This is the next part of a series in which a young, blonde stud, with a small cock decided to indulge his secret desire to be treated like a dog. Unfortunately, since he was seen at a 'dog show' by the ginger haired nerd who works with him in a sports store, he has been blackmailed into becoming this geek's slave.
*
I was dreading going into work the next day, but luckily the ginger geek didn't turn up. I didn't want anyone to know I had anything to do with him so I decided not to ask whether he'd phoned in sick or not. For the rest of that week he didn't come in to work at all and I couldn't help thinking that perhaps he'd had enough of tormenting me and had decided to get another job. Each day when he didn't show up I felt more and more relieved. Part of me, the perverted side of my character, was longing for him to return and subject me to new humiliations, but on balance I was glad that everything had ended before it got too risky. I hadn't got the tattoo he'd asked for, and my body hair was already beginning to grow back; soon, it would be as if nothing had happened and I just had to hope that he never decided to do anything with the photos.
My relief ended the following Saturday when I saw him waiting for me in the staff room as I started my shift.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, but because there were other colleagues in the room I just ignored him as I always had done in public. I knew he wouldn't let me get away with this insult. I was bending over some boxes in the storeroom later that morning when he crept up behind me and pulled my track pants and boxers down, my instinctive reaction was to pull them back up but hearing his voice over my shoulder stopped me:
"Leave them, and turn around." I did as he said, nervously scanning the store-room to see if anyone else was in there, which luckily there wasn't.
Someone could come in any minute," I told him.
"Well then, they'll see your pathetic little boy cock won't they?" and he laughed so loud I was sure he'd attract attention to us.
Already, though, my cock had started to rise, proof if ever the little nerd needed it that I was still willingly at his command. As I stood there with my pants round my ankles, he started to give me my next set of instructions, and he was determined to take our relationship of master and dog to the next level:
"You will resign from your job today and tell the manager that you won't be coming back to work. You will then tell all of your friends and family that you have booked a last minute trip and are going to be away for a few weeks. Then come round to my house tonight."
"You must be mad," I implored, "there's no way I'm going to quit my job and move into your dirty little house full time; no way!"
He then showed me what was on the pile of papers he'd been holding in his hand - posters of me, unmistakably me, stripped naked with a collar on from when I was being 'shown' at the dog show, and from when I was shaved and on all fours at his house; he'd even managed to take a picture of me naked in his garden with my dog collar on, cocking my leg against a tree to take a piss. I was horrified.