Tootsie and Mittens

All characters are over 18.

I'd greatly appreciate a thoughtful editor for Angela Falls. Contact me if you're interested.

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We were laying in the living room, the glow of some kids cartoon washing over us. More accurately, she was laying on me, with her hair splaying across my lap while my one hand languished on her firm, upturned belly. In my other was a vanilla crème vodka I was slowly nursing.

My phone buzzed. She stirred as I shifted to set aside my vodka and extract it from my person. Glancing down, I saw a text indicating a postal delivery followed by an alphanumeric code. After a few moments, I stowed my phone and gently prodded her nose. Her eyes half opened and she nuzzled my hand as it came to rest on her cheek.

"Walkie?"

Her eyes shot open and she was up in a flash, dashing to our equipment room. In less than a minute she emerged, dressed in a luxuriously soft faux fur jacket and supple leather pants. Both were a pleasing shade of dark chocolate.

She also had put on a black leather collar with studded metal while a simple leash hung gently from her teeth.

"I'm afraid it's a no on the collar and leash this time, pup."

She wilted into an expression of deep, soulful sorrow marred her features. A sorrow so pure and raw it would melt even the coldest and hardest of hearts.

"Oh, Tootsie. You could do something more subtle for the collar, then. Hard no on the leash, though."

Perking up, she dashed in and out of the room in hardly anytime, this time emerging with a, comparatively, demure black collar. Despite waiting patiently by the door, her quivering body betrayed her excitement. It wasn't much longer for me to finish my mental checklist and proceed to open the door, wordlessly signaling her to heel.

Tootsie bounded in as soon as I opened the passenger door. Getting in on my side, I hunched my shoulders together to climb into my Volvo, the car creaking as I settled in. Glancing over as I started up the car, I was unsurprised to observe she hadn't buckled up yet.

"I think you forgot to buckle up."

Tootsie Sweet looked out the window, steadfastly pretending not to hear.

"Tootsie."

Nothing.

"Please buckle up."

I shut the car off and her head snapped around to meet my gaze.

"Buckle up, or no walkie."

She mulled it over, a slight snarl half crossing her lips before she relented and buckled up. I reached over and scritched the back of her neck.

"Good girl."

Starting the car again, I put it in gear and headed to the post office. Tootsie, previously lost in taking the world around her in my absence, perked up upon my return. She was particularly interested in the parcel and pawed on it expectantly.

"Oh, you think there's a treat in here?" I tease her by wafting the package under her nose. She stares plaintively in response, clearly unamused.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," I tease again. "Be a good girl today and you'll find out."

She scowls and looks away, pretending she was never interested in the parcel's contents to begin with.

With a chuckle I look at my phone, studying the alphanumeric code momentarily before starting the car up again and pulled out.

Tootsie observed the passing surroundings intently, before realization dawned own her and she began quivering in excitement once again. Pulling into a park, I leaned over to pull her passenger door open. Bounding out with a frantic energy, she bounded over to a flock of pigeons that took quickly took flight before rushing towards an empty playground. Keeping an eye on her as she played, I headed to a nearby bench, surreptitiously peeling a phone off the underside. Entering a passcode, I opened up the notes app and began reading the assignment. After a few minutes, I opened up the photos app and studied the features of the subject before swapping the phone with a pair of creamy beige woolen gloves.

Putting them on, I looked up to call Tootsie Sweet to heel, only to see she was already by my side. She saw the gloves and knew what they meant.

Playtime was over. Now was walkie time.

Wordlessly, I gave her the phone and we returned to the car. I waited for her to hand it back. With the phone safely tucked into my breast pocket, I started up the car and drove out. A grim silence smothered our more typical comfortable silence, as it often did during a job. I pondered the queerness of the distinction, as I often did, but as usual I had no answers.

We arrived at a dilapidated neighborhood and stopped at an even more dilapidated house, a dim glow flickering in one of the windows. It had surely been vacant for some time before its current occupant had taken up residence.

While we walked the perimeter cautiously, Tootsie froze and pointed. In the gloom I could see had espied the current entrance. Drawing my piece, I crept towards it and tried the door.

From the front of the house, a faint thump and muffled curse was heard.

"Tootsie?"

She looked at me, eagerly awaiting the command.

"Fetch."

And she was off. Good God, she was fast. The guy never had a chance.

