How to Train Your Puppygirl

Fuck, there's that flash of dominance again in my head. I just want to tie him down and tease his caged cock until he cries. That sounds like a lot of fun right now, especially since I'll be doing it with my cage keys still around his neck. Yeah, I know he'll see all this when he reads my diary entry later, but who cares? I like all the "punishments" he gives me anyway, and Mistress will dissuade him from anything she doesn't like.

But holy fuck does it still feel good when he's in charge of me. He may be a simple-minded boy, but damn if he isn't an effective dom. Once he decided I'd had my fill of tickling, he started spanking me. I squealed and whined and struggled, but Master didn't let up. Mistress came over, and for a moment I thought she might throw him off me and punish him, but she just forced my face between her legs to huff and told him to make me scream. He gave her an eager "Yes, Mistress" and got right back to work. She said she wanted to feel me howl so loud she felt the vibrations against her g-spot, and I don't think I've ever been more terrified in my life.

Mistress kept a firm grip on my hair as Master wailed on my ass. It hurts to sit down now, I'm pretty sure he bruised my cheeks. It only took a few minutes for him to reduce me to begging, which just came out as pathetic whimpers around the ballgag. "This is what dumb puppygirls get for thinking they're above their Masters," he growled after a particularly vicious spank. "They fucking suffer. They hurt. They think of what they did for a week every time they sit down."

Gods know I'm thinking about it now. He's never been that vicious or aggressive with me before, and I think Mistress planned it this way. She's using me to bring out the cruelest dom she can find in him, encouraging him to take out all his frustrations on me. I was just following her orders to domme him! I'm just being a good girl, why am I getting punished? My ass hurts so much. I should hate this, it's so unfair. Why don't I? Why am I enjoying these unfair games so much?

I'm straining so fucking hard. It feels so good to lose to my owners. Even Master, the big dumb boy, is smarter than me. He has me wrapped around his little finger. Mistress may be in charge of him, but I'm certainly not. I'm just a tool to exercise her will. I just hope I get to exercise it some more.

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

December 14

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Well, if I'm going to exercise more of Mistress' will, it certainly didn't come to pass today.

Master told me stupid little puppygirls don't have jobs after breakfast today, and that instead of working, I was going to spend my time suffering. He took me out of my uniform, replaced my gag with his sweaty gym socks, wrapped me head to toe in plastic wrap and duct tape, then laid me under his desk chair and seemed to forget about me. He rested his feet on my face, his toes over my nose, the one part of me sticking out of my cocoon, and then just went about his workday.

Just sitting here writing about Master's feet is enough to set me off. They're just so... masculine. They're always sweaty and salty and fragrant, even right after he showers. They're huge, big enough that they totally cover my face when he chooses to use me as a footstool. And laying there, bound up so tight I couldn't even wiggle a finger, I had nothing but his scent. I couldn't kiss them or lick them or worship them like I'm usually expected to when they're presented to me, I just had to huff. And huff. And huff. And Drop. Drop. Drop.

It's so hard to think about anything else but Master's feet right now. I can see them clear as day in my mind's eye. Every wrinkle in his sole, exactly how every toe bends or splays when he presses them into my face, how they catch the light when they're sweaty. Everything else was muted when I was in the plastic and tape, my whole world was Master's feet. They're superior to me. He's superior to me. I feel like my brain is soaked in his sweat. What's happening to me?

I was bound up like that for eight hours, he didn't let me out once. He barely even acknowledged me. I started whining at one point that I had to pee really badly, but it was unintelligible as ever around my gag and he paid it no mind. Eventually I couldn't hold it anymore and... and I peed myself. I let out a truly pitiful whine as it leaked out, forming a puddle all around me in my wrappings. Then I just had to sit there and marinate in it for hours as he kept working. The scent of my own pee combined with Master's musk fucking fried my mind. I don't think I would've needed a full stroke to cum, just a touch. One touch. If I don't cum soon I think I'm going to be broken like this for good.

