A Dog/slave Weeend

48

John/Frisky lapped and lapped. Juices flowed. He would catch his own saliva when he could. Into finding her third orgasm Francy's grip on the leash kept his face planted between her legs. Pulling the leash she attempted to use his tongue as an excavator to dig up at least one more orgasm buried in there.

With a shudder she found it as her captive dog/slave finished her off steady and slow.

Her head laid back she breathed hard until she could finally say, "How have I been living my life without this?" She gave a great sigh of stress relief then said, "My husband wouldn't ever even..." she trailed off not wanting to rehash old memories of neglect and abandonment. She didn't want to go there. Not now. Not when she could bask in the warmth of three lovely orgasms that every other woman on the planet get except for herself.

"Hello -- Hello..." the voice came from the back door.

Francy shot up tossing the leash on the couch cushion and pulling both sets of her pants up just as her friend walked into the living room.

John/Frisky new her to be the woman who wore the white shirt the night she witnessed him signing the dog/slave contract and other legal documents. That same night when she had replaced Francy in the guest room to take advantage of his helplessness and pleasure of his tongue, she had reveled very little about herself to John/Frisky. Like she didn't want to be there, but did it anyway.

"Frisky," Francy said, "you remember Georgia?"

He remembered a slightly lemony taste.

Georgia stepped around the couch to see Frisky better. She gripped her purse in front of herself like an old lady and leaned forward over him. "Well, hello little doggie."

Francy threw her hand in the air. "Well, if he had a tail he'd probably be wagging it."

Georgia sat her purse down on the couch. "She's still got him chained down on all fours, huh?" she said before turning and sitting down in the chair next to her.

"No keys," Francy said sitting back down in her favorite spot.

"Still treating him like a dog?"

"Training him to be a dog. And let me tell you," Francy gave a malevolent laugh, "whatever she's doing, it's working."

"Oh, ho," Georgia squealed and clapped her hands together, "come here, boy. Let me see you."

The war was over. The war..? There had to be a bloody battle for their to be a war. No, the objection was over. The objection to his treatment as a dog was over. He had only objected to being treated as a dog mostly in his mind anyway. A weak, submissive objection. He did this to himself. He, himself, had closed the locks on the ankle shackles and chains. He had closed the lock on the dog collar and on the left mitt. And he had done so with a hard-on! Of course Ashley had to close the final lock on his right mitt.

This was the end result of throwing a dog/slave into the real world. Mentally weak and naturally submissive to the real people around him. How could they not see him as something less than human? How could anyone resist filling the power vacuum he vacated with the snap closings of the padlocks? Everyone around him was now on the same page as himself. They saw him for what he was, for how he has seen himself for a lifetime, a sub-human. Inferior. A dog.

Frisky crawled on knees and paws over to the nice blonde lady that was so tickled to see him. She pet his head and looked into his eyes.

"Poor thing," Georgia said. "What has she done to you?"

Frisky didn't care. He stepped forward and laid his chin on Georgia's lap enjoying the petting.

"He's really taken to this, hasn't he?" she said over his head to Francy.

Francy nodded.

"I wonder how Valerie is doing it?"

"Well, she used my grandma's house this morning for some one-on-one time. Maybe she screwed the fight out of him?"

"When is he going back to Valerie?"

"I dunno. When she calls or comes to get him."

"Have you already..."

"Yeah. While we were waiting for you."

Georgia lifted Frisky's head with both hands and began to ruffle his ears. "Now it's my turn? Is it my turn, little guy?"

"You should see what she did to him down there," Francy said, nodding her head in gesture toward his pants. "That might take the fight out of any guy."

Her wedding ring scratched across Frisky's belly when Georgia slipped her hands behind the waistband of his shorts. She pulled the elastic far enough out to see the shiny metal imprisoning his dick. "Oh, dear," she said using one finger to inspect the lock, flipping it around.

Restoring the shorts to their normal fitting around Frisky's waist Georgia said, "What is a man to do without his dick?"

"Whatever the woman tell him to do, I guess," Francy laughed.

"I should get one for my husband!"

"I need to get a man to put it on."

Frisky sat listening to his superiors laugh and giggle. It was good they were happy. That meant all was well.

"Take him in the bedroom," Francy said. "Or the bathroom if you want."

"Remember last time at Valerie's house how guilty I felt after?"

"Yeah."

