Please remember that this story is fantasy.  Do not try to do this at home.  I wonder where he gets these ideas!?????

Shari Dog Sits

  “That was fantastic,” Shari said, as I lifted my mouth from her cunt. “What a great way to start a day. And it is going to be a great day, though you might not think so!”, she said.

 I always shudder when she says that, but cause she is always right. My ass was still sore from the pounding my mistress had given me last night, and my cock was still bound in the chastity belt that I am made to wear. But my love for this beautiful and powerful woman makes me more than willing to put up with the pain she likes to inflict. The fact is, I like the pain too. Knowing that I was not to ask her to release my arms from the restraints that held my elbows together, I waited patently as she slid off the bed. As I waited for her I laid my head on the bed to relax the muscles in my neck. Seeing that she stoked my ass and said, “relax while you can love. Today I am going to try something new.” With that she dug her nails into my ass, making me scream. I grabbed a fold of the sheet in my teeth to help bear the pain, but nothing could keep my ass and legs from twitching under her assault. By stifling my cries I got to hear the sigh my love makes when one of her acts stimulates her clit. I knew that she was getting wet, and thought that she might climb back on the bed for me to begin again. Instead she just laughed, and swatted my ass.

 “Not now,” Shari said. “We have things to do.” She released my arms and legs, and told me, “get washed quickly. I want you done in 3 minutes so that you can draw my bath.”

 I knew better than to delay, so I hopped to, literally; my arms and legs were stiff from the restraints. When she walked into the bathroom less than 5 minutes later I was there, on my knees, holding soap in my mouth and a washcloth in one hand and a loofa sponge in the other.  

Bath time is one of my favorite times of the day, and weekends were best because of the leisurely way in which Shari lets me serve her. An hour later I was drying her off with a fluffy bath towel, kissing and licking the small drops of water from her crotch.

 “Get breakfast,” she said. “But none for you. You can have some coffee, but I think you will want your stomach empty today. Pam is coming over, and she is bringing something I want to use on you.”  

Now THAT scared me. Usually my pain tolerance is high enough that she does not worry WHAT she does to me. And Pam is the only woman who I am actually terrified of. The day Shari introduced her to me I immediately got off on the wrong foot by not kissing it: My mistress requires me to kneel and kiss the feet of her other dominate friends, but looking at Pam’s girl-next-door face and broad smile, I did not realize that she was also a dominate. Pam was still smiling as she kicked me in the nuts to double me over, but there was no mistaking the steel in her voice as she twisted my arm behind me and proceeded, one by one, to dislocate the fingers on my left hand. Her tying me up so that she could snap them back into place was NOT the most painful thing that she did to me that day, and ever since I have been terrified I might do something wrong in her presence. Not that it helped; every time I saw Pam it was like getting a visit from a demon from hell. Sheri knows this, and more than once had gotten me to do things I though I could not do by threatening to call Pam to come over.

 I saw Sheri smiling at me as I reacted to her statement, and could tell that she was not going to tell me more, and I did not dare ask. Breakfast was perfect: Eggs Benedict, fresh squeezed juice, toast and coffee. Frankly, I was trying to remind her how much she would miss me if the two of them killed me.

 I spent the next two hours cleaning up, and nearly shaking with fear. I could hear Shari giggling each time she looked at me, enjoying my obvious terror. And I damn near peed on the floor when I heard a car pull into our driveway. I kneeled as Sheri went to the door, and heard it open, then was surprised when I heard her squeal like a child, making cooing sounds.

 “Thanks for watching him for me. I really need to go on this trip, and I hate to leave him locked up all the time,” heard Pam say.

 “No problem. This will be fun. Are you certain I can use him the way you said?”

 “As advertized. You can give me a report when I get back, but you won’t have any problems. Just use the commands I gave you, and have lots of fun.”

 “Great!,” I heard my mistress say. “Do you have time to come in and scare the shit out of slaveboy?” (I think she meant that literally.)

 “I wish I did,” Pam said. “I will catch you both when I get back. Thanks again.”

 I heard the door close, and a chain rattle as she walked toward me. Lifting my head I expected to see Pam’s sub on his hands and knees; instead I saw a poodle. And though he wagged his tail and bounced about when he looked at my mistress, each time he glanced at me he froze and gave me a “look”.

 “Meet curly,” my mistress said. “He is a purebred miniature, with needle sharp teeth. I wanted you to meet him today.”

 The comment about the teeth was obviously meant to give me a clue, but it left me behind. Having a dog chase me around the house biting me may have been something Shari wanted to try, but it did not seem like her, and certainly was nothing nearly as bad as our weekly games.

 “Get on the table,” she said.

 My stomach sank, and I began to get an idea. The “table” is a solid wood coffee table I had build. It fits our living room decor of rough wood and wrought iron (which has uses only some of our friends know about), and is the centerpiece of many of our weekend games. Big, solid, with many different uses, it had been my place of residence for many hours, and one horrible three-day weekend.

