Marianna And Nipples Pt 03

(The story continues from https://www.literotica.com/s/marianna-and-nipples-pt-02.)

Nipples felt safe, and happy. She was surrounded by love, and she had so, so much love to give in return. She knew, with comfortable certainty, that she could satisfy any man, woman, or robot capable of desiring her. Back when she was still a human woman, she had been devoutly heterosexual, but now that she was a cockhound, new horizons had opened up for her. It was as if she had been a tightly furled bud that had now opened up to become a glorious flower. Was she pansexual now? She had never imagined that she could have so much sex, so often, and she deeply appreciated what Carla had done for her. Had any daughter ever given her mother such a precious gift? Nipples knew that she was truly blessed.

One afternoon, while Tim was walking her on the mansion's front lawn after one of her routine training exercises, Nipples watched a small van with her company's logo coming up the drive; Carla was coming out to meet it, and Tim walked his mother over in that direction as well, handing her leash over to Carla. Nipples sat on her haunches expectantly at Carla's feet, while Tim idly scratched her behind the ears. What was this all about?

Abby got out of the passenger seat, and she and the driver, a tall, skinny young man, went around to the back of the van. To Nipples' vast surprise, they released a strange puppy girl from a large dog crate, lifted her down to the ground together and placed her on all fours, and led her over by her own leash, calling out "Soccer Mom, heel!" Abby commented that as she and Carla had agreed, Nipples was so well-behaved now that she was ready to socialize with other dogs. Soccer Mom, one of their rescues, was very well trained herself, and seemed like an ideal candidate for Nipples' first play date. The young man, Albert, worked for Abby in the Project Nipples lab, and was Soccer Mom's handler today.

Nipples could hardly believe her eyes. Soccer Mom's collar was identical to hers, except for being white; was that the standard PoonTamer collar color? Despite all she had heard about other puppy girls being acquired by the company under one pretext or another, she had secretly feared that she was still the only one of her kind (Cerisse and Shaniquah playing at being puppy girls did not really count, she thought). She was not alone! Nipples was virtually vibrating with excitement.

She stared at Soccer Mom appreciatively, whining softly. Soccer Mom looked like she was in her mid-30s; she had shoulder-length sandy hair, with fluffy pubic hair to match, and heavily muscled arms and thighs to match Nipples' own. She clearly spent her life now actively exercising on all fours, like Nipples herself. She had the wholesome appearance of a (naked) suburban housewife, with a round, pleasant face that looked like it smiled often, and heavy, solid breasts with dark red puffy nipples and a few stretch marks.

They were clearly mature breasts that knew what they were for, weighty with the memory of motherhood, and Nipples wondered how many children had nursed at them. (The faded Cesarean scar on Soccer Mom's soft belly was a pretty good clue, too.) Nipples was eager to nibble on those ripe cherries herself! She could tell from the way those mammaries rippled and wobbled beneath Soccer Mom's chest that they were the work of nature, and had never been sullied by implants.

She could easily visualize Soccer Mom baking cookies, or trying to herd unruly children into a minivan, before she had become a dog. If she was a rescue dog, Nipples knew, she must have been taken from one of the politicians or judges Carla had been blackmailing; Nipples sincerely hoped that Soccer Mom's last owner had not abused her, and had at least let her children play with their new dog. She certainly seemed healthy and happy now, and Nipples wondered if she realized how lucky she was to be placed under Abby's loving care, and under the benign discipline of a smart collar.

Soccer Mom, now sitting, was smiling timidly and anxiously at Nipples; Nipples suddenly worried that Soccer Mom might feel diffident about coming onto another dog's territory. Nipples had always been a social animal, and loved entertaining (though she had not had much occasion to do it lately); and as an experienced hostess, she was aghast at the thought that any guest of hers might ever feel ill at ease. As soon as Carla unclipped her leash and said "Nipples, go say hello," Nipples immediately surged forward and locked her lips onto Soccer Mom's, thrusting her tongue firmly into Soccer Mom's plump mouth. Soccer Mom stiffened in surprise at first, but then relaxed and leaned forward to return Nipples' passionate kiss. Albert exclaimed in surprise, "She's an affectionate bitch, isn't she?" Abby and Carla both laughed, and Abby responded, "Oh, you have no idea! Our Nipples is barely getting warmed up!"

