Dog Days, Chapter 3: Revelations
by yfnsp
[Where were we? At the end of Chapter 2, Buddy has allowed himself to be collared, leashed, gagged, and hobbled. Sheila has taken him for a walk in the garden.]
When Sheila led Buddy back into the house, she found Betty in the kitchen. Sheila was getting used to seeing her mother naked. "Did you have a nice walk, dear?" Betty asked her daughter. "How did he behave?"
Sheila laughed and, bending down to unclip the leash, answered, "Yes." She patted Buddy on the head and ruffled his curly gray hair. "He was a good boy, weren't you Buddy!" she said in the sing-song voice of a trainer praising her pet. "I walked him all along the fence line and he lifted his leg and peed in the flower bed, just like a good little doggy." She petted him again. "I think his knees are a little sore - the grass wasn't too bad, but the patio... looked like it hurt a little."
"You need knee pads, like Marci said." Betty got a bowl and three wine glasses out of the cupboard. "You should start a shopping list for your new pet." She looked down at Buddy, sitting up on his haunches next to Sheila. In this position, his cock and balls were in full view. She unconsciously licked her lips. "Another thing you're going to need is a doggy bowl." She placed the bowl and the glasses on the kitchen table and turned to the refrigerator. "Marci told me to serve everybody drinks. You have a bottle of Chablis in here. Okay if we have that?"
"Sure!" Sheila replied, "but make Buddy's a Budweiser. There should be some on the bottom shelf."
Betty opened a can of beer and poured the contents into the bowl, which she set on the floor beside the fridge, before opening the wine. Buddy crawled over and, tongue out, lowered his face into the bowl of beer. Betty pored three glasses of wine and set them on a tray to carry into the living room, but Buddy was beginning to whine, having found it nearly impossible to imbibe from the bowl. Betty turned from the task at hand to attend to the distressed pet, but Sheila said, "Let me, Mom, I'll help him. You go ahead and serve the drinks. I'll be right in."
"What's the matter, Buddy boy?" she said, squatting beside her husband-pet. "Are we having trouble drinking?" She ruffled his hair. Buddy whined and pawed at her. He was sticking his tongue out through the gag and whimpering. "Is that nasty gag in the way?" Sheila asked. "Here, let mommy take it off for you." He licked her hand and yipped gratefully as she reached toward the buckle at the back of his neck. "Now, Buddy, if I take this off, you have to promise not to talk, okay? Promise?" Buddy yipped again, clearly agreeing, and lowered his head to expose the buckle to Sheila's grasp.