Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Anniversary Assignment: Doghouse Part One

Assigned by Mistress Ellen

Part One


Saturday morning I climbed into my truck, tossed my bag of toys in the seat beside me, and turned the key in the ignition. I was nervous of course. Who wouldn’t be, right? To help settle my nerves I grabbed the remote to the vibroballs and turned it up a notch. I needed the distraction. My pussy quivered and I held my breath for a moment as my body adjusted to the increased stimulation. Slowly I put my boot on the accelerator as I put the gear into drive and I moved off down the driveway.

Don’t worry. I wasn’t going far.

As soon as I got off our property I pulled over to the side of the road. It was a breezy morning, but not terribly cold. Sure, I still had my duster, and I’d be wearing it, but Kari’s instructions had been pretty specific. I was to arrive at her place by eight o’clock, naked, unstuffed, with a set of specific toys. Those were in the bag, and let me tell you her list made me nervous. There were some things in there that weren’t the most pleasant sex toys ever.

I put the truck in park and cranked up the vibroballs to full. I moaned quite a bit as my pussy convulsed around the two elliptical objects buzzing inside me. Had I reached down, even for a moment, and placed any amount of pressure on my clit, I would have cum. Instead I got out of the truck. I moved to the front and took off my duster. I laid it neatly on the hood and then started unbuttoning my shirt. It was a long sleeve number, teal of course, leaning more to the blue end than the green, but it was warm. I shivered a little bit, and not from the vibroballs either, as I shucked out of the shirt, folded it, and laid it on the hood.

My jeans went next, which left me in just bra and panties. I had placed the remote on the hood. I started to hurry, not because I was worried about being seen, but because I had goose bumps. I tugged off my bra, my nipples hardening in about three milliseconds, and then I pushed my panties down my bare legs and off my feet. I grabbed my duster and swirled it around myself, trembling. I dropped the remote into the inside pocket, buttoned the whole thing up, and then grabbed my clothing and tippy toed through the gravel back to the cab.

Kari had said I didn’t need shoes and I had stupidly forgotten to bring even my flip flops. So I drove barefoot. I cranked the heater up, set it to both floor and vent, and took off. I stopped about twenty feet later to turn off the vibroballs. Then I took off again. The drive to Kari’s apartment wasn’t bad. It took the usual forty minutes, even with weekend traffic, and I enjoyed the warm feeling, wondering if any of my fellow road hogs suspected that the pretty red head in the truck was naked under that coat. After a while, I started getting warm so I unbuttoned it. I didn’t put on a show, but if anyone had really looked, they would have been able to tell that I wasn’t wearing anything under the duster.

I pulled up to Kari’s apartment complex, punching in the code to get in through the gate. I parked as close to her apartment as possible, since I was well aware that I’d be leaving my duster in the truck. Kari had a very simple rule. If I had to come to her apartment, I had to do it appropriately dressed, and in Kari’s lexicon, that meant nude. It was a twenty second run from the parking lot to her door, but I’ve done it so many times that I shucked out of my duster, removed the vibroballs (yes I licked them clean before putting them away,) grabbed my bag, and got out of the truck.

And then got right back in again as two guys in a coupe came around the corner. I sort of shrank down as they drove past, hiding my nudity behind the dash. They never even looked at me. When my heart stopped racing, I tried again. This time I locked the truck and took off, my bare feet slapping on the cold asphalt. I got up on the sidewalk and ran down the corridor, past about a dozen units before taking the stairwell up to the third floor. I ran along the balcony, slowing as I did because I didn’t want to attract attention and because Kari didn’t appreciate it when I showed up breathing hard. She once told me that I needed to walk. I told her I didn’t want to be arrested for public indecency. She just laughed.

I know. It’s one of my hard limits. But Kari gets away with shit. I’ve actually been detained by the police once for being naked in public. It was my freshman year at school and Kari had ordered me to strip and skinny dip in the fountain one night as we were crossing the school campus. It had been meant as a private show for her, and to humiliate me, since it was still the first semester and I wasn’t used to doing so much public stuff. A bike cop had shown up, rolling out of the darkness and Kari used her amazing ability to get me off the hook.

As well as a body cavity search. But that’s another story. Maybe I’ll tell Michael about it and he can fictionalize it for his Angie and Kat stories.

