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Puppy
No matter how many times Ivy explained it to me, I still had trouble buying the idea of a “bred puppyslave” as anything other than coercion, and I continued to strongly consider simply buying a regular doggieslave. However, after many arguments she convinced him to at least go and meet with one. She told him there was an elderly widower named Bruce Gabriel who had raised one about eighty miles from my home, and I agreed to go and meet with him. Her name was, for the moment, Kia Lee.
Officially, the girl wasn’t a slave yet, and the selling of bred puppyslaves was different from most slaves. Even if they lived as humans and their parents did not, having grown up in a household with a doggieslave, and the looser expectations of what a doggieslave was to do compared to other types of slaves (mostly just bark instead of talk, go on all fours, and be comforting), it was assumed that a bred puppyslave would have some idea of the expectations on him or her. So, instead of being sold to trainers, bred puppyslaves were auctioned directly to owners, and started living with them immediately, but were required to go to a trainer over the weekends until judged fully integrated as a slave (a process that usually took no more than a month). I contacted Bruce, and asked if we could meet him in four days time. Between trying to integrate myself into my parent’s company, and fucking Jill several times a day, I was extremely busy (although I left the latter factor out), but he said that he was preparing to close the auction in three days time, and the bidding already appeared to have capped out with a man from West Palm Beach. I immediately offered to pay him one quarter of what the man had bid in exchange for simply delaying a day, and promised that if I chose to buy Kia I would pay double his price, in addition to the fee for the delay. Bruce asked for a few minutes to “consult with Kia,” and came back to announce that they had decided it was worth the risk of alienating the current buyer.
So, sometime around noon on a Thursday we pulled up to Bruce’s house. He lived in a suburb, clearly an unusual place to find…well, anyone who had the money to buy a slave. But, he supposed the old man liked his living simple. This time I hadn’t bothered to bring anyone other than Ivy, now dressed in Princess Leia’s slave bikini, with me, feeling ashamed I was even doing this, and almost certain that I wouldn’t be buying this girl.
The limo parked, and they climbed out. An old but surprisingly spry man, with a beard that made him look like a chubbier version of Colonel Sanders, waved us in through the front porch. We entered, and found a table set with a pitcher of fresh-brewed coffee. They all sat down, and began talking.
“So, Bruce, if I understand this right, Kia’s the daughter of you’re doggiegirl and someone else’s doggieboy?”
“That’s right,” said Bruce. “Normally when they do that, they breed them twice and split the pups, but with us we only did it once. We paid the other guy to just leave. Didn’t want to poor little Beijing through that again.”
“Beijing?” I asked, confused.
“Oh yeah, that’s what we decided to name her mother. Her real name is somethinIcantpronounce Lee, but we felt like dogs don’t have full names. She’s Korean, you see, and we thought it was best that dogs not have human names either, so we decided to name her something for her homeland.” I decided that if “Beijing” could have gone the past eighteen years and nine months (and however long before that) without telling them that Beijing was in China and not Korea, I could avoid saying it during this hour-long meeting. “So, anyway,” he continued, “my wife, Wilda, was never able to have a baby, so we decided to have Beijing un-neutered, and get her pregnant. Wilda was never fond of the idea of me being the one. Sure, fucking her was fine, but actually getting her pregnant? That was something else. So, we decided to have her breed with another doggieslave. We were already getting kinda old, and figured a rambunctious kid would be too much for us. But, a docile one? That we could deal with. Now, I’d be lying if I said the thought of a puppy breeder fee didn’t cross our minds, it did, but only if that was what she wanted. So, it wasn’t the main reason. And as she got older, we got to liking the idea even less. I tried to convince her to go to college, or at least try it for a semester first, but no. She was 18; she wanted to be a dog.”
He whistled and a naked Asian woman in her mid-to-late-30s I could only presume to be Beijing crawled in. Bruce gave her a hand signal, and she crawled under the table, unzipped his pants, whipped out his cock, and began sucking him without a moment’s hesitation. He continued as if nothing had happened. “But, I supposed you’re not convinced I didn’t influence her.”
I decided to be honest. “No, I’m really not.”
He smiled. “Maybe you’d like to meet her yourself? I’m pretty sure she could convince you.”
“So call her.”
“I don’t have to. She has amazing ears, and I assure you, once you say you want to meet her and not before that, she’ll take it as an order to come down.”
“An order?”
He shook his head, as if annoyed. “Yeah, she takes everything as an order. When I tried to convince her to try college, it took me a week to get her to not just do it because I ‘ordered’ it. She got great grades because I always ‘ordered’ her to study when she got home every night, and she wouldn’t stop until I ‘ordered’ her to go to eat or go to bed. I had to ‘order’ her to make friends and go out to have fun on the weekends.”
