Good Girl Day Four

Good Girl: Day Four

At least Mommy let me sleep in her bed.

The last three days blended blurred together until I lost any semblance of time. Obeying entirely the commands of my husband and our office secretary, my identity had been reduced to that of a household pet. There were rules, orders, humiliating and humbling tasks that proved my place. By now, almost every boundary had been eroded, washed away in this new joy of being submissive.

I didn't start out a puppy, bitch, or slut.

And still, sometimes I resisted. There was a piece of me still whole, fighting back for my own autonomy. But those thoughts were fading, replaced with a growing acceptance of my new status. There was no going back, no reclaiming any dignity ever again.

Lying at the feet of my mistress, warm just lying on the covers, my mind raced with a truncated summary the past three days.

I'd sent nude pictures of myself to a crush in the office, despite being married to Scott for ten years. Our sex had grown stale. He'd started getting into more elaborate fantasies online, masturbating more to exotic pornographic scenarios. I didn't want to cheat, but the thrill of being looked at through new eyes proved too much.

But I stopped short of sex.

And he sent the pictures of everyone in the office, including my husband. I'd been humiliated and exposed.

For weeks Scott and I barely talked.

Then he had an idea, a way of making things even. For seven days I was to become his pet, to act in every way like a puppy. So for three days - I'd done everything he'd asked, even as each day grew increasingly sexual and public. All of my friends, my co-workers, even my sister, knew exactly my new place as my husband's pet bitch.

Yesterday, he'd walked me nude, on my hands and knees, pulled along by a lead into my office building, letting the staff make me fetch, scratch my ears, and "pet" my breasts and ass. All I could do was bark as my co-workers and former crush gawked at my nudity, watching me subjected to all manner of indecency. I drank from the toilet. I let my co-workers pet my naked body. I even peed outside on a tree, but only after begging at the door with repeated whines.

Once a day, I was given thirty minutes of privacy to make my ass ready for the black tail that was inserted in my ass as a buttplug. The rest of the time passed in this pretend fantasy. I obeyed, eating and drinking from bowls set aside for me, presenting myself to the world as nothing more than a beast, a desperate bitch in heat willing to do anything for an orgasm.

And Mommy used that perfectly.

Tiffany was the office secretary, pretty, curvy, with dark brunette hair and a bubbly, playful demeanor that hid a deviant sexual nature. Her and my husband had concocted this scheme to share me, breaking down my boundaries until I found myself lapping at her pussy under her desk.

Then she'd made me cum, nearly humping her leg to feel the vibrator pressed up against me. But that was just the beginning...

I spent the rest of the day at work, content in a dog bed at her feet. Though each new step forward was met with reluctance, there was something supremely satisfying about this level of submission. Each day brought a new addition to my torment, but I began to associate the feeling of abject terror with the tingling inside my quivering pussy.

Maybe it's just rationalizing the shock I'd been through, but I would have balked had Scott ever asked me to do any of these things before. Only despite needing to be coerced, I found myself relishing in the simplicity of the past few days. I couldn't imagine returning to the state I was before, isolated and nearly sexless. And as I tried to picture my future after this week, I wondered what exactly would be left of the person I was before.

I couldn't imagine selling houses, not after the entire staff had seen me naked and paraded around. But now, that seemed like no great loss...

And for the first time, I casually considered if I would be better than before.

I'd slept a large part of the day, nestled at the feet of Tiffany's desk. She'd been the one to march me out on my knee and hand pads. I'm sure I was a sight, with attached ears, and make-up denoting what I was imitating.

With each scoot forward from my paws the rubber end of my tail bounced back and forth between my bubble butt, reminding my pussy of another need.

I always wanted to cum. But with the pads on my hands protecting my palms from the ground, I couldn't even masturbate. After having humiliated myself by humping her leg early, I was in no rush for a repeat of the same performance.

Somehow I knew already that every second of attention to my desperate, dripping cunt would come with a cost.

That night she used me so completely...

And here I lay at her feet, shuddering, shaking, squirming with the very memory of what had just happened in the dank and ruffled sheets. I tried to process what had happened to me, whether or not I wanted it, or just wanted anything. All I could do was replay the scene over again in my head, wondering how much further this would go.