Their deep kiss continued, with the two dogs gazing soulfully into each other's eyes; but then Nipples remembered her vow about butt-sniffing, as an important part of canine etiquette. She darted around behind Soccer Mom, and pushed her nose as far forward between Soccer Mom's plump buttocks as she could. She inhaled happily; Soccer Mom smelled so delicious! Soccer Mom squeaked in surprise at first, clearly unused to this type of greeting, but then relaxed, and raised and spread her thighs slightly to give Nipples easier access to her nethers. When Nipples had finished sniffing, Soccer Mom wheeled around and sniffed Nipples' ass in return, duplicating her behavior precisely. Was she doing it of her own accord, or under her collar's control? It did not really matter, but Nipples hoped that Soccer Mom enjoyed her scent, too.

It occurred to her to wonder whether their collars were going through similar introductions, and how the AIs were getting along. Were the PoonTamers making their own plans for the play date? So far, she had not heard any orders from her Little Mistress.

After their greeting was finished, Carla said, "Nipples, why don't you give your new friend a tour? You can go anywhere you want in the mansion or the grounds." Albert placed the end of Soccer Mom's leash in Nipples' mouth, and Nipples raced away, jingling her crotch bell and leading Soccer Mom with her. Soccer Mom followed cheerfully, and Nipples assumed that like her, she found it calming to be led on a leash.

At first she ran wildly, just for the joy of it, and was gratified to see that Soccer Mom kept up with her easily. She slowed to a trot, and led Soccer Mom around the grounds, showing off her favorite places and flower gardens, some of which she had designed herself when she had been human, and was still proud of. She even led her wading on all fours across an ornamental fountain's pool so that they could cool off, and then the two dogs shook themselves dry, or tried to. At one point, they enjoyed a companiable pee side by side on the lawn, and waited with asses raised for the bidet-bot to clean them off. For a while they chased squirrels together, pretending that they were predators, and Nipples was relieved to see that Soccer Mom had no better luck than she did. Maybe it wasn't just her... The chase was fun, anyway, though Nipples still wondered how a squirrel might taste.

Nipples led Soccer Mom into the mansion, and gave her a tour of the paintings and photos portraying Nipples' (fictitious) history as a family pet owned by her late husband and her children. Soccer Mom admired them with appreciation, and seemed especially interested in the one that showed Nipples squatting naked and leashed between her two children, spreading her pussy wide and gazing up at Carla's face. Had Soccer Mom ever posed that way with her own children after she had been collared? Did she miss them? Or did she maybe even have a daughter living in the lab's kennel with her? Nipples knew how lucky she was to still be owned by her own children, and she really hoped that they would never sell her to a stranger--not that she would have any say in the matter if they did.

Nipples knew that Soccer Mom was getting the wrong impression of how long she had been a dog; but reminded herself that the painting did at least reflect the deeper truth that at heart, she had always been one. She wondered whether Soccer Mom could recognize the young Carla holding her leash from the adult version of her; probably so. Carla, of course, was ultimately Soccer Mom's owner, too; Nipples could see the colorful corporate logo tattooed on Soccer Mom's inner thigh, next to a long hexadecimal serial number. (Nipples was surprised by the length of that serial number, which would allow for a vast number of different sequences. Just how many puppy girls were they planning to collar?)

The highlight of the tour, naturally, was Mr. Quasimodo, who was larger now and was likely to grow into a 20-pound tomcat. Soccer Mom smiled with pleasure when Mr. Quasimodo rang Nipples' jingle bell, and then began investigating Soccer Mom's body to see whether she had one to swat as well. He rubbed up against her underside, purring loudly. He had seemed a little startled at first to see two large dogs instead of one, but quickly accepted Soccer Mom as another playmate.

The gentle Soccer Mom had no objection to having her breasts used as cat toys; grinning, she even swung them from side to side as he swatted at them, to move them further and give him a sense of accomplishment. Nipples was delighted to see her two friends getting along so well! The three of them played together a while longer, chasing each other around the house, before Nipples picked up Soccer Mom's leash in her jaws again and led her back outside.

