Work Text:
You know, you sometimes wonder how you got to this point in your life.
Specifically this very moment, with a leather collar buckled around your neck, a puppy ear headband tucked neatly in your hair, and a butt plug with a tail protruding from it nestled tightly into your asshole. The collar had your name engraved into it, and the white faux fur of the tail and ears were both spotted and speckled with a color custom-dyed to perfectly match that of your hair. The only normal thing about this ensemble was the white lingerie, which almost felt like a testament to the non-vanilla purity you were about to lose.
Why did your boyfriend have to be such a kinky bastard? Was he even going to like how you looked, with these fake implements? How could anyone be into this (no kink-shaming intended)?
Why did you love him enough to be willing to try this out for him?
With a sigh, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror—you still don’t see the appeal—before calling out through the door, “You can come in.” As you move to sit on the edge of the bed, you drum your fingers along your thighs impatiently. The door clicks, and your eyes lock onto it as it slowly pushes open to reveal your one and only.
Oh sevens, your thighs are already squeezing together at the way his beautiful bedroom eyes bore into you. What were you saying earlier about this kink thing being unappealing?
“Mm.” Divus hums as he approaches you, taking your chin in his hand concealed in cool leather and tilting it upwards. His thumb probes your bottom lip, and when you open your mouth, he whispers, “Good girl.”
Pressing you back against the bed, he cages you beneath him as you kiss. Desire surges through you, lighting you on fire as his clothed fingers dance along your exposed skin. Teasing you with the fact that he, aside from having shed his usual luxurious faux fur coat, is fully clothed.
When your lips disconnect, his hands find the space between your dog ears and scratch your scalp. You lean into his touch. “You make such a pretty little bitch,” he whispers, and more shuddering arousal pools between your legs. “But I would be a fool to assume you intend to be obedient tonight, hm?”
You smile impishly; guilty as charged. He chuckles, one final display of affability before you both slip into character. “No matter. As always, by the time I’m done with you, the only word you’ll be able to say is ‘Master’.”
“Better get on with it, then,” you provoke, wrapping your legs around his waist and rolling your hips up against him. “I’m feeling stubborn today.”
He raises an eyebrow, and you gasp as he presses the plug further into you. Another gasp escapes you as it starts vibrating inside of you and the fur of the tail whacks against your ass—is the plug simulating tail wagging? He smirks at the incredulous expression on your face, and your inhale sharply as the vibrations kick up a level.
“Let’s practice,” he says, hoisting you in his arms and repositioning you so your head lies flat against his red silk-encased pillows. “Try saying ‘master’, puppy.”
“Mm-mm,” you refuse with a coy smile, and you whine as he delivers the smack to your thigh you were craving.
“Bad girl.” Oh, does that send wetness gushing through your panties. “Try again.”
“Master,” you drawl, lacing your tone with intentional disinterest. Another smack elicits a hiss out of you, the skin of your thigh reddening. “Feeling pissy today?”
“If you don’t behave, I’ll have to muzzle you,” he warns.
It has the opposite effect as intended; your interest is now piqued. “Muzzle?”
“It’s a punishment, not a reward.” He reaches beneath the cup of your bra to take one of your nipples between his fingers, rolling the bud around his thumb until it is erect, then yanking on it. A tiny scream is torn from you at the overstimulating sensation.
“D… Doesn’t sound like a punishment,” you breathe as he gives your other nipple the same treatment, your arousal becoming more than ignorable with every swipe of his thumb. “Sounds hot.”
“I’ll make it a punishment,” he speaks lowly, and you squirm a little to try and reduce the increasingly uncomfortable sensation between your legs. The vibrations from the plug were pleasantly stimulating at first, but you need more. “I’ll give you one last chance: ‘Master’.”
After a moment of working past the stubbornness of wanting to deny him yet again, you murmur, “Master.”
The “good girl” he whispers makes it worth it, and he unclasps your bra, setting it on the nightstand next to the bed. He drags a finger along your wet panties, and your thighs reflexively clamp around his hand. When you release him, he pinches the skin, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at the same time you hiss. “Not even a second after I praise you, you disobey me. Keep your legs open.”