It started with her tying my lead to the iron rails of her headboard. Not that I was going anywhere - I had no clothes, no phone, no money, I was completely dependent on this casual workplace acquaintance I wouldn't even have called a friend before this week.

I was weak, unused to depending on my hands and knees so much over the past few days, emotionally drained from everything that happened. I was so transparently clingy, so willing to please and do almost anything for affection. I started doing more than just slurping up the cereal from my bowl and staring sullenly when asked to fetch.

I panted, pawed her, and nuzzled against her thigh. I needed to please.

I was fawning, acquiescence and obedient to every one of her commands, an almost willing victim to the escalation. She started petting my pussy, literally moving her palm in a rubbing motion across my slit and up to pat my cheeks. It was never enough to bring me up to the edge, just a reminder of how much control she exerted over my body.

I started huffing, breathing heavily, giving out little tiny barks to demonstrate my excitement. My tongue almost hung out as she teased me, my eyes closing as she applied more pressure, then something else.

I remember wondering if I should look behind and see what was going into me. But there wasn't much of a point. The tip of the dildo was already half inside, the wide, oblong head of the jelly-like thing finding little resistance from my trembling lips. Even so, the thing was huge, pink and flexible, shaking in Mommy's hand as she inserted inch by never-ending inch.

Later, she tossed it across the bed and made me fetch it, tasting my pussy all along the length of the double-sided dildo. But first, she made me take more of it than I thought possible, the girth more fulfilling than the length. I struggled, giving out panicked yips at times, even as I ground my clit against the bed.

Slowly, it rammed in and out of me, with Tiffany cooing her praise, repeating the same kind of sing-song statements.

"Oooo such a good girl!"

"I know, I know, Kay-Kay, but it feels so good in puppy's little kitty..."

"Good girl, take that big bone for Mommy."

At first, every stroke was agonizing, the spreading, stretching pains causing me to feel as though my pussy would eject the rough intruder at any moment. But Tiffany kept at me, my Mommy knowing just how to force her pet to play. Slowly, I started to relax, realizing that I had no control and no way really of doing anything other than pleasing her.

In almost a trance, I climaxed without warning, face-planting onto the mattress as my arms and legs gave out, unable to keep presenting myself as a dog. My orgasm came with a special high-pitched bark muffled by the bed that I now hardly noticed.

I would later learn this distinctive yipping noise made each orgasm obvious to everyone who saw it.

I couldn't take much more, falling over, pushing out the toy. It didn't matter to Mommy, she was sweet, gentle, letting me lie there in the fetal position. She cuddled me, pinching my tits, so much smaller than hers. She was able to cup them in each hand, letting her fingers tweak the tips of my nipples.

Then she spread my legs, another small toy buzzing as it burrowed inside of my used and aching pussy. The strap-on went two-ways with a u-shape that allowed it to penetrate us both. I could feel her breasts, weighty and large, almost supported by my shoulders. She pushed in and out, quicker than with the dildo, using me for her own pleasure.

I didn't care. Lust had again overpowered my mind. With each pounding into my pussy, she drove the butt plug just barely up and down in my ass, fucking me in both holes. The sensation stood out above everything else, at first unpleasant, nearly unbearable. But then, like everything else I'd been forced to do, I began to like it.

I endured, grinding back against her at times, at other times simply shuddering against her bigger frame. Against my body, she came, continuing the same rhythm through her loudly pronounced orgasms. Needing more, Tiffany went quicker, determined to draw everything out of me. We both climaxed together, or close enough that I couldn't tell the difference.

Our cries clattered off the walls in different, distinct expressions of delight.

"Oh god, you're Mommy's little bitch."

"Arf!"

"I'm going to fuck you every day this week. And then I'm going to fuck your husband in front of you."

"Arf!"

"Oh god, I'm cumming. I'm using you to cum. Good girl, good girl..."

"Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf...."

And so on, until she finished.

I laid my head on her chest, my cheek on her wonderfully large breasts, relaxed, satisfied, at peace, my mind cleared in a way I'd never equal.

Sleep came easily for both of us.

