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Chapter Two
It was made of dark leather, with little metal studs, although there was definitely more to it than that, the collar merely sat atop a pile of other stuff that she hadn't identified. "Yes, it certainly looks like one, doesn't it?"
"Where did you even get that?" They didn't have a dog. Could he have taken it from the neighbors?
He picked up the collar, and she could see that it was attached to a leash, which made up much of the pile... but not all of it. Beneath that, there were other things she still wasn't sure about, but they looked like they might be boots or gloves or something. Those didn't come from the neighbor's dog. "Apparently, Mom is more of a freak than I ever imagined," Keith said. "Or maybe it's Dad. But I think it's probably Mom. She reads those stupid books."
The Fifty Shades books, he must mean. Susan had read some of it, but she didn't remember anything like this in them. Of course she flipped back and forth a lot while trying to find out the appeal, rather than reading straight through. There was just a lot of Christian being a controlling jerk, which she didn't like (although there were times when it seemed like him looking out for her because she didn't care about herself enough, and that tickled something inside of her), and some tying up and hitting. A leash? That seemed especially weird for people having sex to do to each other. Like who'd want to have sex with a dog?
Keith, apparently... or at least, like somebody he could treat like a dog. He leaned forward and attached the collar to her neck. She remained still for this, knowing that fighting it was only going to lead to more trouble later. And what did it matter, if he used the leash while having sex with her doggy-style, he could pull her head back without grabbing her hair. She always liked how that felt, him pulling her back, and at the same time pulling her more onto him, but with her short hair sometimes he had to grab too close and pulled too hard and it hurt.
When she put a finger between her neck and the collar, Keith asked, "Too tight?" She shook her head, taking some comfort in the fact that he cared. It might be uncomfortable if she had to wear it for a really long time, but probably it wouldn't be long before Keith got bored, and even if he didn't, Mom and Dad would be back that afternoon. Both their eyes lingered on the other stuff on the platter. Keith held one up and it looked like a mitten made of leather. She could now tell beneath them were some boots that had weird long straps and buckles, but whatever they were for, Keith looked at them and put them aside on the bed, saying, "I think we'll do without these, for now. As long as you're good." Before she could think about what that meant, he ruffled her hair, then stroked her side with surprising tenderness that gave her goosebumps. "Come on," he said, then stood up and pulled on the leash. Susan climbed off the bed and stood, enjoying the feeling after being on her back for so long. Keith took a step out of the room, and Susan followed.
They only got a couple steps for her brother looked back. "What are you doing?"
"What?"
"Dogs don't walk like that. Get on your hands and knees."
She did this without complaint. She'd done that before, fully clothed, once in a while, run around on her hands and knees for fun. This time, she even had a tail to wag.
Or had, anyway. When she wagged it to demonstrate, the vibrator clattered to the floor.
"Oops," she said, and reached back to grab it. It wasn't so bad, at least now she could turn it on.
"No," Keith said, his voice firm and forceful. She looked up at him, hopeful. Did he want to fuck her already? Instead, though, he said, "You can't pick things up with your hands. You're a dog, remember?"
Susan rolled her eyes with her head lowered so he couldn't see. This was just getting silly. What next, was he going to make her eat out of a bowl on the floor? "Come on, Keith, you can't make me..." She wasn't trying to stand up to him, though, she said it more to try and convince him how silly it was.
"Of course I can," he interrupted. "I could get you to put on the rest of the outfit so you can't use your hands or walk on your feet, but I think it's more fun this way. Remember... I can make you do anything I want. I can write 'acts like a dog' on you and you won't have any choice. You'd follow me out to the yard and lift your leg to pee on the fencepost if I wanted it. Or I could breed you to the dog next door and make you love it. And maybe I will do that if you won't be a good doggy inside the house." Susan gulped. "But, see, the fun part of being a master is watching you do things not because you have to, but just because I ask you to. And if I'm not having fun... well, let's just say that the more bored I get, the more time I'll have to think about other things the marker could force you to do."
By now she knew when she was defeated. "Okay, fine," she said. She let go of the vibrator, and hoped he'd put it back in.
"No talking, either," he said. "Dogs don't talk. And they certainly don't talk back. If you need my attention, you can bark."
Susan sighed automatically, belatedly wondering if dogs did that, if that would get her punished. Keith didn't call her on it, though. Instead, he tugged on her collar again. But... she almost spoke the word aloud, then remembered, and let out a little bark, like a dog asking a question, and nudged her head to the vibrator.
Keith bent down, took it, then put it on his dresser. "No, I don't think you've earned this yet."
