Puppy Girl

Good grief, what the hell was wrong with me? I pressed my hands against my eyes, blocking out the morning sunlight, and trying to push the vivid images I'd dreamt the night before. Per the usual, I fantasized about life as true, obedient, and sultry pet. But never, ever, had I imagined it with such clarity, or detail. And to top it all off, my fantasy master was the psychology professor I'd just opened up to.

Oh god, Dr. Donnely... I'd agreed to meet with her again, at her house no less. How was I supposed to talk about my submissive feelings while she was involved in them? And didn't she say that she had been a sub before, how would that even make sense that I imagined her in such a role? It must have been the way she carried herself. Someone so young, yet she was entirely composed; leading the group of her colleagues, her posture and attitude were so dominant. Did she have a closet, side personality too?

I had class in about an hour, so I forced myself up and out of bed, and into my daily routine. I was still plagued by my fantasy, feeling each moment as the seconds ticked by in the day. It kept me in a mild state of arousal for the whole day, but I was nervous and apprehensive too.

That night, I sat next to Andrea, as we watched some mindless TV programming. After a while, I turned to her.

"Hey, again, thanks for setting up our meeting yesterday," I began slowly. "She really is a great listener, and said some things to put me at ease a little."

Andrea was sharp though, and she figured out that there was something else on my mind.

"You're welcome, Brooke, but what do you really want to say?"

"Well, it's more just her, about who she is..."

"Okay..." She was obviously interested to see where I was going with this. I wanted to ask her if she knew about Dr. Donnely's past, more than the little tidbit she'd offered to me. But how do I ask someone, that obviously has this woman on a pedestal?

"Well she kind of hinted at something about her, about her past, her love life, I guess..." I said, trailing off.

There was recognition in her eyes, and for a second, I thought she knew what I was talking about.

"Oh, yeah, she must have told you about her ex husband. She got married young, but she broke it off shortly after she realized just how much it wouldn't work out." Andrea recounted. "It helped me; I had been really worried about finding the right guy before I left school, but now I don't feel like I have to force anything."

Andrea smiled warmly, her arms on her own shoulders, almost like she was hugging herself. Dr. Donnely was obviously important to her, as a mentor, and personal guide. I just smiled back, and kept the rest of my questions and doubts to myself.

It had to be me: these ridiculous fantasies must be stemming from my still unfulfilled desires. Okay, I know now that I want something like that, a kind of submissive, controlled role. My thoughts drifted to David, and I shuddered. It was obvious something was missing there, besides being unprepared and overwhelmed. I didn't feel any compassion; the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Even with my plain, ordinary relationships, there was a constant of deep care between us. It seemed juxtaposed with my kinkier turn-ons, like being tied up, and dominated, but was it too much to ask for a man to walk that line?

There was the other question though, was I just attracted to men? Never before in my life had I considered the idea that I was a lesbian. But unwillingly, I'd had some experience. I thought about fragile little Christina, how obedient she was to David, but she had gone down on me (quite eagerly it seemed), and I couldn't lie; it felt good. I licked my first pussy too, and all other things aside, I can't say it was that objectionable. Did I like it, even?

And there was Dr. Donnely in my dream... Could that mean that I was attracted to her? I certainly didn't wanna rip my clothes off when I was meeting with her, but then again, she did have a very strong aura about her. I ran my hands through my hair, shaking it, messing it up purposely. I stared at the wild looking, crazy-haired girl standing in my mirror, and it made me laugh. Yea, I guess I was crazy, but first step is admitting it, right?

A month ago I was scared, and nervous, but at least I thought I knew what I wanted. Now, with every step I took into this new role, into this new world, my expectations, and my desires were changing. I tried to just focus on Dr. Donnely's advice: approach it like I would regular dating. I needed to open myself to meeting someone, and get comfortable enough to talk about it.

I sent a text to the number Dr. Donnely gave me, and let her know that I'd be available next week in the evenings if she would take the time to talk with me again. I didn't have to wait long, she responded quickly.

*I'd love to have you, please come by Monday, at 7:30PM*

She gave her address too, and I bit my lip. The phrasing certainly didn't help. But I'm sure my crazy head would sort itself out. I mean, she was older than I was. Well, I guess not that much older... but still, she was a professor, I was a student. Well, I suppose she'd never be my professor...

