The puppy began to whimper and I repeated the process of chaining her to the stationary post. She scurried to the bathroom and returned with a roll of toilet paper. I looked at her with evident confusion as she disappeared into the bathroom again and returned with a bottle of lubricant. After a third trip, she returned with a box of nitrile gloves.
After dropping the final item at my feet she crawled to the bathroom. The pup rested in front of the toilet and wagged her tail back and forth.
I hung my head as I thought about my fee. I picked up the items and I followed her into the water closet. I put the gloves on my hands and I laid down some wet wipes from the amenities basket. I took a firm hold at the base of her tail and slowly rotated her butt-plug back and forth as I eased the metallic plug out of the threshold of her rectum.
She panted and her tongue wagged during this process. I laid the tail gently on the tiles and carefully placed the plug onto the preset wipes. The pup climbed onto the toiled seat and faced the wall. I began to clean her plug at the vanity with soap and water. In an attempt to forget what was occurring at the time, I spoke to my reflection in the mirror.
I said, “A lust letter. Jordan, I do not understand these women.”
My reflection answered, “You’re preaching to the choir. I think that they don’t give two fucks about us, dude. They just like seeing us squirm.”
I agreed with myself, “Yup. How many times did we do that romantic shit?”
My reflection answered, “Too many.”
I asked, “And how many times were we either humiliated or marked as a person of interest by frumpy bitches?”
I shook my head and said, “Every time.”
My reflection continued, “And being a complete dick – gets us laid even when we don’t want the chick.”
I shook my head again, “Yup. So, should I be a dick to Stephanie or should I write the letter?”
My reflection said, “It’s a numbers game. This is Bayesian statistics at its finest. If you bomb every fucking time with the romance, then be a dick.”
I frowned with confusion and said, “But she promised that she would hang out with me if I write it.”
“C’mon, man. Her promise doesn’t entitle you to get laid. Even if you write it – which she is going to show all of her friends and humiliate you – she still might not open up the hot box,” argued my reflection. “The answer is to be a dick. Piss on the letter and flush it.”
The puppy slapped herself onto the bathroom tiles and wagged her beautiful butt in my direction. My reflection dropped below the back splash of the vanity mirror as I grabbed the packet of wet wipes which were lying on the floor. As I cleaned up the pup, I spoke to her, “What do you think, pup. Should I write her a lust letter or should I move along?”
The pup arched her back and squeezed her buttocks as I wiped her ass hole. I threw the first wipe into the toilet. As I cleaned her with a fresh moist disposable, she spread her hind legs and pushed her body toward my gloved fingers. With difficulty I pulled the towel from between her clenched butt muscles. The third wipe was even harder. I flushed the wipes and I reached for the lube.
The pup was clenching her hole shut and releasing as if it were a hungry mouth ready to suckle at a nipple. Fuck all, I thought. This erection of mine is growing quickly.
I stifled my emotion and I wiped the smooth metal of her butt plug with a wash cloth. I put on a new set of gloves and I wiped a dollop of lubrication on the metal. I then slowly eased the base of her tail back into her rectum as she made subtle noises of pleasure. Finally I patted her on her head and I exited the washroom.
She dropped a squeeze toy at my feet and we played fetch around the suite. I resumed my musings about Stephanie to which neither the pup nor my reflection replied. When the pup became tired, We both cuddled on the couch as I watched television. I fell asleep. When I awoke from slumber, Brent was standing in between me, the pup and the television.
There was an envelope on the coffee table in front of me. He asked, “How did it go today?”
Sleepily, I replied, “She’s still a pup. I don’t think she’s faking it.”
Carla woke up and yelped happily at the sight of her husband. She crawled off of the couch and pounced at him with her paws resting on his abdomen. Her knees rested comfortably on the carpet.
He looked at the envelope and in turn I pocketed it. Brent said, “See you at 6:45 tomorrow. Bright and early.”
I answered, “Yes, sir.”
The rest of the day was a blur. I was exhausted as I drove home. I tossed and turned all night as I tried to make sense of my new gig. I wondered if this was a situation that I could walk away from if it went sour. My fatigued head ran a marathon despite my weariness.
Day 2
Brent was all smiles as I entered the room. I think that he was relieved that I didn’t flake out. We shook hands and he said, “She’s still asleep. Around eleven or so, she’ll wake up.”
Good, I thought. I need some sleep. Brent reminded me, “If you two fuck,” he said bluntly, “wear a condom. None of that pulling out and hoping shit, okay? We’re not in the breeding phase of our relationship.”
His apathy about infidelity was strange to me, but I’ve seen all types so I wasted no mental energy on it. I answered, “Her wish is my command, er…I guess. I mean I’m not trying to fuck her. I’m a professional.”
Brent smirked and said, “Just go with the flow. I’m just glad that she’s not going to be roaming the hallways.” Confidently he left the suite to attend to business. I plopped myself on the couch and prepared to nap like a couch potato when the puppy started to yelp.
Damnit! I thought. It is nowhere near eleven o’clock. With frustration I opened her cage and chained her to the post. I checked her dog bowl and refreshed it with the vegan salad which had been prepared for her. I emptied a bottle of water into her other bowl and I fell asleep on the couch. Today I listened to J-pop as I drifted from consciousness.
The pup roamed around the room as I faded away. I felt a tongue on my earlobe. Dreamily, I opened my eyes. Stephanie looked at me with a smile. She was wearing a ridiculous pink wig. Her eyes were painted in an Egyptian style. Her lips were covered in balm. She had thigh high stockings on her legs. Her flesh was exposed between her leg wear and her pleated plaid skirt. Her exposed bra was blue, grey and green plaid as well.
I asked her, “Should I write you a letter, or should I ignore you?”
She kissed my neck and answered, “Mooshi shin ayde.” Stephanie rubbed her open palm above my zipper and searched my facial expression. I resigned and closed my eyes to enjoy my own pleasure.
Invisible hands unbuckled my belt. The sound of my zipper being opened played against the Japanese song. I asked her, “How did you find me? How did you get in here?”
She answered, “Watashy ny tegamy o kayty kudasay.”
She pulled my penis from my garments and licked my frenulum as though she were a virgin. My disappointment was quickly assuaged when she gripped my testicles and began to pop my scrotum in and out of her mouth as though eating a lollipop like a savage.
My eyes were still closed. I heard and felt her kneel between my open legs and pull my pants below my butt cheeks. “Speak English,” I asked her.
She answered, “Dooshyte?” Then she gripped my cock with a full palm and pulled up and down patiently. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was maintaining eye contact with me. I reached out and gripped her pig tails with both my hands and commanded, “Taste that.”
She complied. Her head bobbed up and down. Her tongue conformed to the underside of my cock. I felt a unique joy whenever she fought her gag reflex as her epiglottis head rammed against my head. Her muted voice entered my ears and I fought myself. Please don’t cum yet, I implored of my body.
Ms. Vyce grabbed me by my throat and said, “Get your head out of your ass! You’re a professional.” I looked at the ceiling as my nemesis disappeared into my own ecstasy.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6qlzgi/deerplain_donna_12