“It was, like, two seconds,” you retort under your breath, and you gasp as the vibrations kick up against and he slaps your cheek. “Fuck, Divus!”
“Master,” he corrects sternly.
“Master,” you echo, glaring at him defiantly.
His hands tenderly massage the spot he slapped before falling back between your legs. “You must really want that muzzle.”
You bite back a whimper as his gloved hand sneaks beneath the band and goes straight to your labia, teasing the outer folds before dipping inside and gathering up some of your slick. “I just want you to get me off.” As an afterthought, you append, “Master.”
“You’re incorrigible,” he sighs, removing his hands and bringing them to his mouth. You watch, swallowing the drool pooling in your mouth, as he deliberately licks his glove clean, eyes never leaving yours, before removing it with his teeth. He does the same with the other one, and you swear you are going feral like an 1800s man seeing a sliver of ankle. “Do you want your panties off?”
“Yes,” you respond quickly, grinding your hips against the butt plug in your desperation.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, please, Master,” you plead, and he sighs once again as you bat your eyelashes innocently. You can be the pretty picture of perfect submission when you want to be—you just don’t. “Please take them off, and I’ll be perfect for you!”
It’s not as though he can deny you when you’re behaving so well, though, so he acquiesces, sliding your panties off. You let out a shuddering breath as the cool air hits you, and your eyes follow his pretty hands hungrily as they go to his belt buckle. You crawl forward, the wagging of your fake tail matching your enthusiastic mood as you nudge against his boxer-concealed erection with your cheek, mouthing over and kissing it.
He pats your head, fingers running through your hair and brushing your bangs out of your face before exhaling contentedly. “Good girl. Just like that.” You continue to use your mouth on him, growing wetter as you feel him getting harder, and you tug on the waistband of his boxers with your teeth before looking up at him with large doe eyes.
“You want my cock?” he asks, and you nod enthusiastically. “Ask for it like a good puppy.”
“I need your cock, Master,” you say, moaning as one of his bare hands goes to cup your breast. “I’ll suck on it to make you harder, and then you can rearrange my guts. Whatever you want, Master, I’ll give it to you.”
“Good job, except for that part about me rearranging your guts,” he says, unable to hide the humor behind his knitted brow. “Not quite suitable terminology for the scene.”
“I’m injecting my personality into our roleplay,” you say, nuzzling your cheek against his stiff, clothed erection again. “Unless you like me better as a mindless bitch. I’ll be anything for you.”
“‘Mindless bitch’ is what I’ve been directing you toward, but you seem intent on avoiding it.” He pulls you back by your hair somewhat roughly, and you smirk at him. “If you were as obedient as you say, I wouldn’t have to reprimand you so much.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” He squeezes your breast tightly as his other hand works at the buttons of his shirt to remove his last article of clothing, and you deliberately moan in a way you know he will find seductive, your lidded eyes boring into his. “Ah, Master…”
The vibrations inside your asshole kick up even higher than you thought possible, this time as a reward, and you are practically drooling as he frees his erection. Your mouth is on him in an instant, bobbing up and down the length, sucking hard and licking along the shaft, jerking off with your hands what you cannot fit in your mouth.
“Ngh… That’s a good puppy,” he groans, hand tightly rooted in your hair as he guides you up and down for a few moments before pulling you off. “Turn around.”
You position yourself, ass in the air and arms propping you up on the bed. Your breath hitches as you hear him shuffle behind you, but instead of his cock stretching your entrance open as you have been desiring, his hand begins patting moisture on your thighs.
“Hey,” you complain, beginning to lower yourself but returning to your position after receiving a harsh slap on the ass. “I thought you were gonna fuck me.”
“I will. Eventually.” You whimper as his cock slowly presses into the tight space between your thighs. “You still deserve punishment for being a brat.”
He thrusts in and out of your thighs at a torturously slow pace, pulling all the way out before reinserting it as far as it can go. It irks you more and more with each passing second. He knows what he’s doing. He relishes it. He knows you’re getting worked up, and you’re not going to prove him right by reacting exactly as he expects.