I took a deep breath and waited for my heart to slow down as I stood in front of Kari’s door. Then I knocked.

It opened after about ten seconds and I saw Kari there, in jeans and a pretty red blouse. The jeans were designer, and must have cost about two hundred bucks. The jeans I had been wearing earlier cost twenty bucks and came from Wal-Mart. Mine looked like they could stand mucking out a stall. Her jeans looked like they could handle MAYBE a walk through a mall.

See? I’m not jealous. Not at all. Okay. Maybe just a little bit. Kari is just so damn successful. I know she got a big boost from her dad with start-up funds, but geeze, she rakes in six figures a year and I’m lucky to bank away thirty grand. Of course, I have absolutely no over head and there are some other benefits about living with your parents, which I can’t go into, but still…

I wonder what it would be like to be rich.

Kari grabbed me, hugged me, and pulled me into the warm dwelling. As usual, the place was immaculate. Not a speck of dust anywhere. Nothing out of place. Even the couch pillows were properly pluffed. I put my bag down under the small door table where Kari kept her keys. God knows what would have happened had I dumped it on the couch.

Robert was sitting on the couch, just as naked as I was. However, unlike me, he was already in bondage. His arms and legs were free, but his cock had been stuffed into a hose like contraption that curved under his crotch and was connected to the back of a belt wrapped around his waist. In essence, it was like a thong bikini, except his dick made the thong. I could also see that there was some sort of vibrating toy stuffed into the hose. I felt sorry for him. It couldn’t be comfortable. I know from experience that a man’s tip can be very sensitive and with his cock in a position preventing a hard-on, combined with non-stop stimulation of the tip, and I knew he’d have a tough time. I wondered how long he had been stuffed in the thing.

But he greeted me with a warm smile and a verbal hello. I grinned back at him and smiled. Robert and I shared something special. We both have served under Kari and understand her. In fact, Robert is the longest lasting boy toy Kari has ever had. He’s lasted well over a year, in fact I think he’s almost to two years. Not sure though. I’d have to ask. He’s perfectly suited to Kari though. He’s handsome, muscular, flexible, polite, demure, very manly, and a closet submissive. He’s also a day trader on the stock market. He keeps asking me for money to invest for me, but I’m scared to play the slot machine much less the stock market. Kari tortures him constantly, so I have no idea how he actually manages to work. But he does.

“I have a present for you,” Kari announced. I turned toward my former and current Mistress. “I hope Mistress Ellen approves of it.”

She pulled an item out from behind her back and I winced. The first thing I noticed was the fur. It was a tail, about a foot long and very fluffy. From the way Kari was bending it, I was pretty sure there was some metal inside so you could form it. But what really got to me was the fact that it was attached, quite permanently by the way, to the biggest black rubber butt plug I’ve ever seen, owned, or had shoved up my ass.

Kari knows I don’t like butt plugs.

“Get on all fours,” she ordered. I complied immediately. Not to do so would have resulted in some serious discomfort, not that I wasn’t about to experience serious discomfort anyway. I shuddered as I arched my back, lifting my ass upward. I felt Kari press the anal plug to my bottom, but she slid it downward and started pushing it part way into my pussy. I know what she was doing. She wanted my own lubrication to handle the plug.

Usually, when I go out on an assignment that I suspect I might get something up my ass, I pre-lubricate myself. I know. It’s weird, isn’t it? But it’s a hell of a lot better than taking something dry. I use a non-water soluble mineral oil, much like baby oil, but with some citrus scent to it. I have a special applicator that allows me to squirt about a teaspoon’s worth of oil up into my ass, which helps me stay clean, smooth, and undamaged.

I hadn’t done it that morning. I wasn’t expecting a plug. It hadn’t been on the list of things to bring.

I started to moan though as the thick plug pushed into my pussy. Kari kept ramming it in deeper and when she reached around and started to rub my clit I gasped and started thrusting back to meet her movements. Just as I was getting close to cumming, she yanked the plug out of my pussy, moved it to my ass, and used my own thrust backward to start the implantation.

I cried out. It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but after the initial clenching of the buttocks, I tried to relax and Kari worked the plug into my anus. God it was big. It was huge. It felt huge. Finally it slipped home, my sphincter locking around the base. I now had a huge tail waving above my rear end.