Then do I really want to cum? It feels amazing to be broken. Once Master logged off for the day and cut me out of my bonds, the first thing he did was laugh at me for pissing myself. I whined into my gag, of course I pissed myself! I'd been in there for eight hours, what was I supposed to do?! But then he just dragged me into the shower, applied the metal cuffs waiting inside, and sprayed me down with his pee too. "Good little hostage," he called me, and that made my heart flutter. Hostage. Not a partner anymore, barely even a pet. Just a prisoner. His toy to use and manipulate as he sees fit, and if he wants me to spend a day inescapably bound and huffing his perfect toes, then that's exactly what I'll do.

Gods did he want to fuck me when he was washing me off. I could feel how hard he was straining in his cage as he humped against my ass. He sank his teeth into my neck and growled like a wild animal, groping and squeezing my tits, pulling delicious moans out from behind my gag. His socks are still taped into my muzzle right now, and oh they taste like heaven! I love the flavor of Master's sweat. I love it more than orgasms. I love my usual bone gag, but fuck I hope I get more sweat-soaked gags from Master and Mistress. They make me fucking feral. I really do feel like a dumb, drooling puppygirl when I get to taste them all day like this. Mistress even commented on it at dinner! She just threw it out nonchalantly, like it was just a little fun fact, that I seemed to get a lot dumber when my gag tasted like one of my owners. I blushed and whined into my kibble, but I kept eating like a good puppygirl.

After dinner, before I got my yummy treats sealed back in my muzzle, Master and Mistress decided I needed some sensual pleasure after my day spent as a taped-up footrest. Mistress pinned me to the bed by my shoulders and made out with me Drop. Drop. Drop. while Master stuffed my butt full of toys. Every time Mistress kisses me Drop. Drop. Drop. it feels like absolute nirvana. The feel of her soft lips against mine, the way her tongue presses inside, how it leaves me breathless and desperate for more. Drop. Drop. Drop. It feels like she pulls my brains out of me with her lips. I always liked kissing her before, but now I fucking love it. The one downside to always being gagged is that it makes it so much harder to enjoy the taste of Mistress' lips. Drop. Drop. Drop.

My pussy is so much more accommodating that it used to be. I guess my body has accepted that pleasure doesn't come from my cock anymore, so it's accepting other sources much more enthusiastically. The toys he used on me... I could never take those before. I only ever saw them in Mistress' pussy and got quietly jealous that I could never handle them. But after just a bit of opening me up with his tongue and fingers, Master was slamming the biggest toys we have against my puppy button. It didn't even hurt much! Every time I winced even a little, Mistress' lips were back on mine Drop. Drop. Drop. and every thought of pain or discomfort vanished. I just opened right up and let every last toy into my pussy like a good puppygirl.

Mmmfff, my pussy is so sore now. Once they were done, they put my uniform back on me, re-gagged me, and snuggled me, telling me what a good girl I am for them. I just laid in their arms and zoned out, sucking on Master's socks, happy to be allowed up on the bed. I didn't have to think, I didn't have to worry about anything, every stress that had plagued my life for so long felt so far away. I was bound, gagged, caged, and collared, laying with my Master and Mistress. What more could a good puppygirl possibly need?

I'm locked back in my kennel now with the sheet thrown over it, and Master and Mistress are back at it. They've been fucking like rabbits all month, and it sounds like Master's really getting it tonight. From his desperate comments about how good her toes taste, I'd wager he's tied up at her feet and worshipping. I hear a buzzing sound, I think that's the remote control plug in his hole. Oh, he must be going crazy! I wish I could see. Only being able to hear is driving me nuts, but I don't think that'll engender much sympathy with Master and Mistress. They probably like it that way.

I think I just heard Mistress cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Fuck, I think I'm losing my mind.

(Editor's note: Good. Puppygirls don't think. They Drop. Drop. Drop.)

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

December 15

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

I... I don't know what came over me today.

It started out normally. Master took me out of my kennel and made me eat him out before breakfast. Mistress took me upstairs to tie me up and grope me in the shower afterward. She made out with me a bunch too Drop. Drop. Drop. and I dripped like crazy, but everything was standard (well, what passes for standard now) until she took me out of my shower restraints to dry me off. I just... couldn't hold myself back. I shoved her against the wall of the shower and locked lips with her, slipping two fingers in her pussy. She definitely wasn't expecting that. Her muscles tensed up against me for a moment, but then she just went limp and moaned. I felt that rush of power again, and nobody was around to make me stop.