I returned to my car to get my bag. Back inside, I found the room the glow was emanating from. In it was a single gas lantern on low, a sleeping bag, and a bag full of convenience store groceries. Picking up the lantern, I searched the house, happy to find a rickety folding table and chairs in another room. Setting my bag on the table, I stood and waited for Tootsie to return.

I didn't have long to wait before a series of steps, rough shoves, and begs for release were heard. Tootsie returned with the target in tow, a distinct limp in his step. Whether it was from his jump in the window or an injury Tootsie had inflicted, I couldn't tell, though I was fairly confident the steady trickle of blood from his temple was her handiwork.

"Hello," I said. The man's eyes shot to my gloves and he paled.

"Mittens!"

"I trust Tootsie Sweet didn't rough you up too bad? We need you... cogent, for this next part."

Tootsie's eyes had a cold glint in them.

"I swear it wasn't me! I swear on my life I don't know who did!"

"Come now. Look at my mittens. Such a beautiful, soft white. I've grown rather fond of this shade. I'd hate to turn them pink."

"Pink Mittens! Tootsie! Please, I -"

He crumpled to the floor, caught off guard by my backhand.

"It's Tootsie Sweet to you," I snarled, crouching down, grabbing a fist of his hair and making him look at me. "You know why she's called Tootsie Sweet?"

He whimpered in response.

"Seems you're about to find out. But I'll tell you one thing right now, Tootsie Sweet hates tootsie sweets."

I let his hair go and stood up. Glancing at the back of my hand, I could see a crimson streak marring the once beige gloves.

I looked over at Tootsie sadly.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way."

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Once home, job completed, I threw the mittens in a tub of cold water and peroxide. In time, the harsh crimson would turn a softer shade of pink, and the pair of mittens would be retired to a trophy collection of similarly shaded mittens with similar stories.

Tootsie was waiting for me in the shower stall, still clothed. I saw that there were some flecks of blood that had encrusted parts of her faux fur coat and pants. Turning the on cold water, I grabbed the shower head wetted the fur, applying a fabric cleaner and gently scrubbing the fabric. When the cold seeped through to her she began to shiver in silence, her eyes searching for reassurance.

"Good girl," I soothed. "Almost done. Such a good girl."

The moments passed as I tried to be quick and thorough with the cleaning, but by the end she was trembling almost violently. Finishing, I returned the shower head to its cradle and helped her out of her coat and pants, hanging them up to dry next to a dehumidifier. Taking off my own clothes, I joined her in the shower, turned on the cold water, and embraced her trembling form. My heart swelled at the intimacy of our closeness. The feeling of my skin on hers, of her head nestled in my neck as she sought refuge from untold demons within. In this close embrace, I knew she could feel my unbidden throbbing against her, but neither of us acknowledged it.

When her shivering abated, we withdrew from another. Taking up a bar of soap, my hands began traversing easily over the supple smoothness of her arms while lingering over rough scars from old wounds. I was grateful there were no additions tonight. Continuing my gentle ministration of soap to skin, my hands left her arms and continued on to the curvature of Tootsie's front torso. No part of her was left untouched, and throughout Tootsies eyes remained half lidded in the relaxed comfort of our familiar ease. My hands continued downward over the gentle swell of her hips. She lifted one leg up, which I cleaned, followed by the other, which I also cleaned.

Smirking at the flush forming around her neck, I gave her a gentle prod, and she presented her back to me. My hands again began the ministration of soap to skin, lingering at her hindquarters, her fleshy cheeks undulating as I moved over them. Continuing to the final stop, I reached around and pulled her to me. The natural expression of my lust for her that we'd both ignored as it bumped and prodded her throughout the ritual was finally acknowledged with a little wriggle of her butt, my cock nestling between her cheeks. A flash of pleasure coursed through me from the attention, and in a release of pent up tension I clutched and pressed myself against her. As a stuttering sigh escaping my lips into her ears, Tootsie melded in to me. A few moments like this passed, the water running over us as I rhythmically thobbed against her. Eventually I relaxed, my free hand snaked around down to her front and cupped her mons briefly before washing the outer folds and retracting. Tootsie, who had squirmed and whimpered in the confines of my embrace throughout, whirled to face me. Her glassy, lidded eyes met mine as before her fingers intertwined with my hair to pull our lips together. I clutched at her back and gently tasted the lush of her soft lip between my own, plucking at it gently as I drew a way in a ragged breath. She nuzzled her nose against my cheek briefly before returning once more to nip my lip gently betwixt her teeth before finally relaxing her arms to encircle my neck and bury her head in my embrace once more. My hands came to rest comfortably in the small of her back, my unabated lust for her pulsing insistently against her thigh. We stayed like that for a a long moment, the warm water continuously cascading upon us.