Who are you kidding? Being a brat is coded into every fiber of your being. You never said you weren’t predictable.
When he pulls out, you quickly flip over onto your back before he can push it back in. As expected, he is quick to deliver a slap to your thigh. “Bad girl! Turn over.”
“I don’t wanna,” you protest, crawling forward and trailing your fingers up his dick. “I want you inside of me!”
He glowers at you, and you hardly have a second to process before he has your head shoved into the pillows and wrists tightly pinned behind you.
“Color?”
The question surprises you, but you quickly recover, craning your neck over your shoulder to grin up at him. “Green. So green.”
“And you remember how to signal to me if you want to stop when you can’t use your hands or mouth, yes?”
To demonstrate, you magically summon red, yellow, and green sparks. “Got it.”
Your heart skips a beat at the tender smile he gives you, and he presses a kiss to the back of your head before equipping his dominant demeanor. Sevens, that switch-up has got to be the sexiest thing ever.
You feel your wrists get shackled together, and you allow him to do the same with your ankles before struggling against the restraints. “No fair! This isn’t fair, Divus! I wanna touch you!”
A harsh slap to your ass. “Master,” he corrects. Another slap. “I find that this punishment is very fair.” Yet another. “Who are you to question me, puppy?” Another. “Who’s in charge?”
“Fuck off,” you scoff, and you yelp as he roughly grabs your head and secures something around your mouth—is this the fucking muzzle? You are unable to so much as part your lips at all over the ball piece stuffed into your mouth behind the innocuous, completely normal-looking dog muzzle. It’s so tightly secured. When he threatened to muzzle you earlier, you thought he meant a gag—you didn’t expect an actual muzzle.
Though it only makes this all the more hotter.
Divus flips you over onto your back, crawling over you and lightly stroking the side of your face. “There we go.” He positions himself on his knees straddled around you, taking his dick in his hands. “You’re prettier when you’re silent.”
He starts jacking himself off over you, and the only thing you can let out is stifled whimpers. Hair is falling into his eyes, lidded and staring down at you somehow simultaneously like you are the scum of the earth and the love of his life. You whine loudly at how vocal he is being considering it is not you pleasuring him—it should be you!
Without warning, he ejaculates all over your face. You quickly squeeze your eyes shut, shuddering as you hear him lightly panting above you. “Color?”
You give off green sparks, and you let out a whimpering moan as you feel his tongue on your face, lapping up his spend from you. It reminds you of a cat, which you definitely would comment on if not for the muzzle. When he finishes, you are left feeling sticky all over, and when you slowly crack open your eyes, he is glaring down at you.
“Puppy.” You nod. “You accept any form of punishment I have prepared for you, yes?” You nod again, rapid and enthusiastic. “Good.”
A sharp cry is torn out of you as he shoves two fingers into your pussy, relentlessly thrusting them in and out of you without allowing you to adjust. You feel the crest of your climax in seconds, and just as you are about to finish, he stops. His grin curves evilly at your desperate stifled cries.
“Bad pups don’t get to finish,” he simply says, flicking your nipple before pushing his fingers back inside of you at that painfully rapid pace. You convulse and writhe in prurient agony, your orgasm approaching quicker every time and being torn from you just as fast.
Somewhere along the line, tears begin streaming out of your cheeks as your mind begins fogging up. You think drool is slipping out of your lips, wetting the muzzle that is keeping you from letting out your most needy of cries.
And then his hands go behind your head, unfastening the muzzle, and you swallow hard as you await his instructions.
“Bark for me.”
“Huh?” You, despite being desperate to orgasm, have enough clarity to question the demand with bashfully flushed cheeks. “I’m not doing all that.”
“Then you won’t be finishing,” he says simply, moving his hands back from you entirely. You let out a keening whine, and he places his hand on your waist, massaging the plush skin gently. “What will it be, puppy?”
“No way you’re actually getting off on this,” you sneer, still maintaining a shred of sass despite your desperation. Before he can ask, you accompany the statement with green sparks.