I sighed for a moment, and then said “Ok, I want to meet her.”
A moment later a girl stepped through the hall door into the room. She appeared to be half-asian, with less slanted eyes and slightly wavy, but still pitch-black, hair. Her skin was a bit lighter than her mother’s, but she was still quite skinny, and of slightly above average height. She smiled widely, her hands crossed in front of her, and bowed. She was dressed in a pink sundress, and as far as I could tell had no bra under it. I doubted she had panties either.
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to do that, I haven’t bought you yet.”
She looked disappointed, but let her hands drop to her sides. Then, she seemed to awkwardly force herself to speak to me casually. “Y-you’re Ryan Dalbloom, right?” I could tell she wanted to call me “master” and await orders.
Bruce had begun to gasp in the meantime, and finally let out a final huff as he exploded into Beijing’s mouth. Being a good doggieslave, she sucked him clean, withdrew her mouth, and zipped him back up. She then crawled back into the hall, Kia moving slightly to let her past.
“Why don’t you two go out and talk alone,” said Bruce. I could tell that he was both trying to break the tension, and give her a chance to convince me she wasn’t being coerced. I also thought I saw him eyeing Ivy from across the table. The Leia bikini was definitely doing its job. For her part, Ivy actually looked flattered. I could imagine she might agree to be enslaved to him next, betting on his heart failing soon and her getting the full payout.
I nodded my consent, and she led me through the hall to the backyard. It was fenced in, surrounded by tall hedges, and the yard was covered in chewed-up chew toys. I also saw a doghouse with a two-in-one food and water bowl labeled “Beijing” in front of it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Kia. “You’re thinking that dad is trying to force this on me. Well, that’s not true. You can’t imagine how not true that is. Ever since I was a little girl, the only thing I’ve been able to think about is being a dog! But, as far back as I can remember, dad just wanted me to be his daughter!” She began to tear up.
“I think, maybe, in the beginning he was hoping for a bred puppygirl, but he got over it quick. I was too act human, study hard, prepare for college, everything. The worst part is I wasn’t even allowed to acknowledge my own mother. She was the family pet, I was the daughter. I was over her. You can’t imagine what it was like…being told to take her for a walk, when I felt like we should both be on the leash. But, I did as I was told.”
“I think when I was around 8, dad finally said he’d let me play with Beiji…” she hesitated for a moment, and then seemed to feel a wave of strength “…with Mom as a dog for half an hour every weekend as long as I kept my clothes on like a good human girl, and was totally human the rest of the week. He did it just because it got me to stop stripping.” She pulled uncomfortably at the sundress.
“School was always hell for me. Every time the kids went out to play, all I wanted to do was run around on all fours and fetch. They made so much fun of me. They thought I was crazy. Then there was High School,” she through back her head in an ironic laugh, stifling a sob, “I tried to date, but none of the boys were into me…well, not in that way. They all just thought ‘she’s a sub, easy lay.’ Not one of them actually took the idea of me as a dog seriously.”
“So, here I am, all laid out for you.” She dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Begging. Just begging for you…for any master or mistress…to take me…b-because if you don’t…”
“What is it?” I asked, concerned. “Weren’t you already sold?”
She bit her lip, and then continued. “Yes, but…not to a real owner, to a showdog trainer. You see…it’s…Bruce didn’t believe in it, but I made him agree to it. Dogs don’t get to choose their owners; it’s whoever pays the most. They want me, but they don’t want a pet. They want a showdog. I’d rarely be allowed to play, or run around outside…and I’d almost never be used for my owner’s pleasure, they wouldn’t want to risk “spoiling” me.”
I leaned down, and pulled her head so that she looked at me. Already, I thought I’d made my decision. And it wasn’t the one I’d expected. “Let’s see you run.” And I released her head.
Like a bolt she took off on all fours, happily barking her way all around the yard. She ran in circles, her sun-dress kept jumping up to reveal her ass and pussy. I was already imagining a roman numeral two on that lovely rump of hers.
I looked around, and a moment later found a chewed up rope toy lying on the ground. I picked it up, and yelled “Here girl, fetch.” I threw it, and she bolted after it, and ran back, dumping it at my feet, and sat on her haunches awaiting the next throw.
I looked down at her as I picked up the toy, shaking my head in mock disapproval. “Now, girl, I don’t think puppies are supposed to wear clothes.”