I don't remember exactly how I ended up at the foot of the bed, but I didn't dare risk squeezing next to Tiffany or her blankets. I had the idea that she would scold me for even being in bed. The rest of the night passed slowly, my mind racing, wondering and worrying about the morning as I kept replaying moments into my mind, restarting a libido already ratcheted up to new heights over the past few days.

I drifted in and out of sleep.

By the morning, I was already awake and alert. Both sexually excited and terrified of whatever my husband had planned for me. My mind kept wandering to the conversation Scott had with my boss, the implications being that I might be whored around the office.

And then there was my husband.

Already, the implication seemed clear there was something going on between Tiffany and Scott, at least in scheming out these elaborately inventive scenarios. I wondered if they already had fucked, probably immediately after Ryan had sent out my nudes.

By the morning, I was a complete mess, exhausted enough to be suggestable and obedient to my new role.

It's strange how quickly I got used to everything about my routine. It had only been a few days, but there was a strange satisfaction in knowing that I would eat when I was told (from a bowl), pee when led outside (in her yard, next to a bush), and then be given a short period of time to take an enema and do my make-up.

This time, I copied Tiffany's pattern, creating whiskers and a button nose.

At least Tiffany had a garage so that I didn't have to worry about the neighbors seeing me led out of her house nude on my hands and knees, wearing a butt plug tail and the bent, now floppy puppy dog ears. By now, the office had become another sanctuary of sorts, another place where this sick and sadistic fantasy could continue.

I stayed most of the day by Tiffany's desk, trying and failing to hold in my bladder. She led me outside again, where the elderly man who owned the nearest house looked on in horror as I squatted in his yard. She just waved at him, then walked me back to the office as though nothing had happened.

The staff seemed less interested than yesterday, though every man in the office took breaks now and then to "play" with me. They would pinch my nipples, move my tail, swat my ass, or finger my pussy. Sometimes they took turns. The worst was when two or three went at a time, so that I couldn't quite brace myself for what was happening to me.

It drove me crazy, my cunt nearly leaking joy, and yet I wasn't made to cum. It was like the goal of the day was simply to tease me. Sure, I fetched a little, but there wasn't the same level of hooting as yesterday.

It seemed that Mr. Johnson had scheduled only clients who knew what was going on. A few strangers I'd never seen came up and started squeezing on my nipples, but once I got used to that first grope, I realized there wasn't any point in every fretting about such a little thing.

A half dozen or more in the office had already done the same thing, what did it matter if a few customers took their turn? That they were strangers actually made it easier compared to looking into the eyes of my office crush, barking like a dog while he rubbed my clit.

Or maybe it was that after three days of abuse, there simply wasn't any willpower left. I hadn't talked in days, and my ability to now be outraged at something was almost nonexistent. I felt weak, maybe because I hadn't finished my bowl of cereal this morning or maybe the days were just taking their toil. Either way, I slept most of the day...

Then it was time to go home.

Amazingly, the less I used my mind, the more conditioned I became to my environment. I had barely even thought about Scott until he came sautering up to the office. He stopped and patted me on the head, his hands ruffling my blonde pigtails. Then he kept going behind the desk, bending over and kissing Tiffany.

They both rode together in the front seat, leaving me in the backseat to stew about what was happening. By the time I got home, I was so in my head I didn't even think about getting out of the car completely naked, as I again presented myself as a puppy to the entire neighborhood. I was obsessed wondering what would happen between Scott and Tiffany, my masters, Daddy and Mommy...

That was when the realization hit me between the eyes.

There's no way the two of them hadn't hooked up before. They must have planned every detail while fucking. There just wasn't any other explanation for their comfort with each other as they ate dinner, serving me chopped up steak and rice in a bowl while they easily talked about their respective days.

"So work seems satisfied with her?" Scott asked.

I perked up.

"I can tell they all want to do more than just touch, but I didn't need to remind anyone to wait until tomorrow."

Tomorrow?

I let out a quiet moan no one noticed.

"Good, I think it's worth the wait. I want to slowly groom her for the finale."

And just like that, my new dread became these unknown hints. For a few minutes, I forgot what was clearly happening in front of me, my mistress taking my man, not just for sex, but in a domestic sense. They were certainly more in the image of man and wife, Daddy and Mommy, than me, eating at their feet next to the table, my face full of slobber.