I physically shook my head back and forth; I couldn't believe I was even having that self-debate! I needed a distraction. Fortunately it was the weekend, and maybe I could drag Andrea out with me.

Night rolled around, and I dug through my clothes to find an outfit I liked. I donned a nice silver shiny tank, a nice black skirt, with just a little bit of a leg cut. I plucked and picked at myself, did my makeup until I was satisfied. Andrea had agreed to join me, but I knew she wouldn't take even half as long. She didn't really care much about fashion and makeup, but she was blessed with a very nice, natural look.

We got to our regular bar near campus, ordered a couple fruity drinks. We chatted; the bar was just starting to get busy. Time whizzed by, and before I realized it, I had 3 or 4 drinks in me, and Andrea wasn't far behind. It was fun to watch her cut loose like this. We saw a few people we know, and unsurprisingly, we were soon joined at out standing table by a few guys. They were generally funny, and they bought us a round. It was loud, and it was fun. I laughed, and snuck in a joke, being as witty as I could muster.

One of the guys (something with a T, but I had no other clues as to what his name was) sort of pulled me aside.

"Hey, I gotta say, you are totally hot tonight. I hope this isn't the last time I'll get to see you."

I smiled; yeah, I knew this was coming. "T" guy seemed nice enough, and it was a very flattering thing he said.

"Well I don't think it has to be the last time," I said, "But, what are you looking for? A relationship?"

We were both surprised at my forward response. He'd just met me, but I upfront had asked him what his were intentions were. Thinking a little bit about it, that probably wasn't a fair question, but it was out there. He recomposed quickly,

"Well, I guess I'd need to make sure you weren't a nutjob or anything, but you seem ok so far!" he said, with a smirk.

I took a big, big gulp of my drink, "I'm into some weird stuff, I like being tied, and treated like a dog." I stated, as nonchalantly as I could muster. I looked right at him.

"Um... what?" He must have been thinking he misheard.

"Yeah. Collar, other toys, things like that."

There was a silence between us, and the dull roar of the rest of the bar filled it, as I waited for his response. He started to laugh, although it looked forced.

"You're... you're joking, right?" he stammered.

I paused, just for a second. I was hurt, but I decided to save face.

"Did I have you going there? Sorry, I guess my humor's blunt sometime."

He relaxed considerably, but turned back to his mates, and I gave Andrea the okay-it's-time-to-go look. She nodded; she usually wasn't out this long anyway. We made empty promises to see them again sometime, although we didn't give out our numbers at all. I was feeling a little tipsy, and I teetered as we walked back together. She was rambling on about something, although I was paying more attention to the cement passing underneath my feet.

Minutes later I was on my back, on my bed, tired from the long day. I can't believe how openly I admitted to being a submissive kind of freak. The guy couldn't even believe it, so how was I supposed to find the right kind of person to fill this gaping hole I was feeling? I certainly was not in the mood for simple one-night-stands, and ordinary dating.

I stayed in for the rest of the weekend, doing cleaning, TV watching, and just a little bit of studying. The weekend ended, and it was Monday, and I was meeting with Dr. Donnely. I debated whether to tell Andrea about our meet. I decided not to. Between the insane dream I had about her, and the invitation to her house, I thought it best to keep it to myself at the moment. I stopped home, about an hour until Dr. Donnely expected me. I decided to change, into a more proper looking white blouse, black skirt, black leggings. I thought about doing something with my hair, I tested it pulled back, ponytail, but I ended up just wasting time, and as I looked at the clock, I realized I had just a few minutes before I was late.

I grabbed my bad, and took off out the door, to my car. I was familiar enough with the area, so I didn't have much trouble getting there, but it was a couple minutes passed 7:00. I walked up to the door, shuffling with my clothes and hair, and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, she opened the door. She was half-dressed in her professional attire, a red dress shirt, a few unbuttoned, black slacks, and still wearing a set of shiny black heels.

"Hello Brooke, I was expecting you at seven, please be on time in the future."

Not the best start to the evening. "Oh... I'm very sorry..." I said softly.