I thought about whispering teases into her ear about how easy it was to overpower her, but instead I growled. It felt much more right. And oh, she fucking loved that. Started moaning like a bitch and humping against my hand. I pushed my tongue in her mouth and massaged my thumb against her clit, feeling her shake and shiver in my grip. She's much bigger and stronger than me, she could've stopped me in no time flat, but she didn't. Mistress let the puppygirl she's put so much effort into training have her way with her, and I wasn't about to let that opportunity end at fingering her in the shower.

I figured I wouldn't really get another chance like this, so I grabbed her by her hair and dragged her off to bed, barking at her to encourage her to follow along. She did, wincing as I pulled on her hair, leaving a trail of water and her own juices on the floor behind her. I led her up onto the bed, not caring that we were both dripping wet, and directed her to lay on her back with her arms and legs stretched out. I saw a moment's hesitation in her eyes, but she obeyed and let me strap her down in the comfy leather cuffs.

Mistress looks amazing all bound up. It accentuates her curves as well as her muscles, and she gets the cutest look on her face. This mix of fear, excitement, and raw lust that made me want to pull exquisite noises from her lips. Well, with some obstruction. My eyes drifted over to the laundry hamper, where I saw her own dirty panties. I got a vicious little grin and bolted over to grab them, and before Mistress knew what was happening, I stuffed them in her mouth and sealed them in with the roll of duct tape on Master's nightstand.

Her muffled moans were enough to catch Master's attention, and he looked stunned when he came in the door. Mistress pleaded for him to stop me when she saw him, but he wasn't about to get in my way. She's been pretty cruel and dominant with him lately, and while he obviously loves it, he's always liked seeing her turned into a needy puddle in bed. I barked happily at Master and pointed at our dildo bin, and he immediately got the message. Mistress whined into her gag, her cheeks bright red. It just made me want to torment her more.

The next hour was a blur. I beat her tits, I sat on her face, I choked her, I bit down on her neck hard enough to leave bruises, and I growled and barked up a storm. All the while, Master stuffed her pussy nice and full and ignored her clit. That treatment had her begging him to just brush against it, she just wanted to cum. At least, I assume. Gag talk is hard to understand. But she didn't exactly have a sympathetic ear between the two of us, what with how hard both of us were straining, so he kept going. At one point, he stopped toyfucking her long enough to put me back in my uniform, minus my gag, but he did not make a single move to stop me. In fact, he praised me!

"Such a good puppygirl, look how much pleasure you're giving our Mistress," he whispered as I dripped candle wax on her tits. "She's so wet, she's moaning so much, you're a perfect little service dog." Service dog. Oh fuck, I like that one. I provide vital assistance to my owner, and I make their life much better and easier to navigate. I think I love serving while being on top. Why should being a good puppygirl begin and end with being a docile little pet? My Master and Mistress deserve better than that. Sometimes to feel good, they need to be the ones getting tied up and used!

Once Master worked through every dildo we owned, with Mistress still just shy of the release she craved so badly, we stopped. We didn't let her go, we just left her tied up on the bed and went to do some work! Master locked me to my desk, put my pretty bone back in, and went off to his office to get some tasks done. We left Mistress bound and needy on the bed, a huge toy in her cunt, moaning into her gag. It felt so good to listen to her desperation while I wrote, and know that even if I wanted to do something to relieve it (I didn't), it was impossible. Only Master had the keys to my bonds, and he was busy. So Mistress would just have to wait and suffer like I do!