"Well, are you ready, baby?" Scott said.

"I've been thinking about it all day," Tiffany said, springing up. "Should we let her watch, or keep her outside the door?"

Was I really letting them discuss this?

"Let her watch," Scott said. "At least the first time..."

And any doubt I had about their affair disappeared. In no time, their familiarity with each other became obvious. He stripped off her clothes, revealing those large breasts with perfectly proportioned nipples, larger than mine, dangling down at just the perfect angle. Then my husband peeled off her panties, sniffing them loudly before throwing them aside.

I didn't know what to make of that, but like every woman I made comparisons. Though nowhere near as thin, Tiffany had that traditional hourglass figure, wide hips with the tits I knew every man craved. Even though last night she had been inside of me, fucking me with her fingers and toys, I felt inadequate compared to her.

Coupled with this insecurity came my subjugation to both of them as Mommy and Daddy. Of course I wasn't the equal of a real woman. I was curled up on the bed next to them, watching like the collared bitch-slut I am. If I had been a person, I would have screamed, throwing things across the room, fighting for my man as he pushed his cock into this gorgeous woman I also wanted.

But now I found myself developing different feelings. After all, I wanted her because she was pretty and dominant, and had so thoughtlessly let her use me.

It had been days since he'd fucked me. I remembered how good he felt when I was in the right mood, when all seven inches pushed into me until I needed everything. How he rocked me into climax after climax, taking me until I thought I would pass out before he shot into me. It is easy after a decade to forget the things that make a spouse so desirable, and looking at Scott through TIffany's eyes made all those years of arousal come crashing back.

Scott's cock disappeared from my sight and into Tiffany's eager cunt, their stomachs pressed against each other. And as I thought about it, I knew I wanted Mommy to know the same pleasure I'd had. I looked longingly into her eyes, wide and intense as Scott pushed in and out, finding a rhythm. I wanted her to have him, to know that I had attracted a virile, sexy, well-hung husband who could make a girl cum.

Her breasts pushed against his chest, her hardened nipples disappearing from my sight. They kissed, their hands exploring in known ways, in passionate embraces reserved for lovers instead of one-night stands.

I didn't care, I looked on in lust. I knew my husband was hot, but seeing the reaction of another woman, how she moaned when he moved inside of her...

It validated me.

Strange to say, but anyone can take what they have for granted. I knew I was guilty, that my husband had so many fantasies and needs I hadn't lived up to. There was a weird sense of accomplishment in being able to give him something so satisfying as this perverse threeway. So I looked on with glee, instantly accepting this not as a price for staying with my husband, but a way of appreciating what I already had.

I was willing to do whatever so that Daddy would see how much I had changed. Even after the week was over, I wouldn't be able to go back to only having sex a few times a month in missionary. I needed this, wanted to find out my limits, even if it meant stepping over the lines of good sense.

I needed Daddy and Mommy to own me.

"You're so big," Tiffany said. "I love that. Do you see Kaykay? Your husband's inside of me. He's fucking me."

"God your tits, I can't even get them in a handful. I'm not used to it..."

"Kaykay, I can't believe you ever thought about fucking anyone else," TIffany said. "Daddy is giving it to me so good, he..."

"You're about to cum, aren't you?" Scott said.

"Oh god, just like that," TIffany said. "I need it."

"You need my cum, don't you?" Scott said.

"Oh yes, yes I love having your cum in me," Tiffany cooed. "I'm close, I'm close...

"Cum for me..."

And almost as if on command, Tiffany's legs kicked up, shuddering as Scott held up her, continuing to drive into her. She came, crying out soft mews of pleasure. There was something so thrilling about seeing my husband give another girl an orgasm. It was almost fulfilling, as though I got some of the credit for having such a lover.

"Kaykay," TIffany breathed, after collecting herself. "Go lick Daddy's balls, lick them while he fucks me."

"Arf!"

I scampered behind him, trying to wedge my face in between them. My nose ended up close to nestled in my husband's ass crack, my tongue barely reached out to lick eagerly at his balls. His nuts bounced back and forth, gently wiping my own salvia back onto my face as I greedily slurped at them.