“Aw! What a cute little puppy!” Kari exclaimed, rubbing my head as if I were a dog.

She stood up, went to my bag, and rifled through it for a moment. My dog collar, complete with the little “Breanne” tag she had bought me, came out and she quickly locked it around my throat. The leash followed. I was then paraded around the apartment, still on all fours, still desperate, dragged forward by the leash.

Kari marched me back to where Robert was sitting. He was ordered to spread his legs and scoot forward to the edge of the couch. I could no CLEARLY see the nature of his torment. His balls had been smashed to the sides, the hose pushing his testicles apart. The whole thing was pulsing and I think that Robert was actually FUCKING the hose. His face was flushed, though still outwardly calm. I could see a bit of oil or fluid leaking from the end of the hose, coating the base of his cock.

“Lick his balls like a good little puppy” Kari told me, pointing at Robert’s groin. “I’ve got a few things to do and then we’ll go.”

I didn’t hesitate but immediately drove my nose up between Robert’s thighs. I’ve given Robert blowjobs before, even screwed him silly. Once I even participated in milking him: a sixteen hour tag team affair that ended with him sobbing in agony, even as he was cumming inside Kari.

Robert is also incredibly clean, shaved, rarely eats red meat, garlic, or onions, or drinks beer. This makes even his cum taste good. So I had no second thoughts about licking his balls, no matter how… distasteful that might seem. I pressed my nose up to the cock hose restraint and began licking. He moaned, then whimpered. I felt his hand on my head and he began rubbing my hair, stroking me even as I moved over to the other side of the restraint and licked his other testicle. I tried to suck one into my mouth, but the way the hose was pulled back between his legs made it impossible. So I stayed with licking.

It wasn’t long before Robert’s breathing got a little heavier and my heart went out to him. You have to understand, I love Robert. Oh not as a potential mate or anything like that, but we have a bond through our servitude with Kari. Even with me being an EX-sex slave and him being a current one, we connect on a deeper level than most people. In short, I felt sorry for what he was going through. As my mouth gently probed between his legs my hand came up, grabbed the hose his cock was stuck in, and began squeeze gently.

“Oh God, no Breanne!” he gasped. I lifted my face long enough to see the scarlet flush of desperation on his face, his muscles tightened, his hands clenched into fists. Oops. I quickly let go of the hose.

“I’m sorry!” I whispered, just as Kari came out of the back bedroom.

“You’re sorry for what?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing, Kari.” I replied. I had to stifle my urge to call her Mistress, an appellation she never liked from me, even when we were in college. Odd though that she requires Robert to call her that.

She grinned. “Did you touch the hose, dear one?” She laughed. “There’s oil in it and very uncomfortable if he gets a hard on, isn’t it Robert?”

“Yes Mistress,” Robert said, his voice rough and full of tension. He was obviously suffering from just that. I can’t imagine what he was going through. I know that when a guy gets turned on blood flows into the cock and hardens it, but considering the rather curved and bound restraint Robert’s cock was in, I’m guessing that the blood flow of arousal merely made his cock hurt. Not to mention the vibrating toy in the tip, tantalizing his tip. I wasn’t helping by touching him. I was making it worse.

“Tell Breanne why you’re being punished,” Kari directed her boy toy.

“I came at an inopportune moment,” Robert replied, looking at me.

Kari clucked her tongue. “That’s not why you’re being punished.” She bent over and grabbed the hose, sliding it up and down, clearly moving it along the sides of his folded cock.

Robert shuddered, gasping and groaning. “I came on your favorite shirt, Mistress.”

“That’s right. And that’s why you’re being punished.” Kari said, giving the hose a final squeeze. She turned and looked at me. I had pulled backward, my orders to lick Robert’s balls forgotten.

Kari turned, leaving Robert to his personal torment and focused on me. “Get on all fours,” she ordered.

I immediately obeyed, dropping down to my hands and knees. My hair fell down around my face and I could feel the huge tail sticking out of the bottom plug waving in the air. Kari walked around me, examining me for a moment before disappearing back into her bedroom. Both Robert and I stayed where we were, trained to well to risk moving. Kari returned after only a minute and she began working on my hair. In short order she had parted my red locks to either side of my head and finished the style with pigtails sticking out from the sides of my head. It kept my hair under control, but it had the added effect of making me look stupid.