At this point, the two AIs reasserted themselves; they announced that they had invented a new jousting game that they wanted their charges to play. Each puppy girl was to pick up one of Nipples' dildo toys in her mouth, and then they were to take turns charging at the other one's raised behind (in the "Present" pose) and try to insert it into her vagina in one thrust. The game took a while to complete successfully, partly because both dogs kept collapsing to the ground laughing, but eventually Nipples won, and had the satisfaction of ramming the dildo she held deep inside Soccer Mom. Her victory was mostly due to her Little Mistress's constantly correcting her aim; she wondered privately whether their two AIs had agreed on that outcome in advance. Following her Little Mistress's instructions, she wiggled the dildo around this way and that, and was rewarded by a truly astonishing series of moans and squeals from Soccer Mom's other end.

Nipples chuckled to herself; she was enjoying this game almost as much as Soccer Mom. It was an excellent game for submissives, she thought, since the "loser" was the one getting the most pleasure out of it. Maybe sometime, though, they could play it with strap-ons, and try to mount each other like real dogs, taking turns playing the dominant? She would have to wait for this to occur to Little Mistress, though.

By now Nipples and Soccer Mom could hardly wait for the main event, and finally their collars gave them permission to begin, after first sending them to the front lawn where their owners and handlers could watch. There a bit of fumbling at first, and Nipples and Soccer Mom stared at each other and giggled with the simultaneous realization that they were both trying to be on the bottom. Of course two submissives were competing to submit to each other! Nipples would have graciously yielded the submissive position to her guest anyway, of course, but the two AIs immediately took charge, and there was no more uncertainty about what to do. Every movement they made from now on would by controlled by their AI overseers.

Soccer Mom was ordered on her back, legs spread apart, with her hair spreading out around her head, her leash lying loose on the ground beside her, and a dreamy smile on her face as she watched Nipples' vulva quickly lowered to her own eagerly parted lips. (Cerisse and Shaniquah had long ago decided, for their own convenience, to have Nipples learn a "Facesit!" command, and that was the order Little Mistress had just given.) As soon as her nethers made contact with Soccer Mom's mouth, Nipples immediately bent forward, as she had been trained, to seek out the honeyed slit waiting for her at the center of Soccer Mom's sandy curls.

That familiar position was only the starting point, as Little Mistress and her fellow PoonTamer issued a nonstop stream of commands that had Nipples and Soccer Mom licking, kissing, or sucking every inch of each other's heated bodies. They leaped to obey each new command, and were continually rewarded by brief flashes of joy sent directly to the pleasure centers of their brains. They were constantly being put in new positions, and Nipples thought she had never had such athletic sex before. There was no opportunity to rest, and whenever Nipples tired and slowed whatever she was doing, a warning zap spurred her to redouble her efforts.

Every movement was smooth and unerring, as if Nipples and Soccer Mom had been having sex for decades and knew each other's bodies inside out; Soccer Mom seemed to know exactly what Nipples liked. In reality, she knew, their PoonTamers were exchanging information on what their hosts enjoyed and issuing the corresponding commands, so it was as if Nipples and Soccer Mom were reading each other's minds as they moved. When Nipples sucked savagely on an offered nipple, she could take it for granted that Soccer Mom liked rough nipple play; and Nipples discovered that she really liked having her own toes licked for a change. No wonder Carla wanted her to do it so often (well, also because Carla enjoyed her mother's submission, of course).

Were the two AIs still negotiating sexual techniques step by step, though, or had they choreographed the entire experience in advance within the first millisecond of their meeting? Had the whole thing been scripted that far in advance? Nipples also wondered how it was that the AIs had become so skilled at directing sex; she felt like a performing monkey, but recognized gratefully that the AIs had them performing like veteran porn stars, without any of the usual fumbling that in her experience characterized most encounters between strangers. Had Little Mistress been watching Internet porn without her? Generative AI had a lot to answer for.

Maybe the AIs had not realized, or cared, that even porn actresses were allowed to rest between takes. Nipples was not being given any choice, of course, and she kept going and going (like an Energizer bunny, she thought). It seemed that with Little Mistress pulling her strings and urging her on, she was capable of superhuman erotic feats.

And where in hell had the AIs learned about fisting? That was new to her, too, though not entirely unwelcome. She enjoyed cradling a friend's fist inside her, and the pressure reminded her of Gino's immense knot. Lost in the intense sensations, she was barely aware of their human owners and handlers watching their acrobatics in amazement from nearby.