"Still one last thing," I said, withdrawing to reach for a bottle of conditioner. Tootsie eagerly leaned in to present the top of her head. I dolloped some conditioner on my hand, rubbed them together, and placed them upon her head and began massaging it into a lather. My hands began an inchworm like motion, my fingertips firmly rubbing the scalp. Up, down. Up, down. Tootsie swayed in rhythm with the motion. Taking the shower head again, I rinsed her the conditioner from her hair, repeating the process, though this time I could hear her hums of pleasure. Finishing up, I rinsed out the shampoo and gave her tush a little smack.

"All done, Toots. You can go dry off now."

Tootsie looked at me briefly before shaking her head violently, her hair whipping back and forth and water shooting everywhere.

I raised my eyebrows and she flashed a toothy grin before grabbing a towel and padding off.

I began my own shower. It was a simple affair, taking the soap and rubbing it along my own slender form, down through the hair of my navel and continuing to the forest of my loins and legs, finishing by sudsing the naked skin of my scalp. Taking the conditioner, I massaged it into the bush of my beard, pausing, rinsing, then repeating with shampoo.

After stepping out and drying off, I walked to the living room. Tootsie was curled up on the couch, cozily clad in paw print pajamas. Her eyes took in my naked torso as I strode over, cupping her face in my hand. She nuzzled into it with a contented sigh before I went to the bedroom to put on my own pajamas.

Returning to the couch, Tootsie made space for me to settle in, but before I could, she jumped up and pattered off, returning with the parcel from earlierand placing it in my hands, eyeing me expectantly.

"Oh? Are you ready for your treat?"

An eager nod was the reply.

Opening it up, I pulled out a package for a new hairbrush.

"Your old one was getting, well, old. Plus, this one has stiffer bristles. Better for head scritches. I think you'll like it better. Come here and we'll try it out."

Eagerly, she settled into a familiar position, with her facing away from me and nestled between my legs. Brush in hand, I pressed the teeth to her scalp and gently pulled, her head following the motion through. Brush to scalp, press, pull, follow through. Brush to scalp, press, pull, follow through. I could see her shoulders relax further with each stroke, and when her head tilted each back each timeI could see her half lidded eyes and lips slightly parted in a silent moan.

Smiling, I continued the hair brushing, gently tugging through the tangles as needed. When the tangles became fee and far between and her hair was silky smooth, Tootsie began to wriggle her toots back towards me. I pretended not to notice, continuing the strokes. She continued wriggling, insisting on a reaction, and my body betrayed me, swiftly swelling to poke her. I continued to pretend not to notice, but her hand reached up to still my strokes as she gave a plaintive whine.

"What is it, girl? You want another treat?"

She turned around, taking the brush from my hand, the soft pad of footsteps fading as she left the room, only to return momentarily accompanied by the sound of a familiar jingle. In her teeth was a red and blue color with a metal tag. On it was engraved "TOOTSIE SWEET" and below that in a smaller font "Property of Mittens". Releasing it on my lap, she turned to present her neck, and I fastened it around herneck. Turning once more, she gripped the sleeve of my pajamas in her teeth, gently pulling till I rose to follow her.

Settling into bed, she turned to look at me expectantly. Moving to stand next to the bed, I cupped her cheek once more.

"Did you want another treat, girl? Getting a little greedy, aren't you? You've already had one."

She nuzzled my hand, reaching to pull her pajama top up and expose her underbelly to me.

"You were an awfully good girl earlier..."

My hand moves from cheek to belly, rubbing it. She squirmed at the touch.

"Does Tootsie want a bone?"

Tootsie gave a soft yip, squirming more. Reaching over to her nightside, I pulled out a her favorite chocolate colored tail plug as Tootsie eagerly got on all fours and presented her rear to me. Slipping a hand under her shirt, I stroked her back while she wriggled her ass insistently. Acquiescing, I moved my hand downwards, catching her pants and pulling them halfway down, exposing her puckered hole and red, enflamed lips.