She led me inside, and directed me to her living room. The outside was modest, but inside was luxurious. Leather furniture, artwork in fancy frames, and I even thought it had that fancy house smell. I was obviously impressed, my fingers running over the fine finished tables, admiring everything she had. Even as a important professor, this was beyond the means of an educator, Dr. Donnely must have family money, or something.

"Have you eaten anything this evening, Brooke?"

"No..." I replied, "But I'm fine, I'm not that hungry..."

"Nonsense, I cooked chicken parmeseana, and you need to eat."

Well there was no arguing with her. As she left to bring the food, I walked around a little, exploring her house. The dining room was similar, an expensive looking dining table, specialty dishware kept in glass cabinets. I poked my head into the kitchen, and it was equally as impressive. I studied the black granite, stainless steel and a very posh-looking island in the middle. Dr. Donnely gave me a smile as she noticed me admiring her elegant home. She loaded two plates with food, and beckoned me to follow her. She set the two places next to each other.

"Normally I shouldn't do this, but are you a wine drinker?"

"Oh... yes I am..." I said slyly.

The wine was poured, and the rest of the table was set. We started into the delicious smelling food. She truly was talented, I'd have no doubt she could've been a great cook.

"So Brooke," Dr. Donnely began, "Tell me more about yourself, your family, your hometown, your goals in college."

I found it easy to talk about the generic points of my life, telling her about my family and my home there. She could clearly relate to my stories about living with two brothers, and the more I shared, the more I enjoyed myself; she really was pleasant to talk to, once we were passed the authoritative part. My stories took us all the way through dinner. She checked her watch, and then got up, starting to clear the table. I followed suit, grabbing my own dishes, and following her into the kitchen.

"I can clean up later, let's sit in the living room, and we can have a real conversation," she said.

I thought we were already talking, I guess she was right; she wasn't going to waste her time listening to me ramble on about this and that. She sat in an arm chair, and motioned for me to sit in the loveseat to the side. As I sat, I almost melted into the squishy comfortable chair. I giggled a little, but there was a tension, she knew I was waiting to begin again. Still, I didn't know where to start.

"So, where were we last time?" she asked. If I didn't know better, I would say she was amused by my squirming and uncertainty.

"Well, I guess we were talking about meeting someone ordinarily, and being open with others as I look for the kind of relationship I want,"

"Well, yes, to put it vaguely."

"I... I actually did try something..."

Her eyes peaked in interest, "Oh? Please, tell me more."

"It started at a bar, Andrea and I had gone out juts for a couple drinks, and we were joined by a few boys, we didn't know them, and they got us a drink and whatnot. One of the guys sort of asked me out, and, feeling pretty loose and uncaring, I took a shot in the dark. I told him, bluntly, I like to be submissive, saying I like puppy stuff and being tied up."

"From your tone, it didn't go exactly according to plan."

"No, and there really wasn't a plan at all, but he was in total disbelief, I played it off, said I was joking..."

She frowned, but I think she understood.

"Well, you did take my advice, but not in the way it was intended. Remember, any relationship, and even more so the Dom/Sub relationship, is built on trust. There was no trust between you two."

"Well how am I supposed to meet this person, without everyone judging me in the process?" I blurted, frustrated.

Dr. Donnely was as cool and composed as ever. "Your doubts are normal, you're worried about rejection, and about damaging the current relationship you have with someone you might share yourself with,"

I didn't like to be told how I felt, but I resigned; she was absolutely spot-on. My hands fell to my lap, and I picked at my leggings. She didn't speak either, giving me time to collect my thoughts.

"Brooke, I have another question, and while I don't think it's a part of your core questions about yourself, it may be another piece to your puzzle," She paused, and I tried to prepare myself for a very personal question. "Are you attracted to women?"

I looked right at her, but her face was studious, intent. I turned inwardly, could there be truth to what she said? I thought of Christina, our forced session to 3rd base. It was hard to judge, because the whole situation was out of control. I thought of Andrea. She was fit, very pretty, but I didn't wanna tear her clothes off, and sleep with her. I looked at Dr. Donnely again, and I blushed. I couldn't help but remember my extremely vivid fantasy, with her as my owner. Was that attraction?

