzle and thick collar that also connected to the frame. These constraints cut off her oxygen supply and left her lightheaded. But she learned to adjust. And besides, disobedience warranted discomfort.
Being restrained for what felt like countless hours left her exhausted and restless. Her usually perfect form became a fidgety, sweaty mess who eagerly awaited her master's return. Simple tasks like standing on two feet now seemed like a luxury, and she was willing to degrade herself to no end for that freedom. Or at least she told herself that. When her master did return, Emily's hope turned into fear; fear of what horrific punishment he had in mind for her. With each footstep creaking down the staircase, she wanted to hide in the corner and cover herself up. Once the lights turned on, Emily's blush became deathly apparent.
"Enjoying yourself?" her master purred, his eyes looking over the girl's curvaceous figure as he stood in a pair of yellow briefs. His name was Blake O'Neal, and unlike the border collie slave, Blake was from the far more aggressive race known as the Tasmanian Tigers. Although few of these anthropomorphs remained, the ones who did tended to be powerful and successful. They are a cunning and intelligent species who, consequently, tend to be arrogant and perhaps sadistic. Blake was no exception. Physically, he had a lean, tanned figure that stood at a standard 6'1. His eyes were a piercing yellow that bored into the soul of even the coldest of individuals. He possessed a long, thick tail that stretched several feet behind him. And perhaps most importantly, Blake was well endowed. He possessed a seven inch, uncut cock with a thickness great enough to make any submissive writhe in pleasure.
In any case, the muzzle around Emily's face gave little room to open her mouth, resulting in an unintelligible response. Her master approached regardless, staring her down with what felt like malicious intent. The lighter introduction suddenly felt serious, and this scared her. Emily's heart was racing by the time he stood directly in front of her and bent down on one knee, a whine coming from the muzzle as she tried to look away. But Blake got her attention back with a firm grip around the jaw, saying as their eyes connected, "I know you'd beg for forgiveness if I unstrapped this muzzle. But I'm not going to. No, I'm expecting you to obtain mercy. Talking back to me is absolutely inexcusable, and last night showed me that you haven't learned your position in this household." The master scowled, raising himself back on two legs. He looked down with anger and disappointment, analyzing how she responded. She responded with several, desperate whimpers, her sore muscles tugging at the restraints. Blake's punishments weren't a joking matter. They were few and far apart, but the ones Emily received were never forgotten. She tried to beg and reason - anything to avoid what Blake had planned - but the muzzle nullified them. Hearing no (coherent) objections, Blake turned to face the door and let out a loud, high pitched whistle.
Silence followed. Confused, Emily looked up at her master and then at the open, basement door. She became even more confused when the faint pitter-patter of her Master's dog came into earshot; the feral Border Collie skipping down the steps and arriving at the basement to greet Blake. The stud was at a prime age of four, and had an underbelly of white fur that coincidentally matched that of Emily's. In fact, the stud shared multiple traits with the girl that Blake found to be amusing, although none were intentional. "Hey there, Oscar," Blake coaxed in a much nicer tone, bending down to scratch behind the ears. Oscar accepted the affection, staring happily at Emily who was on the same eye level as him. She then realized what Blake had in mind, and confusion turned into disgust. Her cheeks burned red with embarrassment as the dog stared at her obliviously. More than anything, she wanted to believe this was just her sick imagination. But Blake had talked about pairing the two in the past, even though it no longer seemed like a joke.
"P-plse, no Srr!" she managed to squeak through the muzzle, her hips attempting to violently wiggle out of the firm leather. But no matter how hard she tried, her ass remained wide open to any creatures with the interest of fucking.
"You have no say in this matter, girl. I can only hope that Oscar here will teach you some manners." Blake then directed Oscar behind the girl's field of view, a devilish grin coming across his face. Emily began to panic, desperately trying (and failing) to compromise with her Master in the pleads she squeaked out. She often degraded herself for her master's pleasure, but nothing seemed worse than being dominated by a creature who couldn't even speak a language. Blake silenced these fears with a hard, abrupt slap to the girl's toned ass. Instead of pleads, an ecstatic moan filled the muzzle from the painful vibrations that coursed through Emily's lower half. Blake's strong grip remained on her rump, lightly groping as he responded in a firm, soothing tone, "You can beg as much as you want, but that won't change anything. I've already thought this over, and it's the only way you'll learn. You can either get this over with like a good slave, or continue acting childish and spend another night here." The attention her ass received gave her an odd comfort. You see, Emily feared her master in the way people fear God, where she has love and affection but absolutely loathes his wrath. This love and affection was why she found relaxation in his grasp, even if the whole debacle was started by him.
"Now, before anything else, I'm going to be plugging your asshole. We don't want Oscar ending up in the wrong hole, after all," Blake muttered, leaving the girl's ass once she calmed down. To make sure Oscar didn't try anything, he ordered his pet to follow as Blake walked to the back wall of the basement. An array of cabinets and drawers lined this wall, each filled with sex toys that were either spares, unusual or simply unused. Being too lazy to go upstairs and find his primary equipment, he haphazardly searched around until he found a clear colored buttplug and a bottle of cum lube. While this went on, Emily started to worry again. Without the ability to look backwards, she expected to be mounted by Oscar at any moment - to be made a fucktoy by the creature she believed was lower than her. Fortunately, her master returned before the dog even thought of such a thing. Standing by his slave, Blake gave the toy a thorough lubrication before dropping the bottle on the ground. Now prepared, he bent over and exposed Emily's tight asshole. " This is a little bigger than what you have upstairs. But as long as you stay relaxed, you'll be fine," Blake explained, prodding the secondary pussy to prepare her.