Or really young.

Or like a Bassett hound.

“Clench your ass,” Kari told me. I did so and she shook her head. “That won’t do at all. Wiggle your ass instead.”

I “shook my booty” as it is sometimes referred and Kari laughed delightedly. “When you like something, you are to do that. Your tail wags.”

I blushed, horrified that my “tail wagged”.

Kari grabbed hold of my leash then and pulled me toward the apartment door. She grabbed my bag, set it next to her purse, and then went and kissed Robert. She whispered a few directions to him and I heard his immediate “yes Mistress” responses. Then Kari came back to me, told me to stand up, and opened the apartment door.

Cool air rushed over me and my skin immediately raised in goosebumps the size of my freezing nipples. I hurriedly followed Kari as she led me across the balcony and down the stairs, my leash, bag, and her purse in her hands. We made it to her private parking space with no one around to see me and I was pushed into Kari’s car.

Kari tossed me a blanket which I hurriedly wrapped around myself. It was cold, and even Kari’s expensive BMW didn’t heat things up quickly enough to keep me from starting to shiver. I buckled in under the blanket, the strap between my breasts, but I was most uncomfortable where I was sitting. The tail was applying some rather odd pressure to the anal plug, which was pushing against my insides rather differently. I couldn’t get comfortable.

My stomach was doing flip flops as we got closer to the kennel. It wasn’t even nine am yet and already I was half dreading the day. Part of it was because I knew what was coming. Mistress Ellen’s Anniversary Assignment had been rather clear on goals, if short on details. I knew that I was going to literally be “bred” to five different dogs. To make matters worse, Kari had volunteered to “arrange” things, which in and of itself would have made me nervous. Mistress Ellen had said I was to be subjected to “extreme obedience training.” What did that mean? More tricks? I already knew “fetch”, “sit”, “beg”, and “suck”.

To be honest, I have no idea why I accepted the assignment in the first place. Maybe it was because I didn’t think it would score enough points to even be in contention. Maybe it was because I wanted the risk. Personally, I absolutely hate the idea of sex with an animal. I’d never fuck one of our goats, or a horse, or a pig for God’s sake. It’s not even a THOUGHT in my mind.

The first dog I ever had sex with was a German Shepherd at a friend’s place. It was during my freshman year of college and Kari and I were spending the night playing truth and dare and spin the bottle, drinking games, and by the time three am rolled around I was pretty plastered, naked, and already had a chocolate bar eaten out of my pussy by our host. He was naked too.

I ended up getting dared to let our host’s dog eat a spoonful of peanut butter out of me. I agreed, but only because I had already used up all of my “passes” on the dares. I ended up bent over an ottoman, my wrists and knees tied to the legs, while our host took a huge spoonful and stuffed me with peanuty goodness.


I squealed when the dog began licking me, his rough tongue hitting my clit and worming its way into my pussy. But it wasn’t long before I became excited. It was this day when I realized the truth about being a nympho humiliation pain slut. It’s not about whether I like something or not. After the peanut butter was gone a blanket was thrown over my back and the next thing I knew something not human was pushing its way into my pussy. I objected. I said no. I pulled on the ropes tying me down, but Kari just let it happen anyway. That German Shepherd stuck his bulbous cock into my pussy and humped me so fast and so hard that I ended up screaming out in pleasure and orgasm, totally mind fucked by the endorphins and adrenaline and the mental agony of being screwed by a dog. It took about a minute for the “bulb” on the dog’s cock to shrink enough for him to pull out, but by then I was just a blubbering mass of screwed girl whose eyes were glazed over in sexual bliss.

I have a few hard limits. Blood, scat, pee, children (um mostly), anything that will send me to jail, that sort of stuff. I’ve been asked why “fucking dogs” isn’t on that list. It should be, I know. But it still comes down to that question. Do I like having sex with dogs? Hell no. Fuck no. No way.

Do I cum?

Oh God yes.

The rest of Doghouse is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM blog but can be read in Breanne Erickson's amazing e-book novel "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 3!" from and! Check it out today and find out just what happened.

"Great erotica. Breanne is this down to earth girl with a sense of humor and this incredible way of describing things. It's really amazing. Loved it." - Amazon Reviewer

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