 “Lay down,” Shari said, but by then I had guessed how she planned to use it, and how she might have a use for the dog. I know I was shaking when I lowered myself onto the top of the table, guiding my cock and balls through the knot hole in the middle of the table. Shari slid the metal strip that trapped my cock and balls to the table. Her tying my hands and feet to the table at this point was more to keep me from thrashing about than to keep me from getting away; I cannot reach the metal restraint from the top, and it makes an effect trap as is. As she pulled a strap around my waist to hold my close to the table she said, “This will keep you from castrating yourself.” All the while the dog just watched.

 Walking in front of me, Shari knelt down and lifted my head. “You knew there would be a penalty for complaining about my blow job. This is it.”

 I whimpered, remembering how I had begged her to stop that night. She had promised me the longest, best blow job she could manage, and delivered her promise. I should have known that Sheri, my mistress-lover, would alternate the pleasure of her mouth and tongue with biting and scraping with her teeth. I could tell that she was angry at my cries, but assumed that the punishment was the blowjob itself. Now I knew better.

 Still holding my head, she kissed me and explained, “Curley was trained by Pam to bite dicks. Apparently he takes direction very well. Or is that “dick-tation”? Anyway, I am going to use him to give you a few love bites. Now you will have a reason to scream.”

 She kissed me again, ignoring both my whimpers and the tears that began to flow. Picking up the dog, she set it under the table. I felt its tongue flick my cock, and I screamed and jerked; without the restraints I would have castrated myself trying to get away. Shari giggled, and grabbed my cock. I heard her say, “Curley, CHEW!”

 My scream must have startled the dog, because he let go of my dick and barked at me. But just once. None of my screams from that point had any effect as he bit, and pulled on my dick with his teeth. Periodically Shari would calm the dog down, slowing down its progress as it worked itself into a frenzy.     

I could tell Sheri was getting hot. She was making the moaning sounds she makes as she gets close to cuming, though at the time I was more concerned about the pain in my dick. Suddenly I heard her scream “Fuck YES!” She pulled the dog back, and said, “God, that was good. Lets take a look at you!

 My cries and screams had long since made me too hoarse to respond, or even make much noise as Sheri began to wipe my cock down with soapy water. “Nice,” she said, “but I think I need to put something on that.”

 I was wrong, thinking that I could not scream anymore. The alcohol on my torn and chewed cock felt like liquid fire, and Sheri’s laughter made me cry with shame and humiliation as the pain began to fade. Bending down, she tilted my head up and kissed me again. “Let this be a lesson. Your last one. I won’t tolerate your failing to do what I say. Do you understand?”

 “Yes! Mistress. Please...”

 “Shush,” she said. “I...” she began to say, but was interrupted by the doorbell. Kissing me quickly, she said, “wait here!”

 I expected Sheri to either not answer the door, or go outside to answer it, but she surprised me again by opening it wide, after looking through the window to see who it was. Then I understood. One of our neighbors has a daughter, Donna, just back from school, that Shari and I both felt was a closet Dom. She knew what we were into, offering only mild interest while encouraging us to keep playing, but had never asked to be included. I knew that Sheri was waiting for some opportunity to show her our other lives.

 “I have the things you ordered from Karen,” Donna said. Karen is Donna’s sister, and a girl scout. “I though I would bring them over and.....”

 Her voice trailed off as she saw me tied to the table. Obviously, she did not know what to say.

 “Does that shock you?,” Shari asked.

 “His cock is bitten,” she said, stating the obvious.

 “I know. My friend’s dog was chewing on it. I was punishing him. Do you think that is wrong?”

 Donna shrugged. “You guys can do what you want. Personally, I don’t care if you let the dog bite it off.”

 Something in the way Donna said it sounded like a challenge. Shari smiled, and I began to cry again.

 “Curly, come here!” my mistress said. With out another word she picked up the dog, and set it under the table again. This time the dog did not wait for a command, or react to my screams.

 I know I lost track of time. The dog continued to bite and chew my cock, long after I could only make small rasping sounds. It must have been a grand show, because there were several points where Donna’s calm demeanor was replaced by laughter and shouted encouragement to both the dog and me. Several times I must have passed out, only to be revived by the pain in my cock, and once by cold water being splashed on my face. I am certain that Donna was sexually gratified by the experience, though I am not sure, nor did either one ever tell me if the took the opportunity to gratify each other.

 I also remember Donna stroking my head telling me how proud she was of my ability to endure this, and how lucky I was to have found such a fantastic woman and mistress as Shari. Then SHE kissed me, and told me that Shari promised to lend me to her on occasion until Donna could find someone like me.

 The rest of the weekend was, by comparison, event less. My cock was useless, and even I knew that it would never be repaired. And though Shari stroked me, kissed me, and told me how proud she was of me, at no point did she indicate that she was either guilty for, or even aware of my loss. Her only comment was that it was an “incomplete” castration.

 Monday I was not able to go to work, and spent the day doing the things I had been to sick to do over the weekend. Monday night Pam came back to pick up her dog. Kneeling in front of both of them, I was forced to unwrap the bandages and show what the dog had done to me.

 “I can’t stay now,” Pam said. “And your boy needs to recover a bit anyway.” Walking up to me, she tilted my head back, and looking me in the eyes, she said, “I will be over soon though. This has given me a whole new sense of your limits. Both of you.”

 Watching her leave, I began to shake. Shari just laughed. 

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