Surprisingly, Susan found she didn't mind it being out after all. She loved anal stuff, but that being inside of her for so long, and on for a large part of their bondage play, she'd started to feel used to it, almost numb to it. In fact, with it out, her butt actually was tingling even more than it had before, as it got used to trying to be tight again. She still craved the feeling of something inside of her, but the feeling of it first going in, stretching her was one of the best parts. And it was like almost anything... if you don't take a break, you take it for granted. Like how eating feels good, but it's so much better if you're actually hungry.
That comparison made her tummy rumble to remind her that she was still actually hungry, but if she couldn't talk, it was going to be hard to satisfy that urge, unless Keith let her off the leash... or unless he let her suck his cock. But although she craved that too, it wasn't very filling, and it didn't seem to be part of Keith's immediate plans anyway, since he had his pants on.
Instead, he led her downstairs on the leash, while she shuffled forward on her hands and knees, which she might have done on her own sometimes, but it got old fast, particularly when you went down stairs. Going upstairs wasn't too bad, but down was surprisingly slow and awkward, particularly when somebody's walking in front of you and you have to keep your speed low.
On the ground floor, he walked her around in a circle, just to seemingly tease her and show off his power. After the second repeat, Susan decided to make a barking noise and pull at the leash when they neared the kitchen entrance.
He deliberately missed the point. "What's that, girl?" he asked. She barked again and jerked her head towards the kitchen. "You want to go for a walk outside?" He started towards the front door, which they were nowhere near, and she waited until he tugged hard on the leash to finally follow, a big frown on her face. "Okay," he said. "If you want me to walk you out outside, I guess I can."
A blush formed on Susan's face, despite her knowing how unlikely it was that her brother would follow through with the threat. She could see him maybe doing that in the back yard... it was a risk, but there were fences and most of the time nobody was looking in anybody's yard. But out front? Somebody would see. And it didn't matter that Keith had a magic marker, he had to know that if he took her out naked in the front yard on a leash, he'd be arrested. Still, just the thought... everybody seeing her... thinking she was some kind of freak for going along with her brother. Maybe he wouldn't even be risking himself... what if he just took the leash off, opened the door, and told her to run around outside without him, so it looked like her idea? He'd never do that, would he?
Maybe. And maybe her flushed face might give him the idea that she wanted it, like it sometimes seemed to. So Susan shook her head defiantly and barked again. "I don't know what you want," he said, like he was disappointed, but the smirk on his face proved that was a lie.
Fine, she'd play that game. She sat up on her knees, and then put her hands up by her mouth, palms down, like she really was a dog and doing the "begging" trick. Dogs did that when they wanted food, right?
"Oh, you want some food, do you?" Susan nodded, and barked. "Oh, okay, fine. Let's get you some food."
Finally, he walked her to the kitchen, and started looking through the cupboards. Since they didn't have a pet, Susan at least didn't have to worry that she was going to have to eat dog food or something gross like that. He'd have to give her real food.
Keith must have been thinking along similar lines, but more inventively, because he pulled out a bowl and a box of cereal, and poured the cereal in the bowl. It was Reese's Puffs, which, in a bowl without any milk, did actually look a lot like dog kibble. Even more when he put it on the floor like he expected her to eat it from there. Which, Susan supposed, he did.
Eating the dry cereal didn't bother her... sometimes she liked eating it without milk more. But eating without her hands was going to be difficult and humiliating. Then again, she was so hungry. All she'd had for breakfast was some cum, an under-the-table blowjob her brother demanded. And although that satisfied one kind of hunger, it was only took up a tiny amount of actual space in her stomach.
So she glared up at him, and then planted her mouth in the bowl, slurping as much as she could into her mouth and then chewing them into tiny bits and swallowing. On her second mouthful, just as she was starting to need a drink, her brother read her mind again, and put his usual degrading spin on it. He half-filled a bowl with water and put it beside the food bowl. She knew she'd get punished for using her hands, so she lapped up what she could with her tongue, while occasionally looking up at her brother who had a smirk on his lips.
Going back and forth between the cereal and the water, it took what felt like ten minutes to finish off the bowl, and her stomach felt better, but she still wasn't full. Yet she couldn't ask him for more, not directly. Even if she made a sound, she'd probably just get more cereal, and she was getting sick of that. So when he asked "All done?" she gave a little shrug, and he tugged her leash to get her to follow him back to the living room.
