Thursday, May 19, 2011

5 days in Amsterdam! Saturday evening

When we got back to the hotel, both Man and hound where rather worn out - and so we retired to bed for a quick nap. When we awoke it was already dark - and so the pup took the opportunity to take a few night-time pics through our window. Handler had originally planned to take the pup out to The Web for some post-Queen's day play in their sling - but both of us where so tired that we decided to chill with some TV for a while before we made any decisions.

It was kinda fun to simply relax: lying back on the bed in our socks and underwear with Handler flicking through the chanels as the pup lay on its belly and fiddled with its phone, trying to get onto the hotel's WiFi network; He had to laugh that His pup "is worse than a teenager with that thing!", but finally had to tell it to put the phone away when it stared to get frustrated and cross at its lack of success - softening His words with a little whistle and a lifted arm: the pup didn't need any more encouragement, and scooted across the bed to nuzzle happily into His side whilst its Man tried to introduce it to the wonders of Dutch TV...

At least, that was the plan; but Handler found it hard to concentrate with His pup curled up on the bed with Him - its head snuggled up against His chest as it drowsed, enfolded in His warmth and the comforting sounds of His heartbeat. It couldn't help but sigh and gently press its head up against Him when it felt His idle hand stroking its head and gently pulling at its beard - His fingers following the soft line of its throat to find and trace the edge of His collar where it held its neck safely padlocked.

The pup tilts its head to gaze up at the rapt look on its Mans face as those stroking fingers travel down to trace the matching dog-tag and chain inked over its heart: proud and honoured that He acknowledges and adhores that permanent reminder of its devotion to Him, and its own acceptance of its inner k9 identity. For a long moment Man and dog stare deep into each others eyes - sharing a look that expresses a bond that is too deep for mere words.

His hand strokes over the dog's chest, finds and lightly toys with a nipple - gently growls at the dog's sighed moan in responce.

Slowly, gently, He starts to play with the tender little nub of flesh: stroking, rubbing, flicking... as the flesh slowly darkens and swells, He gently takes hold of it - rolling it between His fingers, gently pulling it first upwards, then down - now side to side. He is fed by the moans and sighs that His dog makes - and the way that it almost subconsiously starts to raise its chest up towards Him: stretching its pecs and exposing its nipples to Him more. The tweaking and pulling becomes harder - and the dog groans a little - but squirms in a satisfyingly eager way. He pinches harder - building the pressure into discomfort and then into pain. His dog's groans turn to whimpers and then little gasps and indrawn breaths - its eyes open and it winces up at Him with big puppy-dog eyes, but He can also see its dog-cock swell and harden and knows that its body is responding to His demands.

It wriggles and moans - He watches, fascinated, as it bites its lip, flinches, fights its natural urge to pull away or to beg Him to stop; sees it fight and then slowly surrender - open itself up to Him and accept everything that He wishes to give to it. Watches it surrender to His pain, and allow itself to be transformed by it.

"That's it - good dog. Take my pain. My pervert dog"

His words only seem to deepen the dogs surrender - and make its cock twitch and drip in responce.

"Your pain-pig Sir - Your pervert pup!"

He pinches one nip hard whilst He reaches down with His free hand to stroke and then take hold of its balls - gently pulls them in time to the pulse of pain He is inflicting on its chest; forming an erotic current of pain that links the different parts of its body in a chain of surrender to Him. His forearm brushes the tip of its cock and the dog helplessly bucks its hips a little to hump against it - clenching its inner thighs against His hand and pulling against its own balls as it leaves a trail of pre-cum that glistens through His fur; He can feel the heat of its hole against His naked thigh...

He tells it to turn over - onto all fours: its balls hanging low and its hot little hole exposed. He traces a finger down the ink on its back and strokes the soft fur on its butt - enjoys the little growl it gives and the shake of its hips: knows that it is wagging an imaginary tail in pleasure at its Man's touch. Between its legs its swollen dog-cock drips onto the bed sheets.

He reaches for His fuck-bag - smiles as His dog looks over its shoulder at Him, watching Him prepare: eyes filled with desire and devotion. It shudders a little when it feels the cool lube in its hole - then lowers its head to the bed and pushes its hips high: exposing its fuck-hole to Him in a purely k9 act of submission. He holds its butt cheeks slightly open, feels its hole twitch against His sheathed head; He pushes against a moment of resistance - hears the dog let out a long sighing breath as it relaxes - and slowly, gently, He enters His dog...

He strokes long and slow at first - enjoying the feeling as His dog's hole slowly relaxes - opens up deeper and deeper to His probing meat. He feels the pup clench and relax the inner ring of its muscles - opening them up, but also knowing that He enjoys the way that massages His cock from the inside. The dog turns its head where it is pressed into the bedding - looking back at Him from under its braced arm - its face a picture of concentrated effort and deep desire.

He reaches forward - guides it up onto all fours again so that He can reach underneath its belly to find those sensitive nips again; the dog arches its back and gives a satisfyingly deep moan as its Man tweaks and pulls - the harder He pinches, the more it seems to make its dog-hole respond: that chain of pain and surrender now reaching down into its core. Taking His pain, taking His meat - becoming His and being TAKEN.

He takes hold of its shoulders - fucks deeper, harder - pushing His dog to surrender fully. He leans forward, pushes down with all His weight onto its back - enjoys the moment as it tries to hold them both up, but then has to allow Him to force it down onto its belly. He traps its legs beneath His own - grabs it's wrists and pulls them above its head to hold them in one powerful hand - feels it writhe underneath Him: restrained and bound by His greater weight and strength.

He grinds down into it - squeezing the breath from its lungs as He pounds into its hole. His furry chest rubs into its back as mutters into its ear: "MINE!"

Pinned, trapped beneath Him, it pants back at Him through clenched teeth: "YOURS! SIR!" Helpless, yet open - it cannot resist as He forces it to take His fucking.

He relents a little - pulls it back up onto all fours; reaches around to hold its hips steady whilst He strokes Himself down into it - building to His own climax. When He can feel He is close, He reaches under the dog's belly - finds its own cock full and wet and ready to cum. He wraps a hand around its meat and carefully He times His strokes: listens for the dogs panting sign that it is on the edge - waits for that moment before finally pushing deep down inside and letting Himself go so that they can both cum together in a grunting, howling union of Man and dog....

Sated, He lets the dog collapse back down onto the bed - turns it on its side so that it can lie spooned in the curve of His body, His cock still deep inside its body. It shudders as He wipes His cum-filled hand up its chest: smearing and marking it with its own cum - He knows it will wear that scent with pride: a badge of its own perversity and His complete control.

Quitely, He tells it to reach across the bed - to put out the light.

Bonded, complete - Man and hound drift off into sleep - a perfect end to a perfect day.

Queen's day postings:

In the sling at The Web:
Final Day: 

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