Pet Girl

"Regardes comment elle te domine. Tu es aux petits soins".

Nawa-kin has bound me with black cotton rope, in her usual esthetic. A harness for a brassière, my right arm twisted back, each finger entwined. My left arm folded to the shoulder, the hand free at the shoulder blade.
Inspired by the black & white vintage poodle salt & pepper shakers, I had played Doggy during dinner. Mast'Her encouraged me to pant & I begged, my paws raised, an eager look in my eyes. Ôda scratches my head to make me wag my tail or thump my leg. I practice my bark. I catch the glint of luminous perversity as one or another imagines me on a leash, à quatre pattes.
So now it's dessert — chocolate cake, un frasier, pink champagne in Lalique crystal glasses.
Nawa-kin has fed me a spoonful of cake & a sip of champagne when Mast'Her makes this remark.
So I should eat cake off the plate ! I don't mind, at least not for cake, lapping it up ... (oh, leave the cream on her face, don't wipe it off !) ... unaware of the sounds I make until Ôda points it out, & I lick the plate voluptuously.
When my fingers start to tingle, Nawa-kin unbinds my arms, leaving just the harness around my breasts.
Later, she binds my legs together in a typical kidnap way. I sit on the couch, not far from Mast'Her, careful not to turn my back to him. He pulls me over so that my head is in his lap. Pet girl. I'm delighted to be so close to him, lying with my legs on the couch, Nawa-kin sitting next to me. She lightly caresses the tops of my thighs, sometimes in between them. I allow the pleasure to mount & it makes me tremble ... des soubresauts... Moments of harmony & peace & belonging.

Mast'Her takes three black plastic clothespins, clamping one on each side of my nipple, making it stand erect. He says : Et là, je mettrai une aiguille. My eyes plead no as I shake my head.
He tells me to stick out my tongue & he puts a clamp on the tip & on the sides. I push some off with my teeth, but he puts them back on. Very uncomfortable & I drool. He tells me to lick my spit off the white pillow, I start to lick, but impulsively disobey, smearing them with my tits.
"Tu as encore fait ce que tu veux !"
He gets up in exasperation, his legs brushing past me. I lie bent over the couch, my legs still bound.

The incredible swoosh of the badine is my only warning as he takes me unawares, as he strikes in a harsh downward blow to punish me. I cry out as the blows continue, making me rise up on my knees, making me dance, swaying away from the badine until I'm sitting on my legs.
He grabs the harness, roughly pulling me up. My hands instinctively grab the front of the rope to prevent it from choking me. He grabs a handful of hair & opens my mouth, stuffing a paper napkin into it. My tongue pushes it forward, he pinches my nose to keep it open. He tears off small pieces & uses his fingers to push them around my mouth, my cheeks & palate, drying the saliva, like cotton-mouth. When he's done, he leaves me. I run my tongue around my mouth to moisten it & fall forward. Nawa-kin gently unties the rope.