"You're blushing Brooke, you don't have to be ashamed of the answer,"

"Well... maybe, if it was the right woman..." I said, in my smallest, shiest voice.

My eyes had been glued to the floor for the past little bit. She began talking again,

"You're doing very well Brooke, there's no simple resolution when one confronts personal issues. You can say what you like to me, I more ask you these questions to get you thinking about the answers. But, the next question I ask, you must always answer honestly, and openly." She paused. Oh boy, what was this big question?

"What are you feeling?"

The simplicity of the question surprised me. But before I was about to respond, 'I'm fine,' I stopped myself. After a few moments, I had my answer.

"I'm very unsure of myself. You help me feel better, yet I feel hopeless that I can find the perfect balance of what I want in another."

"That's a very good answer. The more open you can be, the more you can grow personally."

We paused.

"I have to say," I began timidly, "I'm really, really curious as to what you were talking about when you spoke of being in a similar relationship."

Dr. Donnely stopped herself from speaking at first, holding her lips shut. She looked at me, studying me again. She got up, opening a desk behind her, shuffling through it, and procuring a sheet of paper out of a folder. She was writing on it, and I was very interested to see what it was that took her away from the conversation. A minute later, I had my answer. She brought the sheet, and a pen, and put it on the coffee table in from of me.

"This is a confidentiality agreement; I've had to use these in the past, but I've never had any problems with it. Read it carefully, sign, and then I can tell you what you're asking.

I began scanning the document, it seemed like a lot of legal mumbo jumbo, but I got the gist of it. After signing, I would be agreeing to not share anything that we do or say with anyone else, until unless the contract is voided or blah, blah, blah.

I skipped the rest, signed at the bottom, and quickly scooted it back to her. She looked it over, then at me, and gave a smile.

"Okay, now that that's taken care of, you may ask what's on your mind. I can't guarantee I'll answer you fully, but fire away."

I paused, and then had my question: "What can you tell me about your submissive relationship? I don't need to know all the details, just wondering about the when, and why."

She pondered my question thoughtfully, "Well, I graduated college early, and met someone that I thought I loved. He asked me to become his sub, I agreed. We mostly just had weekends together. I didn't last long. I started asking for different things, and wanted to make some changes, which was very un-submissive of me. That was the beginning of the end for us, yet I still discovered traits about myself. A little while later, I discovered I enjoy more the other side of that relationship.

"What was missing, was my unrealized desire for control. Once I figured that out, I became very driven for success, professionally and personally. I come from a financially comfortable family, and that helped me startup my own counseling clinic, and quickly finish my master's program." She paused, and I soaked in her amazing story. "So, did that answer your question?"

I was silent, having trouble finding the right words. I said I wouldn't ask, but I wanted those intimate details now, what she felt, what she experienced, and all her emotions that went with it. No, I didn't want to push; she must think me so nosy, after all...

"Let me take a guess, you're a little intimidated, and that's okay, but I think your curiosity is still burning. It's okay to ask about me, it will help you make sense of yourself."

Good lord, she was a mind reader too. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me, and I had to ask,

"So... you ... you're a dominant then?" I asked, stammering.

"Very perceptive of you," she said amusingly. "I wouldn't reflect on that too hard, you do not strike me as having that sort of complex, at least now. Think about your regular life, do you like when things are left up to you, or you have the final say?"

"No, I guess I just like being a crowd pleaser."

She beamed at my answer, "You are a very rare type then, a selfless person when it comes to choice."

"Well, I'm not too sure about that," I hesitated, "I mean, there are things that I want, and I've tried to ask for them."

"And that is fine, good, in fact." She said reassuringly. "Above all, there's no need to fit one stereotype, to adhere to one set of traits. Why label yourself as a submissive? It's just a word, and you should focus on the things that you want."

"Okay..." I replied. "It's... it's just that I don't know what all I want, what turns me on and stuff..."

I got beet red, it was what I was thinking, but I couldn't believe I said that out loud, this wasn't just like talking to another girlfriend; there was weight behind the things she said. She just watched me squirm about embarrassed, her amused look on her face. She got up again, this time, came and stood right in front of me. A little close actually, she was squared, and it felt awkward as she towered over my seated body.