"On the ride home I felt so guilty. And then when I got home Justin was slobbing around in front of the TV and the kids were still being little assholes. Absolutely nothing had changed. I cleaned the kitchen, watched a show in the bedroom and went to bed like nothing in the world had happened."

"It's just an orgasm."

"Come on Frisky," Georgia said grabbing the leash and standing up. "Let's go in the bathroom. Okay..?"

Frisky dutifully followed encouraged on by "Good boy," and, "That's a good boy."

The door shut behind him making the bathroom feel even smaller than it was. Georgia unceremoniously dropped her jeans and white undies then grabbed the back of Frisky's head. She lunged his face into her waiting blonde bush as his tongue began to dance on the entrance to her womanhood.

Between the stimulation of his wet tongue and the thrill of the naughty it didn't take long for Georgia to generate her own juices, which Frisky all but used to amplify his efforts.

For some reason Frisky's administrations incited a sexual excitement in her that she hadn't felt in years. It was different from her husband's tongue. Perhaps it was that in the back of her mind she knew he would rush through it just so he could plunge his cock inside of her, get off, roll over and go to sleep while she was left to clean herself and his cock up before it got all over the bed. Was it bad she was comparing Justin to Frisky? The dog/slave was taking its time. No rush. No excitement to cum himself. Valerie had seen to that, even though there was no way Georgia would stoop so low to masturbate it.

If there was ever a perfect toy to play with while hubby was away or busy, Frisky the dog/slave was it. Valerie had done it again. Perfect husband, perfect children, perfect home, perfect life. Now the perfect sex toy.

The tingle in her stomach grew to an arching of her back as she leaned against the tiny sink counter. She came with an explosive thrust forward into Frisky's face driving his tongue deeper inside her than Justin's had ever been.

She bent forward to catch her breath using Frisky's head to balance herself. The slow licking of the big tongue sped up, became more and more ridged as it tunneled its way back into her. She leaned back, swayed her hips all the while holding the dog/slave's head in place. She burst through that second dam, allowing herself to feel the flood of energy shoot from his tongue to the tips of her toe and head. It was better than the first one.

Georgia pushed his head away as she caught her breath.

Frisky wondered what the lemon taste was. Soap maybe.

Did she dare go for a third one? Justin was never in it for more than two. And she had never worked herself up to a third orgasm when masturbating. Maybe she couldn't find anything stimulating enough to think about. Or giving herself permission to be so greedy. Maybe she just didn't try.

Again Frisky tasted the lemon ever so subtle on the juices of Georgia's clitoris as the pressure from her hands again slammed his face forward. His soft ministrations with the tip of his tongue swelled her clitoris into another earth shattering orgasm.

Georgia held her breath and curled her toes for the longest moment until finally shaking and stiffening every muscle fiber of her body. Her breath shook, gasping out small amounts of air. Until it was over. She relaxed as the feeling subsided like an ocean wave abandoning the rocks on the shore with a promise to return one day.

What was it that made Georgia so free to orgasm a third time? She searched through what just happened. She was satisfied with the second orgasm. Then she thought about herself. Then Frisky. And again about herself with Frisky. Then about herself over Frisky. Holding his leash. Doing as she pleased for once without concern for someone else. The dog/slave was locked in a chastity sheath assuring that he wouldn't cum if he had to. Yet she had the power to orgasm again herself. And then she took it. Took it from him with the power of a god. Reliving it she gushed fluids again.

She looked around for a towel but the hanger was empty. Still looking for something, anything to absorb it she said, "Lap it up, Frisky, hurry before it gets my pants wet." He did. His tongue trailed up her inner thighs absorbing the bulk of the vaginal juices before it went any further.

She told him what to do and he did it. No question. No backtalk. No, 'I'll get it tomorrow.' The power she held in her hands embolden her for a forth time to plunge herself on Frisky's face. There was no tongue to lick her as she was too far up his face. It didn't matter. Georgia ground her groin up and down his face, making it hard for him to breath. But she didn't care wanting what she wanted. And she got it with another toe wrenching, eye rolling orgasm.

"I've never..." she gasped in shock. Her mouth hung open as Frisky's face remained buried between her inner thighs. She froze in place from the awe of the moment as she backed up to the counter letting Frisky breath. The flood gates to a new life had opened to her.

"Are you two okay in there?" Francy said in accompaniment of three knocks on the door. "You're going to bring the house down."