There, she finally got something she wanted, a reward for obedience. Her brother patted the couch, like he wanted her up on it, and when she complied, he used his free hand to pull apart one lip of her pussy while the one that held the leash fumbled for his crotch. Finally. She let out the happiest bark she could make. "Yeah, you're going to be a good doggy, aren't you?" Another happy bark greeted that, and seconds later, felt the warm head of his cock pressing into her, prying her apart, and her fuck toy instincts took over, her hole relaxing just enough to allow him easy entry while still being tight. Soon he was thrusting up into her, filling her, while she let out a little moan that sounded close to a growl. A few seconds later, she let out a bark. Maybe it was because he was treating her like a dog, her fuck toy nature forced her to act like one... or maybe it was just the only thing that seemed natural, considering he asked her to pretend. It was hard to tell sometimes... that was the scariest part of the marker's writing. How much would go back to normal if the words faded, and how much was not a permanent part of her soul. Maybe now that she'd experienced sex and how good it could be, she'd always be super horny. For all she knew she was a natural fuck toy and the marker just awakened that instinct for the first time.
At least she enjoyed getting fucked, and continued letting out animal noises, usually right at the end of a firm thrust, or when he first did tug back on the leash, forcing her neck back into an uncomfortable position, and yet liking the feeling even as it made her yelp.
Keith seemed like an animal too, at these times, the way he took her, pounded against her, like instinct had completely taken him over, and the only thing that set them apart was that he was the alpha, the one who was unquestionably in charge, the one whose pleasure came first. It was a relief losing herself in that secondary role, especially knowing that as a fuck toy, her pleasure would come when his did. Why not let him take charge, use her body to get what he wants as quickly as possible? After all, she'd get it at the same time, and if she expended any thought beyond reacting to his movements, she might just get in the way and delay things. When she gave her will over to his, it was like they were one.
Before long, they were one in orgasm too, as she felt that squirt inside her that triggered an explosion of pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head and not even caring that she felt like she couldn't breathe because he'd reflexively pulled back on the leash so hard it was choking her airway. He let go just as she was starting to feel like she might pass out, but in some ways that was what it was always like, towards the end, as the pleasure receded. He let the leash drop and they both breathed out firmly as he pressed his crotch into her to make sure every last drop landed inside. "Good doggy," he said finally, as he let himself slide out of her, pulling a river of slime with him. He let go of the leash and backed away, pulling his cock back into his underwear. "You stay and clean up, I need to go to the bathroom."
Susan started to do what was instinctual by then, satisfying her cum addiction with what was already inside of her. But when she reached towards the goo dripping down her legs, her brother's voice stopped her cold. "No," he said. She looked up to see a grin on him. "No hands, remember?"
"Bu..." she started to ask, but he shot her one more warning glance and she corrected herself. "Buh-ark," she said. How was she supposed to clean herself up without scooping up the cum and licking it off her fingers?
Like dogs clean themselves, she decided instantly, as Keith continued on to the bathroom. It was easier said than done. She was flexible, but it was hard to bend in half and get close enough to lick. To smell, that was easy, that pungent (yet somehow now pleasantly intoxicating) aroma was tantalizingly in reach, but her tongue wouldn't reach. It wasn't just a matter of bending over... she could touch her toes without problem, but that would put her head nearer to her knees, still too far from her pussy. By trying to curve her spine and neck in an awkward position, she could get close, not quite make contact. It always came down to two parts of her body needing to pull in different directions.
She let out an exasperated sigh, blowing up a lock of her hair in the first puff, and as she watched it drift down she had another idea. Instead of bending to reach it, she lay on her back and pulled her legs in the air, dangling over her, like she was in the middle of a somersault and stopped.
She still couldn't reach it... but now gravity was working in her favor. Only... not fast enough. Though she opened her mouth and extended her tongue, it was mostly sliding along her body, rather than dripping down. She did manage to squeeze her pussy in such a way that a white drop from inside dangled temptingly, it was like waiting for stuck ketchup in a bottle.
"Well, you're trying," her brother said, having returned from the bathroom. "I'll give you that." She hadn't been paying attention to the sounds, so it surprised her, and turning her face enough to see him caused a long strand of liquid to land on her cheek. Luckily, that was within range of her tongue. "Maybe I should write 'flexible' on you so you can do it exactly like dogs do."
She couldn't answer him, not without breaking his rules, so she gave him a shrug and a smile. That really wasn't something dogs did either (they always looked like they were smiling), but he never complained about that. Still, being more flexible was one of the better things he could write on her. It would be like a super power. She didn't want to either overly encourage him or discourage him.
"Maybe later," he said. "Could be fun to try out a few new positions, but right now it's still too fun watching you struggle."
Susan rolled her eyes, but went back to trying to lick herself, until a growing pressure, one she'd been feeling for a while but suddenly kicked up intensity, made her turn over and crawl on her hands and knees. She needed to go pee.
