Human Puppy Licks Up the Mess
On her eighteen-birthday Misty tied up and spanked her boyfriend. It was their last date. No longer interested in vanilla men, she never missed him.
Fully embracing her dominance and sadism, she became a serial enslaver. She found submissive guys, accepted them into her life. None lasted more than four months. Once she hit all of a man’s limits, her interest waned. She wanted a new slave.
Misty delights in her life. She never washes clothes, cooks or cleans. She never asked for money. A few men begged to be her money slaves. She never had to work. Not a lazy woman, she earned a few postgraduate degrees.
She met Matt at a fetish party. He was fun to torture. His little yelps were hilarious. And Matt was genuinely servile. She invited him to become her live-in slave.
Misty warned him it would not be a permanent position. Longing to live with a Mistress, he readily accepted. Even a month as her slave would be better than more yearning and loneliness.
Misty would never fall romantically in love with a man. But she liked Matt more than any prior slave.
Still, she began to want to find a fresh dungeon plaything. Yet she did not want to lose Matt. Having two slaves would be too complicated. They would compete for attention.
She had often thought of turning a slave into a human pet. Matt could become her puppy dog.
He quickly accepted the offer. He smiled when Misty said she would be strict. She shook her head. She was not talking about punishment. If she puppified Matt, he would have to live by the rules. He could not stand. Nor sit on people furniture. He could not talk.
If he wanted something he must beg like a dog on his hind legs, paws raised.
Matt could only pee when she felt like taking him outside. (The backyard has a high privacy fence.)
While he would often lick her boots, much of the time, he would live in his cage.
Matt begged to be Misty’s puppy. She gave him a puppy name. It was obvious.
Mutt. Matt was now Mutt.
He plays fetch. In the evenings, if Mistress Owner is home, he curls up at her feet.
He Often is alone. Joy in being a woman’s property, all the boot worship, more than compensates for lonely hours.
Like all her slaves, Mutt wears a chastity device. And butt plugs. Watching the pink plug wobble always makes Misty laugh.
One evening she manipulated a plug. She massaged his prostate. He did not feel it but Mutt ejaculated. He almost hit his food bowl.
Misty covered the bowl with the sole of her boot.
Mutt must lick his mess from the floor. Or she would take the bowl away.
He hesitated. Whimpered.
He was too hungry for pride. Mutt licked the floor clean. Nothing Misty did ever shamed him so much.
Of course, he worshiped her even more deeply.