A Dog/salve Weeend Chapter 20

20

Led by the leash into the guest bedroom, Francy ominously closed the door behind him. Pulled toward the bed, he looked back at the closed door, at the doorknob he new he could neither reach nor turn to escape.

Francy plopped her wide thighs down on the bed clinging to the leash so as not to let her evening of delight scamper away.

"Valerie showed me pictures she has of you with her sister," she said, rubbing John's bald head. "It was such nice hair, too."

"Yeah, well, I'll be growing it back as soon as all of this nonsense is over."

Francy looked down at him with an understanding smile. "You think so..?"

John finally felt the alcohol start to melt down his mental walls.

"What if Valerie doesn't let you grow your hair back?"

"What's she got to do with it? It's not as if she..."

"I'm pretty sure she thinks she does."

"It's all a mind game."

"I read that dog/slave contract. Janet, the older lady who left? Yeah, she wouldn't have notarized them if they weren't legally legitimate."

Perhaps it was the strong drink confusing his thoughts, or, someone was slowly pulling the floor out from under him. He looked up into Francy's face. "What am I going to do?"

"Look," Francy said dropping the leash to wave her hands as if warding off evil spirits."Valerie invited me over to witness you signing that contract. Then she promised me an evening of a few drinks and fun."

The short girl leaned forward resting her arms on her knees. "I don't want to disappoint her."

"So you're not going to use me?"

"I guess I could... Good Lord knows I should!" her hazel eyes widened at the idea, but then resumed their regular shape. "I know I'm not much to look at. My husband married me over a drunken, one night stand pregnancy. He left me right after the miscarriage. I had to get him drunk again just to have sex with me on my wedding night."

John said nothing. What could he say?

She picked the end of the leash up. She looked him in the eye. "Valerie said you wanted this," Francy shook the leash. "You want this?"

"I... I..."

"I don't know much about this Master and slave lifestyle. Chains and whips and stuff... I rent from Valerie and Randy. They have several rentals and Valerie is kind enough to keep my rent well below going prices so I can afford it. Sometimes..." she paused as if not wanting to reveal a truth she wasn't even willing to admit to herself, "sometimes she even lets me slide on my rent," Francy said. "She's a good person. She's my friend."

"Don't feel obligated to do something we both might regret," said John.

"I just wanted the fairytale life. Marriage. Kids..."

John's neck snapped back when Francy yanked the leash, his head between her knees.

"Since the miscarriage, along with health issues, I realize that life isn't fair."

It was a confessional John felt unqualified to listen to. Regardless of the poor hand Francy was dealt by life, his instinct was to stand and comfort her yet the chains, shackles and leash held tightly by her hand prevented him from being anything more than a dog/slave.

"Valerie with her rich, handsome husband. Multiple homes. Cars. Now you, a...a...a dog/slave."

"Look what she did to my mouth," John said opening his jaw revealing the canine teeth.

It was the idea that she literally had a man at the end of a leash under her complete control that stood Francy up as her pants dropped and she stepped out of them.

Her pink panties were next reveling a semi-manicured patch of pubic hair. She quickly resumed her spot on the bed and pulled John's face into her crotch. "I am not that grotesque that no man can love me. And while I wait for him to show up, why shouldn't I enjoy Valaire's hospitality?"

Before John could object Francy's hand wrapped around the back of his head and his mouth became full of floppy, partly wet, folds of flesh. He grumbled and she giggled.

Is this what he always wanted? To be flagrantly used by his superior captors against his will? His tongue stabbed into Francy. She gave an unexpected, much withheld sigh of pleasure.

Her hand pulled him in further making it hard to breath which only made his tongue dance along the folds harder, digging in at random times. Francy leaned over until her breasts where on top of his head.

John kept his tongue vibrantly active until Francy leaned back clutching his leash to assure her own satisfaction was fulfilled. A long, overdue reward just for being a woman, an escape of unrealized potential of her own sexuality. In time she shuddered and shook, her breath irregular and the bed jiggled.

John was slowly suffocating nose deep in the woman, the collar threatening to finish the job by choking him. Francy quickly came to a second orgasm.

The leash slackened enough for John to scuttle back to let both Francy and himself catch their breath. It was over. How could he ever explain this to Ashley? This whole circus of events twisted in his mind.

The leash reeled him back in like a fish on a line. "Not so fast, dog boy."