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Breathless, BDSM-roleplay-breathplay-doggy-style

You are seated at the table, as you often are, working on payroll. I am waiting for the right moment. Finally, you say loudly to me, “Whew! Payroll is finally finished.” I call to you facing the wrong way to make it sound as if from my desk in the bedroom, “Well that’s good. Was there a problem?” “Just the damn ADP link, as usual,” you reply. “Perhaps you need a little distraction,” I say, and I am hoping you hear the tease in my tone so that you’ll look in my direction. You do, and your eyes blink. I am standing nearer than you realized, because I have entered the room quietly and swiftly. I am wearing the collar you gave to me. You had told me I could put it on and take it off whenever I wanted. So I am wearing the collar. And I am not wearing anything else. As I slowly walk toward you, I see that you are pleased, but you are pretending to be angry. I hold out the leash and avert my eyes. You grab the leash and pull me down to the floor. “You seem to have forgotten your place, Doggrrl. You should be on all fours.” I clamber awkwardly to my hands and knees. I make puppy panting noises and rub my nose against your leg, attempting to win my Master’s favor. From my position, I see that your pants are beginning to rise at the crotch. I look up at you and ask you with my eyes. You know full well what I am asking. “No! Doggrrl, you do not get to have a treat any time you want it. You have to earn it.” When you say that, you pull up on the leash, and I immediately obey the nonverbal “Sit” command. I make a little puppy whining noise, and try again to nuzzle your thigh. You start to pet my head, but not nicely, rather harshly. Then you pull my hair so that my head is facing away from you. “Doggrrl, fetch me that New Yorker magazine.” I begin crawling on my hands and knees toward the coffee table where the magazine lies. I get about four inches away from the magazine when I feel the end of leash length. I try to pull a little to get to my target, but you give a corrective tug back. I whine like a puppy and tug back. This time you yank the leash harder, and I feel a hint of asphyxiation. I relax a bit, but I don’t accept my failure to complete the task you have given me. After you feel that I am no longer pulling, you relax your hold on the leash, and I seize my opportunity to lunge for the magazine. Success! I have a few pages of it between my teeth and pull the magazine off the table. It falls to the floor. As I lower my head toward the floor to get it, I suddenly feel the sharp sting of a slap on my upturned ass. “Ouch!” I say before I realize my error, which is rewarded with an even harder spank. “A Doggrrl that can talk?” you ask, the sarcasm palpable in your voice. I reply with puppy-like whining as I pick up the magazine with my teeth. I turn and offer it to you, averting my eyes. You take it from me and immediately begin to roll it up. Oh dear, I think. That’s going to really hurt. “You’re probably thinking there is not a large number of spanks coming, since you accomplished your task despite the obstacles.” I fight the urge to nod, and I simply whine a bit. “What a strange pet you are, but then again, you’re just a stupid doggrrl who can’t count anyway. The way I see it, and that’s the only way that matters, isn’t it Doggrrl, you have come in here are if a real girl, forgetting your place. That’s two, one for each foot you weren’t using. Then you have the nerve to ask for a treat. That’s gotta be two more. You use cleverness, which I loathe, to get your task accomplished, and you sprout a human voice when your cleverness is corrected. That’s at least five more. So that puts you at nine. We’ll round it up to ten, because I know you thought you were going to get off easy.” You begin to spank my ass with the rolled up New Yorker, counting loudly with delight as you go, and I can’t help thinking of the irony. Not only is there a story about penguins, which you love, but there is also an article about battered women in that issue, and here I am willingly taking a beating from you. By the third spank, I can feel my ass reddening and I begin to get wet. Then you begin to randomly insert gentle spanks and loving touches with your hand to my ass as you count the remaining seven spanks, the last one being much more of a caress than a spank. I raise my ass to your caressing hand and begin panting, making a kind of purring or humming sound. Your fingers begin to explore my reddened cheeks down to my moistened pussy, and you say to me, “Doggrrll, it seems to me that you have been taking some pleasure in your punishment.” I wriggle in response to your touch and look around in your direction, but not to your face. I can see that your cock has gotten a bit bigger now. I ask you again with my eyes. “Well, Doggrrl,” you begin, “I suppose you have earned a treat.” You walk around, in front of me now. “Go ahead then, be a good grrrl and do your special trick using your teeth. If you do it well, you get to have the treat inside.” Still on all fours, I lean forward and gather the zipper of your fly between my lips. I grasp it with my teeth, snarling a bit, and start pulling it down. It’s a bit rough going; your pants have tightened around your bulging cock. “Careful there, Doggrrl. You don’t want to wreck your treat.” Your caution is needless. You know I am quite skilled at this particular trick. You are simply teasing me. I succeed at freeing your cock from your pants, which I pull downward. I see now that you are wearing your Nautica underwear, which lack that lovely opening in front. I will have to pull them down past your fully erect cock with my teeth. This task is actually easier than retrieving it from behind that cotton curtain with just my teeth and tongue, but I snarl again, as if in disappointment anyway. You laugh wickedly, delighted with my success and my apparent dismay at the sight of your Nauticas. I proceed to deftly remove your underwear from your crotch, pulling them down to your pants. Proud, I sneak a glance up, and quickly avert my eyes again. “Too late my pet,” you say. You saw me looking at your face, so you slap mine, hard. I see stars. “No treat for you.” You grab my hair, pulling my head back, and you fuck my face cruelly. I almost choke as you shove your cock into my mouth. It has a great deal of girth, as you well know. You quickly fill my mouth down my throat, covering my access to air. You put your other hand over the collar on my throat and squeeze, just in case I have any air to breathe. But I don’t. So I swallow, hard, as much cock as I can, hoping that my inevitable cough will win me some mercy. I cough. You laugh. “Too much treat, little pet?” You pull your cock away from my face, and with your hand in my hair you pull me around facing the other way. I know what you want to do to me. But I also know that in order to fuck me doggy-style you will have to get to your knees too. That will give me just enough time to catch my breath before you put your hand to my throat again. Pulling my hair with one hand and choking me with the other, you have your way with me, and I love every breathless moment of it. Your cock feels so good in my pussy that I can feel an orgasm welling up. You sense it too, and for a moment you release my throat long enough to spank my ass a few times. I bark in response, and you step up your thrusts into me as I cum, loudly. Then you put your hand back onto the collar on my throat. You haven’t cum yet, and I sense another orgasm of my own getting ready to explode. You start fucking me in a rhythm I know well, as I‘ve experienced it before with you. You are fucking me to the beat of fibonacci numbers, pausing momentarily at each one, allowing me a quick breath. When you reach 13, I become afraid that I might not be able to get to 21. Because I am breathless. When you get to 19 you release my throat and I begin barking again. You explode inside of me just as I do too. After we catch our breath, you get up and put your pants back. I take off my collar and stand. I look into your eyes and say, “Glad you were able to get the payroll done, Love. Next time, let me know if there’s anything I can fetch for you to make it easier.” “That’s my girl!”