Part 2 - Jack's Style / The Boucher Racket
It hadn't taken Jack long to make use of his purchase. He was kind enough to walk her around the building to the dumpsters in the back. They were shared with a cafe and an ice cream shop, and the dumpsters themselves were painted a bright new green. A happy grass green. Penina didn't understand why they were here when Jack had said he wanted a coffee. Then she thought she would be making good on that blowjob here, in this filthy place, and as much as she wanted to say to him
I have more dignity than this
the truth is her whole body was on fire with a need for him. Or for something. And as gross as it was to be sucking on someone's dick while swatting flies away she knew that she would do it in a second if he asked. Or told.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth, little Pebble."
She would do him even better. She popped her candy lips open, her tongue flat until it left her mouth where it bent wickedly down her chin, shut her pastel eyelids and dropped with grace and fervor to her knees. The cement hurt but she was too concerned with how much spit was in her mouth to care. Jack laughed out loud.
He left her to wait a moment, on her knees by the trash, mouth agape like a gentleman's magazine discarded there on the pavement, flapping in the wind. And before she could start asking if he wanted her (perhaps playfully peak one eye open and act a little bratty for him) she felt something firm and claylike press onto her tongue. It was saltier than bacon grease. Jack's hand followed after, shutting her lips together with his palm. "Chew it. Chew it, baby."
God oh God
As solid as it was, somehow the thing in her mouth gave the sensation of melting, like a chocolate might. But there wasn't the slightest sweetness: it was savory and thick with wild, gamy flavors.
"It's not coming out, Pebble. You have to eat your treat. Most doggies find it encouraging!"
She couldn't muster even half the force needed to dislodge his hand from her mouth and each time she shook her head the treat rolled into her teeth and suddenly felt dusty and coarse. Neverthless her hands were around his wrist but they couldn't budge him in the slightest.
With tears of disgust and frustration in her big brown eyes she stared, begging, into his. But his were cruel and bright and told her what she would be doing.
She began to chew. Her molars squished and deformed it but couldn't break it.
How is it this gummy when it's this hard?
Each movement of her jaws brought more spit and more flavor washing across her tongue. She pushed the awful
Salmon? Chicken?
tidbit into her eye teeth and it began, mercifully, to break. The crumbs were smooth and rough at once, like play-do, and a strong taste of scrambled egg burst from the centre of the treat.
"This isn't just tasty, you know. It will keep your coat silky, and it says that these ingredients are organic, wow! What a lucky little doggy."
It went down in two swallows but she knew in the future
Lord please not my future
that she could get the bite-sized lump down in one swallow once chewed. Jack wrapped her hair behind her ear.
"Good girl!" he said.
She hated how good it made her feel to hear it. It cut through the taste of the dog treat to her limp wet dick and made her throb somewhere soft. But after that passed the wretched taste brought her back to herself.
"C-Can I have some wa--"
"Stand up."
He pulled her to her feet and cupped her chin. "I'm going to get a coffee. I'll see if they have any whipped cream for my poor doggy on this hot day, okay?"
The thought of that sugar in her mouth made her stomach churn. "N-No! Please, I'll, it will be my treat okay, Jack? And I'll just get, like, I'll just get some water. Please?"
His finger silenced that option. "I'll be the one giving treats here, little Pebble. Now I can't bring my doggy into the store, so I'll tie her up outside. I think you need to change."
She looked around, distressed. Not only was there no changing room around, there was
nothing
around. Just dumpsters and a fire hydrant.
He pulled the collar from the Doggie-Meow bag. "Do you want to wear this for me?"
Her nipples stiffened and she hoped that she was blushing. She felt like she was blushing. And she did, indeed, want to wear it for him. More than anything.
Those big browns glanced up at him again, and then back to the hard red leather in his hands.
"Yes." She whispered.
He smiled. He knew. "Good girl. Get undressed."
"What?"
Jack lay the collar over her shoulder. It was heavy, and would be all the heavier on her throat. He grinned like a wolf. "Dogs don't wear anything but their collars, dummy. It would be wrong if they did. So get undressed."
He ripped the collar off her shoulder and down her body. She flinched. The sense of leather moving fast made her heart beat wildly. It felt like being pinned to the ground, like being bitten by something unseen.
Penina swallowed.
"But," she said, her voice dreamy as if hypnotized. "But we're... we're just out here. Jack, anyone could... could see me."
"Nobody's gonna get bent out of shape to see a little piece of ass like you naked on a summer day," he said.
His hand palmed her breast with room to spare. Even feeling the weight of his hand on her chest was a convincing argument. "Besides you're going to have to get used to this. Once I buy you you'll be naked all the time, little slave-to-be."
"Would you really buy me?"
"A little thing like you? I hope they sell you by the pound. As soon as it's legal, babe."
Her breathing was hard and deep. She wanted him, desperately, to feel her breasts rise and fall against his fingers. She wanted to straddle him right there, feel his hard cock take her owned ass. A cock that was everything to her and just another orgasm for him.
"Are you really going to buy me?"
"Only if you start listening. You're going to earn this collar."