“I get off on that beautifully flushed expression you take on when you’re feeling particularly ashamed,” he hums simply, pinching one of your outer lips and making you squeal. “So bark for me, or you don’t finish.”
You think hard about it. How much dignity do you have left after all this?
You really want to come.
With blazing-hot cheeks, you part your lips and let out the most timid, half-assed bark you can muster. You can see the desiring expression on his face, absolutely taken by you and relishing your discomfort. Relishing the way you squirm under his scrutiny. You pray he will have mercy on you.
Unfortunately, Divus, as anticipated, is not a just master. “Come now, puppy, you can do better than that.” His hand trails along your thigh tantalizingly before giving it a gentle squeeze that only makes you all the more desperate to get his fingers inside of you. “I know you can.”
You try again, hardly any less timid than before, and your eyes flicker between him and gazing downcast at your shamefully wet thighs. So wet from your humiliation. You feel the tears that have been welling up in your eyes begin to spill over.
And like an angel, he smiles down at you before gently threading his fingers through your mussed hair and pushing your lips against his. They are heavenly soft, as addicting as always, and you think you might cry when you feel his erection prodding at your folds below.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me today,” he murmurs sweetly in your ear, and you whimper; you haven’t, you really haven’t but he is being so good to you. He is the one who deserves the praise for putting up with your bratty attitude.
You do not bother to hold back the absolutely pornographic moan that falls from your lips when he enters you with far too much ease—you really are wet. He utters praises in your ear, and you breathe praises into his, and your stuttering breath pitches up as your long-awaited climax washes over you with such an intensity that you feel as if you have entered a new state of being.
When you come down from your high, however long it had taken you, you find your boyfriend smiling at you, the love in his eyes no longer shrouded by the provocative disdain he had equipped. He tugs you closer when he notices your eyes coming into focus on him, pressing foreheads all over every inch of skin he can, and you let him. You’re unsure if you can move your limbs, and you’re too tired to try to. The only thing you notice is the absence of the handcuffs, the plug in your ass, even the ears you were wearing. Now, it is only him and you.
“Did you enjoy it?” Divus asks after a bit of pleasantly wordless cuddling. His hand caresses your curves, stroking up and down the dip of your waist and squeezing at random intervals. The way he touches your body feels like something to be treasured. You don’t doubt that is how he sees you.
You nod, bringing your hand up to push back the loose strands of hair that had fallen into his face. “It was better than I thought it would be.” On principle, you add, “You little freak.”
It is more of a term of endearment than an insult at this point, and he chuckles as he asks, “Would you be willing to engage in this sort of roleplay more frequently?”
“Absolutely,” you answer instantly. Perhaps you should have hesitated more, but the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips is possibly the most adorably giddy expression you have seen on him. There is no chance you would change your answer even if you wanted to after seeing that beaming look. “Maybe you can be the pet next time?”
“Would you like that?” he questions with raised brows, smile never fading.
“Once I get bored of being your ‘puppy’,” you tease, nuzzling your nose against his. He huffs out a breath, and you press your lips against his in another brief kiss. “I’m glad it was you I fell for, even if you’re a little freakier than I’m used to.”
“And I’m glad I gave someone as inexperienced as you a chance,” he responds, gently patting your back to get you to release him before rolling off the bed and walking to your side to help you up. You let out a whining noise, grabbing a pillow and tugging it to your chest. “Come on. I’ve already started the bath.”
“I’m plenty experienced,” you pout, refusing his hand. “I've been with plenty of people before you. Just vanilla.”
“Dear, you shouldn’t call yourself a whore,” he jests, tugging the pillow out of your grip with an impish smirk. When he tosses it behind you and tugs you to your feet, you indignantly stick out your tongue. He remains grinning at your expense, but it is all in good fun.
He drags you to the bathroom and eases you into his large tub before joining you, allowing you to choose what pretty bubbles and soothing bath salts you want to add instead of following one of his meticulous soapy concoctions prioritizing beauty and health benefits. Your muscles relax in the warm water and his sculpted hands soothe you with a massage that draws you to the brink of tranquil torpor.
You hope the kinky bastard rewards you like this every time you entertain his perverted whims.