Excluding a flared base, the cone-shaped plug reached its thickest point at two inches. Blake expected for Emily to start gushing when he did more than prod, and he was correct. Emily bit on her bottom lip rather hard, her hips swaying with uncertainty of how to react to the large object. Relief came over Emily after passing the cone's high point. She let out a loud, pleasurable sighed, her pink slit feeling more than relief as the cone stuffed her asshole. Blake took his hand off the plug and instead forced her tail upwards, amusing himself with the resulting view. He wanted to ravish her, but this wasn't his turn.
"Beautiful," Blake whispered, letting his slave's tail drop from his hand. He stood back up, looking down at his pet with excitement. (The feral one, that is.) He gave Oscar a grin, because Oscar had been looking at Emily's ass too, and he seemed to be interested. "That's the only preparation we need to make," Blake hinted when giving his dog a pat of encouragement, watching as Oscar trotted over to Emily's backside. She heard the approaching stud, and he terrified her. One of the filthiest acts imaginable was going to happen, and there was no way to stop it. Blake moved into view by walking directly in front her. He dropped back onto one knee and stared into her eyes, saying with his remaining grin, "Look at me when he fills you, bitch. I want to see what it's like when you feel your punishment." Emily frowned, wishing she could bark back with some resemblance of a sarcastic comment. It was an awfully bad habit for a slave, considering sarcasm was the reason she was in this mess. However, any will to fight disappeared when Oscar's nose nuzzled her ass. The scent of a female's sex verified his urges, and it took little time before Oscar straddled the girl. Emily found herself frozen in place. A wave of fear, disgust and submission ran through her. Her eyes started to water, yet they couldn't look away from Blake. They may have been on the same eye level, but Emily felt far lower. It took a few attempts, but Oscar found the hole and plunged in. He plunged in deep.
Emily cried out rather loudly. Her body was forced forwards from Oscar's thrust, who now held a rapid pace against her pussy. Although he was about the same size as Blake (minus the knot), Oscar's pacing was brutal enough to daze Emily. She lost eye contact with her master, and all focus went to the object stretching her insides. Oscar's paws clawed into her skin for support, leaving scratches along the side and underbelly of his victim. Her breathing became light and fast due to the sensory overload, causing her to be light headed once again. Emily felt utterly defeated. The whole concept disgusted her beyond description, but the sensation was unique. And to her dismay, even a little arousing. Blake saw this on weary face, so he stood up and looked over the scene in its entirety. Watching his slave be treated in such a manner aroused him, the most notable sign being the bulge inside his briefs. Considering all the work he put in, Blake decided to drop his underwear and reward himself. Although he considered using his slave's mouth, he decided against it. This was supposed to be punishment, after all.
When Emily's eyes came into focus, she hazily looked up and discovered her master stroking his large cock. Her arousal grew as she watched in awe, trying to blame any arousal on him. This excuse worked in her mind, and she almost began to enjoy what was happening. Her muffled groans turned into moans of pleasure, even if they were very embarrassed ones. She dripped with juices of ecstasy, the strands of sex rolling down her inner thighs as Oscar kept pounding. 'I'm not enjoying this' became 'I don't want to enjoy this', making Emily more frustrated than any previous point in her life. However, this made her master rock hard. "Having fun down there?" he mocked, extending his foot to hit against her cheek. She was becoming too numb with pleasure to respond, her back arching and her ass pressing backwards to receive more of the feral cock. It was incredibly wrong, but sluts accepted terrible things when they were horny. Emily managed a meek nod, her cheeks burning as Blake chuckled. It was then, in her lowest moment of acceptance, that she was thrown a curve ball - the knot.
Emily didn't expect the bulbous base to push into her already filled pussy and fill it even more. She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, the dog wasting no time to continue fucking. A long string of whimpers escaped her throat. Her pussy ached, yet Emily was in bliss. Her disgust was being discarded by the slutty side of her personality, and she stopped caring where the cock came from so long as it was cock. This was no longer a punishment, but a standard reminder of her position in the household. All of these thoughts rattled around her mind, bending her frail ego completely out of shape. The growing knot was messing with her emotions, as the pleasure she felt was becoming impossible to blame on Blake. These few minutes created a new chapter in Emily's history of servitude; a chapter where the uppity female became more submissive than even Blake realized. It marked a turning point where Emily became dependent on her master for emotional and pleasurable guidance. This transformation was complete when Oscar made his final thrust forwards and filled the slave with seed. His throbbing member pumped load after load into Emily's nether regions, the hot juices sending shivers down her spine. It never occurred to her how much ferals put out when they orgasmed, but she didn't mind. She actually enjoyed the warmth of cum overflowing and running down her thighs. Once Oscar was spent, he laid down on Emily's back but kept the thick shaft inside of her. Her eyes glanced back at the stud who seemed happy. She felt the same.
Moments later came a second wave of cum that now resulted from Blake. His cock shot strands of seed all over the exhausted girl's face. Emily winced when the thick liquid hit her face, though she wished to lick it all up. Satisfied, the master bent down to his bitch and playfully ruffled her hair.