Like a flash, she backed out of the sun dress, and barked gleefully. She was smiling, thrilled at the prospect of being completely dog.
I threw the toy a few more times, letting her fetch it each time. Within a few minutes after that, the contract was signed.
Interlude 2
Processing Kia took a bit longer than processing Jill had. She still had to be fixed; chipped, dipped (I was amazed to find that she had simply been perfectly shaved the day we met). But, within three days, the delivery truck showed up, and a large man in a shirt marked “slave delivery” asked me to sign a receipt, and handed me the silver chain leash to Kia’s gold collar. She was smiling brightly, and seemed to be full of energy. I figured I could wear her out with fetch soon enough, but it wasn’t my top priority.
I led her to my bedroom, and signaled for her to climb up on the bed on all fours. I took a minute to feel her lovely rump, now marked “II” to indicate her status as my second slave. Then, I unzipped my pants and plunged into her doggie-style. She let out a yelp of pain, and I let out a sigh of joy. I couldn’t believe they’d actually managed to spay her while leaving her virgin tight. I forced myself on through, and after what seemed like years I came. Kia collapsed. She hadn’t cum, but she looked far too physically pained to really want to, so I merely turned away to see Jill standing there, holding a vacuum. Her apron wasn’t on, since it was reserved for cooking only, and she knew better than to cover her body for me. So, she just stood in the doorway, awaiting permission to vacuum the room.
I turned back to Kia, and decided it would be best to just let her lay there for now.
I leaned over her. “I think it’s time to give you a name. Kia’s a name for a human, not a dog. So, in the tradition of your mother, you’re name is now Ottawa, in honor of the capital city of the country directly to the North of the country in which you were born.” I chuckled, and Ottawa started to laugh, but seemed almost too stressed to manage it.
I turned to walk out, and nodded for Jill to go ahead and clean the room, and indicated that she was to help Ottawa recover.
Interaction 1
Jill always made the best breakfast. Part of it might be the pleasure of seeing her in that oh-so-revealing apron, but the food is undeniably amazing. Today, though, there was slightly too much of it, and I ended up leaving about half my eggs on my plate, and signaled for Jill to take them away. She laid my plate and cup next to the dishes, as she finished the bowl of fruit salad she was to eat for breakfast. On the floor at her feet, Ottawa happily chomped away at her own breakfast of “doggieslave chow.” It was actually just gruel made from a mixture of all five food groups, ground up together and died to look like dog food. Still, I had no doubt that was unappetizing, and it was one of the few things about being a puppygirl that Ottawa had admitted under questioning to hating. She seemed to like the experience of eating from a bowl on the floor, though, almost enough to make up for it.
I turned my head away for a brief second, and when I turned it back I caught a glimpse of Jill slipping the last of my eggs into Ottawa’s dish before beginning the washing. It had seemed strange that Jill suddenly lost her once-perfect ability to predict exactly how much to feed me and now I understood why. I considered flogging them both, or just Jill, but instead I smiled and pretended not to see. As long as Ottawa didn’t gain weight, I supposed I could tolerate it. If she did, though…several possible punishments ran through my head all at once.
I had expected the opportunity to sleep in my bed each night to entice the girls into rivalry, and it certainly had. At the same time, though, I had been afraid that the rivalry might turn into bitterness between my slaves. Instead, the opposite had happened. While friendly rivals, the girls seemed to love each other, and wish to live together in harmony serving me. Nothing could be better.
“Jill,” I called, and she went stiff, turning to face me. “Pull out that chair.” I indicated a chair across from me at the kitchen table. Jill promptly obeyed, appearing nervous but willing.
“Sit,” I said, and she complied. “Hands on thighs, spread your legs,” and I was once again obeyed.
I turned my head to Ottawa now, looking up from her now clean dish. “Ottawa, I think our…play yesterday left Jill here a bit…unsatisfied. Perhaps we can see what that tongue of yours can do.”
Ottawa let out a yelp of joy, and scampered halfway to Jill, falling on her face twice, and then slowing her pace so she could move safely on the linoleum. As soon as she reached Jill, she promptly began lapping away at her pussy. Jill knew better than to move a muscle below her neck, but couldn’t avoid letting her head drop to the side as she let out sighs of ecstasy.
I looked on at my slaves, contented, and something began to dawn on me. I no longer wanted nor needed Ivy…well, not for my pleasure anyway. She had tried to exploit my fascination with her, and use my sexual desires to her advantage…well; two more slaves and something could be done about her. I smiled. Oh, she’d get her money all right. But I intended to make damn sure it wasn’t worth it.
To be continued…
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