Setting the tail plug aside momentarily, I gripped her cheeks to spread them as I leaned in to probe her asshole with my tongue. Tootsie gasped and then cooed at the contact, relaxing to allow my tongue to push in deeper. Gripping her cheeks, I pulled them apart as my tongue continued to ellicit soft whimpers from Tootsie.

It didn't take much before her asshole was rhythmically gaping and contracting shut, and after retrieving the plug and pressing it into her it popped in easily. Tootsie yipped then spun on the bed to chase the tail before stumbling on account of her pants still being around her knees. Chuckling, I finished pulling the pants off, following by pulling her shirt over her head as the tag gave a muted jingle. Reaching for the bed stand, I also grabbed a short leash, the metal snapping as afixed it onto her collar.

Tootsie tugged on the chain, trying to pull me onto the bed with her.

"No!" I admonished. "Stay!"

She stilled, impatiently waiting as I took off my own clothes. Giving the chain a gentle tug, Tootsie came to the edge of the bed on all fours. Hand under her chin, I pressed upwards to cajole her into an kneeling upright before me, tilting her head for another kiss. Tootsie obliged and our lips met.

Tootsie, feeling much more feral, was quick to start out with a harder nip. I responded by gripping the roots of her hair with my free hand and pulling her head back. She followed through the motion till she was sitting back on her hindquarters, head back and neck exposed, tag glinting softly in the dim light. Moving in, my lips found her jawline and began to kiss along it. I reveled in the soft little moans she let out, the feeling of her hands roaming and clasping my forearms in an unbidden desire for more contact. Pulling back, I reached towards her mouth with my leash hand, prodding her lips with my index and middle fingers. Accepting them into her mouth, she lavished them with her tongue until they were wet with her spit. Removing them, I met her gaze as I moved to press them to the nub of her slit. A whimper let me know when I found Tootsie's sweet spot. Focusing my attentions, I let the bundle of her nerves glide through my fingers. Tootsie, panting heavily, arched her back, and together we fell onto the bed.

Having let go of her hair to land gently on my forearm, I laced my fingers in her hair once more as my other returned to her slit. More sounds of pleasure escaped her lips as they pressed into her, little gasps and whimpers which heightened my own lust. My cock, long since hardened at the sight of her supple nakedness, was poking against her thigh. Lowering my hips further, I ground my hardness into her, my desperate need to mate with her becoming increasingly obvious. Bombarded with stimulation, she writhed, undulating her hips while a hand roamed my own body.

My fingers at her slit delved more deeply, finding more wetness, extracting it and spreading it before diving deeper. Pulling her head to expose her neck once more, I dived back in to kiss its vulnerabilities, the fervor of my hard and hot cock grinding against her increasingly rough. At this onslaught of sensation, Tootsies unbidden movements became more erratic, her hands randomly shifting between clutching my forearm or the sheets, her own need for more, to be filled and filled again slowly but surely building up till she could take it no longer.

"Treat," she whispered, voice cracking. She swallowed, trying again.

"Treat," she repeated clearly.

Withdrawing, my eyes roamed to revel in the sight of her glassy eyes, flushed cheeks and neck, and heaving chest. Feeling her squirm under me in the respite from my ministrations, I met her gaze.

"Does my girl want her bone?" I sang, teasing my hips forward.

Tootsie yipped and lifted her own hips in response.

"All right, girl. Go ahead and present."

I leaned back on my own haunches, guiding the leash to avoid entanglement as Tootsie maneuvered to point her tail end at me while resting her face on the bed. Leaning down, I ran my tongue through her slit several times before kneeling to line up and slide into her hot wetness.

Our moans commingled in the air. I flipped her tail up onto her back, the feeling of its fur tickling as it glided out between us. Grasping her hips I pulled her against me, the motion punctuated by the soft slap of thighs and a whimper of approval. Having gotten a feel for the range of motion, I began rhythmically slapping our flesh together, Tootsie's face being driven into the bed with each thrust as she clutched the sheets. Picking up the pace, I pulled firmly on the leash till she was holding herself up by her arms, her pants and yips coming more ragged as the collar pressed against her windpipe.