We did finally let her out for dinner and gave her some snuggles. Master told her she did so well and I let out muffled barks of agreement. Once she'd recovered enough for words, she pulled me into a huge hug and told me how amazing I made her feel, how I was such a good puppygirl, and that even though she was going to give me a massive dose of payback for all this, that should not make me think she didn't love it. She said I made for an excellent Alpha puppy! I don't really understand what that means, but it felt good and I wagged my tail.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. I guess Mistress held my cuffed feet in her lap and tickled my toes while I howled into my gag, but that hardly seems out of the ordinary at this point. I guess that's kind of insane, but I don't ever want to go back to my old normal. Being a submissive puppygirl fucking RULES! I feel more present and happy than I have in years. Writing comes to me more easily, I feel close and connected with Master and Mistress, and being bound all the time feels awesome. I'm all comfy and secure and safe. Even my gag is comforting! I used to be so worried about saying the wrong thing and alienating my partners, but now I literally can't. I'm also less afraid of that now. Hell yeah.

I didn't realize sex could be therapeutic like this. I feel liberated in my bondage. I don't ever want them to let me out.

(Editor's note: Don't worry puppygirl. We won't. -Master)

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

December 16

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Good puppygirls Drop ! Drop! Drop!

Mistress wasn't kidding about payback.

It was unseasonably warm today, over 50 degrees. Mistress decided this was an opportunity we couldn't pass up, so while Master was away at a Magic tournament for the day, she said we were going on a trip. Of course, she said that after she shoved me against a wall and pressed her knee into my balls, so I could guess that our trip would lead to me being needy and submissive. I wasn't quite prepared for how right I was though.

Mistress clipped a leash onto my collar and dragged me out into the driveway, right where everyone in the neighborhood could see, and she threw me in the trunk and locked my cuffs into a hogtie. She gave me this truly terrifying smile, one that promised a day full of hellish suffering. So why did it make me so needy I thought I'd pass out? Well, I had a long time to consider it. She slammed the trunk in my face and got in the driver's seat, heading well up into the mountains. A speaker she left in the trunk switched on and there was her voice telling me to Drop. Drop. Drop.

I know it told me other things, it must've! Judging by how sore my muscles were when she finally stopped the car and switched off the speaker, I was in the trunk for quite a while. But I just can't remember any of it. Hearing Drop. Drop. Drop. in her voice is apparently enough to shut me off but being aware of that doesn't mean I can stop it. Hell, I can't even stop myself from writing it like that. It's like a reflex. I don't really understand how or why that happens, but it feels really good to not be fully in control of my own mind. I'm such a fucking sub.

Mistress undid my hogtie and locked a short chain between my ankle cuffs, long enough to let me take steps but short enough to significantly hobble me. I wasn't going anywhere fast, but Mistress dragged me out of the car by my leash and led me into the woods she'd parked in front of. I had no idea where we were, and nobody else looked to be around. I gulped. For the first time, I truly had no help of rescue from the sadistic girl I loved. And after yesterday, I had every right to be afraid.

She looked incredible. She was dressed in hiking boots, tight-fitting jeans, and a flannel cutoff. The body of the top ended just below her breasts but the sleeves ran all the way down her arm, framing her form while also showing off her stomach. I drooled just looking at her. The way she sways that ass when she walks... I'm getting fucking drippy just thinking about her.

"You know, I can do whatever I want to you out here, little hostage," she said, tugging hard on my leash. I stumbled forward and whined into my gag. "Nobody's here but us. Nobody but me can let you out of your bonds, and I don't feel especially inclined to do that. In fact, I think you're not restrained enough." Mistress rifled through her backpack and pulled out the bicep cuffs, then secured them together with a padlock. That intoxicating stretch ran through my shoulders and forced me to stand up perfectly straight, but Mistress wasn't done. She took off my usual padded leather collar, and replaced it with a different one.

It's much wider and thicker, and it's made of a stiffer leather. Master's telling me it's called a posture collar. That seems like the right name for it considering its effect. If I didn't stand up perfectly straight and hold my neck perfectly upright, the collar cut off my airflow. No resisting, no negotiating, no begging. If I angled my chin toward the forest floor one bit, no more air for the puppygirl. I tried to whine in protest, but Mistress just locked it on and continued. "We've been pretty gentle with you so far, puppygirl," she said. "I think you need a greater understanding of fear. You have your way out. It will be respected instantly if it is used. But so long as you aren't using it, I will take every opportunity to make your experience today as terrifying as possible."