Puppy Treats

It’s been a while since I’ve got to play the puppy. It’s an unusual kink for me, because it’s largely asexual, and almost entirely role play.

Perrin started the evening, putting me in my pink collar. He then ordered me to stand on tiptoes, which I did, albeit with a fair quantity of wobbling. Then he asked me to take off my jumper.

It sounds simple enough, but I failed to manage both at once. I tried to excuse my failure, but saw trouble ahead instantly.

“Go upstairs and take all your clothes off” he ordered, “when you come back I’m going to punish you”. I went, with a sense of trepidation, and did as I was commanded.

As I returned, his hand reached out to grab me.

“Not a word” he warned.

“You probably expect I’m going to beat you” he said coldly. I trembled, that was exactly what I’d expected.

“But you don’t hit bad puppies, you ignore them” he continued, as he sat me on the floor and fastened my leash to my collar, tying me to the table leg. I curled up slightly, absorbing my role while he pottered around me.

Perrin began to do the washing up, and I watched him with sad puppy dog eyes. Still, I knew attempting to escape or otherwise seeking attention would just earn me further disapproval.

I puzzled over my own acceptance, naked, chained and silent. Recognising the puppy equivalent of corner time, I sat patiently waiting for his attention.

Finally he turned and came over to me.

“Good, quiet puppy” he told me, and I nuzzled against his leg with delight, as he patted my head gently.

He fetched me a treat then; a morsel of smoked ham, and fed it to me.

He continued washing up and making dinner, and I sat, an adoring puppy as he began to tell me about his day. I nodded vigorously with delight as he shared his thoughts with me. I was unable to join in or comment, instead I listened, and smiled. I was rewarded with another delicious treat, and pats of approval.

Until dinner time I was his puppy. Obedient, joyful, and loved. I certainly enjoyed the treats he fed me, but the biggest treat of all was to sit at his feet and listen to him talk.

Inner Voices

I’ve been thinking a lot about our puppy play last week.
I really enjoyed it, and although it didn’t consciously feel sexy it certainly turned me on, but what’s really on my mind is, well, what was on my mind.

I started off feeling very awkward. One minute I’m doing what I want, and the next I’m expected to kneel down at Perrin’s feet. This is the bit where I want to run away, and say that this is a really silly idea, but there’s no backing out now, so I kneel down obediently.

So (as usual) then, there’s the voice in my head that asks why an independent and capable woman (really I am) is letting some man order her around.
“Because I want to. Go away.”
“And don’t you think you look ridiculous, a woman of your age”, what a hateful phrase that is, “crawling about naked on the floor”.
“Well yes I probably do, but I’m not looking at me”, I’m also not looking at Perrin either. I want to believe I’m sexy like this, but I expect that ridiculous is closer to the mark, and I don’t want to see the look in Perrin’s eyes telling me I’m right.
I’m honestly trying to be a good puppy, but I’ve not got much to go on. Talking is probably not really in character, but he’s not asked me to be silent either, so I end up saying ‘Yes Sir’ to orders but trying not to say anything else.
That of course, gives my inner observer ample opportunity to comment on what’s going on.
“Drinking out of a bowl, what do you look like?”
You see how it goes…
Finally of course, I get deep enough for the voice to fade away, and I can just feel, but I wish it wasn’t so hard to get there…

I’ve always tended to commentate on my own experiences. Even to the point of commentating on my commentating on my own experiences (yes, that is as confusing as it sounds). Sometimes that’s a positive experience, but mostly the voice in my head is a critical one.
I know where in the past those voices come from, but that knowledge isn’t enough to quiet them, and they’re always waiting to torment me.

So, Perrin sent me a (kinky) porn clip to watch recently. I loved it. It was hot, and there were others on the site too, which I loved as well. Anyway, he asked me what I found most sexy about it.
It was then, I realised. In the clip the master is talking the whole time. Instructing, urging, praising, reassuring. The submissive is focused on him. His voice is the commentary to her experience, not her own, and it is a positive one.

Perrin however tends to be silent when we play, and that gives me a silence which I cannot help but fill, as I am filling it now, with thoughts which make me unhappy.

“Stop, stop, stop”.

Pet Play

We’ve been so busy recently that this writing this post got delayed, but it was too much fun not to mention.

So Perrin and I had a quiet Friday evening, and we agreed that we wanted to spend it playing.

It started innocently enough with a trip to the supermarket to pick up supplies for dinner and our play. I was nervous about what Perrin had planned, and he put me out of my misery enough to let me know he planned for me to be a pet for the first part of the evening. I became increasingly confused as we went round the supermarket, although we picked up things for dinner; mainly steak and red wine, there was nothing that gave me any clue to the evening ahead.

When we got home, Perrin ordered me to get naked and fetch my collar and leash.  Once he had collared me, he ordered me onto my knees and told me I wasn’t to stand up again. Then he took me for a walk round the house.  I followed him on all fours, as closely as I could, but we have hard floors and it was a struggle.

I was struck by the fact that I knew I hadn’t wanted pain play this evening, but somehow still had to endure the pain in my knees.  He walked me into the kitchen and then ‘fastened’ my leash to a chair while he started on dinner. Then he started muttering.

“Poor thing, you must be thirsty”

He filled a bowl with water and put it on the floor for me to drink.

I struggled with this. Clearly (although nothing was said) using my hands was not an option, but I couldn’t help worry that I’d look silly.  However, (although nothing was said) I’d figured that talking wasn’t really on either (apart from the occasional ‘yes Sir’),  so I had to work through this struggle in my head.  Usually I’d be talking back to cover my awkwardness. Eventually I gave up, and buried my face in the bowl. I got water up my nose, but at least managed to drink it all, and I hoped, come out of it with some cute wet puppy charm.

I must have done ok, because Perrin gave me a ‘doggy treat’ – a piece of raw steak. After the first shock, it tasted delicious. I like my steak rare anyway, but I think that’s the first time I’ve eaten it cold.

Then we were off for another walk around the house. We went and looked out of the window, where my Master peered out of the window and expressed regret that it was too wet to go outside.

I looked pitiful and made sad puppy noises (yes, the rational part of me knew that was a mistake).

So off we went to the garden, and I was taken for a little walk in the rain. The decking was hard on my knees and almost as cold as snow, but the grass was much softer, and warmer.

I was getting comfortable with my puppy self now, and tracked happily back to the kitchen, where I was given another bowl of water. This time I approached it with eagerness, feeling completely comfortable lapping at the water (it still got up my nose).

Perrin was getting on with making dinner, and I realised that he had forgotten to fasten my leash to the chair. I felt the need to do something about this, and considered making a break out of the kitchen, but I didn’t want to be a bad puppy, so instead I went and nuzzled my puppy head against his legs. He stroked my fur, and told me I was a good puppy. Heaven.

‘I want to do non-puppy things to you’ he said suddenly.

I was suddenly aware how wet I was, although I’d not been aware of being turned on at all. I nuzzled at his crotch obediently, and was rewarded with his cock to suck. Before I’d really had enough, he moved round behind me, to take me doggy fashion.

Before either of us had come though, he decided to stop so he could finish dinner, when I got to be human again, and the night was still in no way over.