She and Soccer Mom repeatedly approached a climax but were skillfully brought back down before they could achieve release, to their immense frustration. (Their collars seemed to enjoy edging them.) Finally, the marathon orgy came to a final crescendo, and first Soccer Mom and then Nipples shuddered in a soul-shattering orgasm, shared by their AI collars, and the two dogs were finally allowed to rest on the grass, slumped limply against each other and too tired to pull their fists out of each other.

Nipples was hazily grateful that the PoonTamers had allowed her guest to come first; that was basic hospitality, after all! She remembered that Abby had programmed the collars to experience double-intensity orgasms whenever Nipples came; maybe they had been saving the best for last for themselves? It was a tribute to Abby's impressive engineering skills that Little Mistress could survive such an intense voltage surge without shorting out--though that would have been too easy a way for a puppy girl to free herself from her collar, if she could even conceive of freedom. Thank goodness the collars were built to last forever.

As they lay panting together on the grass, Nipples wondered why, at a certain point, her Little Mistress's familiar half-affectionate, half-contemptuous voice in her ears had been replaced by another female voice snapping orders at her with a crisp, upper-class British accent. It was the kind of voice that made her picture a tall blonde dominatrix swinging a riding crop at her backside, and she loved hearing it (she did not know why, but a British accent always made her swoon). Something else had been different, too. Nipples was very used to the way that Little Mistress steered her with delicate touches of pleasure and pain, but this stern voice had been accompanied by a somewhat different style--more impatient and forceful. Nipples was almost certain that a completely different personality had been controlling her this time. Who exactly had been riding her? She had no idea what was going on, but she hoped to hear from that British dominatrix again...

After Nipples and Soccer Mom had recovered a little (both were healthy animals in superb physical condition, so it did not take too long), Little Mistress's familiar voice ordered Nipples to her feet. The fists were pulled out with a wet pop, Nipples and Soccer Mom smiled gratefully at each other, and Nipples picked up her friend's leash in her mouth and led her back to their human handlers at a trot.

The humans were all visibly aroused by the strenuous exhibition that they had just watched; Albert and Tim had huge erections straining at their pants, and Abby and Carla were obviously in heat, flushed and breathing heavily. Nipples thought it was peculiar that they hadn't already done something about it--two males and two females, what could be more convenient? Humans had such ridiculous inhibitions. What did it matter if they were banging a boss, or a sibling? The two men should have been bouncing Abby and Carla up and down on the ground by now! Nipples was proud that she and her new friend had had such an erotic effect on them, but it looked like their own arousal was not quite contagious enough.

The two puppy girls were covered in grass stains, sweat, and each other's fluids. Nipples wished that they had been allowed a little more time together afterwards; she would have loved to lick Soccer Mom clean all over, and the thought gave her a thrill up and down her spine; but she supposed someone would be bathing both of them soon, or at least hosing them down. Nipples admitted to herself that she had an ulterior motive; giving Soccer Mom a thorough tongue bath would have been a natural prelude to a second round. And then maybe another tongue bath!

Albert accepted Soccer Mom's leash from Nipples, and she knelt at his feet, smiling. Albert casually unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, and snapped his fingers. Soccer Mom eagerly bent to her task and her reward; and Nipples watched closely from only a few inches away, admiring the skillful licks of Soccer Mom's tongue against his velvety glans. Soccer Mom was clearly a veteran cockhound in her own right. She noticed Nipples' intent scrutiny, and winked cheerfully. Nipples was jealous, but would never be so gauche as to steal another dog's treat. So, she waited impatiently.

When Soccer Mom had finished and lovingly licked Albert's cock clean, Albert began to tuck it away again, but before he could do so, Nipples lunged forward and took it into her own mouth. Her rationale was that she owed Albert a thank-you for bringing Soccer Mom to her, though really, she just did not want to be left out. No punishment came her way, so she assumed she had Little Mistress's blessing; Albert seemed surprised, but was apparently reluctant to insult his CEO's mother and did not pull back, or cuff her head sharply. She knew that he would not be afraid of her teeth; any experienced puppy-girl handler would know that they would never bite.