When she made it to the bathroom, she frowned and realized that Keith had closed the door on the way out. She looked back at him, but he was watching her with a curious interest, and he'd be pissed if she used her hands to open the door. So instead, she summoned up a whine from the back of her throat, like a dog who wanted something urgently. It wasn't quite that bad yet, but probably it would be in a few minutes.
Keith stood up and slowly moved towards her, a smirk on his face. "Shouldn't you be scratching at the door to the backyard?" he asked. "That's what dogs do."
She stared at him with a pleading look. The backyard? That would be so embarrassing, and maybe messy too if she had to do it like a dog, which she'd never tried before. But especially embarrassing, and worse, dangerous if anybody actually did see. How could he ask her to do that?
It turned out, he couldn't... or, at least, he wouldn't, yet. "But okay, you've been a good doggy so far, I guess I'll let you be a human in the bathroom." He opened the door and stepped out of her way, and Susan took him literally. When she crossed into the bathroom, she stood up and closed the door, then sat down on the toilet. She did have to pee, but why waste the chance to use her fingers and get more of that delicious cum her addiction told her that she still needed.
After she finished relieving herself, she washed, opened the door, and got on her hands and knees again to walk out. Keith smiled at her over the arm of the couch, then patted his side, out of her view, but loud enough that she could hear it. "Come on, girl."
She rushed, as best as she could not actually having four legs, and hopped up on the couch beside him. He continued to pat his side, and tentatively, she leaned against him, then lay against him, as he put his arm around her and stroked her gently. "Good girl," he said. "Let's watch some TV."
Except for the sex, being a dog was largely a pain, but this... she liked this, snuggled up against her big brother, watching TV. She felt... loved. Maybe it was the way his fingers played along her skin, like even when he was distracted he wasn't willing to let her go... or maybe it was that he turned on Nickelodeon, and they watched shows she liked but he, supposedly, didn't. Why do that, except because, even as a jerk, he still wanted to make her happy, like she'd made him happy? And that didn't just feel good, it felt warm and safe. For that feeling, and of course, for the sex, it would be worth being a dog. She could keep her mouth shut for that.
When she returned to her room, she decided she would write about this moment in the story she was writing about her experience, to never forget that he loved her. Or she might, if she got the chance. If Keith made her give herself over to being a pet as well a fuck toy, that might become impossible. Dogs don't write, after all.
The thought scared her, but so did the knowledge that, this, too, she could probably accept, if it meant the rest came along with it. It was like she was being simplified, reduced, from a person with dreams, hobbies, and conflicting opinions on things, into something that only existed for pleasure, hers, yes, but most importantly, somebody else's. There was something alluring in that, too. She had already enjoyed her transformation into fuck toy... maybe all those extra things, they were just clutter, getting in the way of her true role in life. Maybe she was wrong to want them.
It didn't stop her from actually doing so, though... she wanted her freedom and to be able to speak, and not give up the orgasms Keith had been giving her either... but she could do without freedom for a while, anyway. She could lay with her brother and be his faithful dog.
After about an hour of TV, Susan felt Keith shift beneath her, followed by him standing up so abruptly that she fell to the couch. "Okay, that's enough television." He tugged on her collar, and led her to the kitchen, still walking on her hands and knees. "Still hungry?" She nodded, a little warily. "Well, you've been a good dog, so I think I can give you a treat." He dropped the leash. "Stay." She did, and sat on her hind legs, watching as he prepared what looked like another sandwich. She waited eagerly. If she had a tail, she knew she'd be wagging it right now.
It didn't take long... he didn't make her exactly what he made for herself, but a far simpler version that at least wasn't something you'd feed a dog... a grilled cheese sandwich. But she liked those well enough, even if only Dad had ever cooked them for her before. When he was done, he put it in a shallow bowl and said, "Sorry, I finished all the bacon myself." Susan brightened that he actually apologized... it was uncharacteristically nice, but maybe it was jerky enough to hog all the bacon in the first place that apologizing over it still satisfied the marker. Or maybe he remained a jerk by how he gave it to her. "You want?" he asked, keeping it just out of her reach.
She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself, and barked. "What's that?" She barked again. Then she realized, and so she sat on her hind legs and pulled her arms up and her fists balled up under her chin, making whimpering sounds, begging like a dog. "Okay, here you go," and put the sandwich on the ground.
That was when she realized how much of a jerk he still was. How was she supposed to eat a sandwich without using her hands, particularly a gooey one that stuck together. She looked down at it, then up at Keith, but her eye caught on the fridge behind him. There was a magnet on it that said "Don't Just Complain About Problems, Find Solutions! Think outside the box." Mom had brought it home from work one day a couple months ago as some kind of motivational saying... it seemed like good advice, especially now. She couldn't trust her brother to help, so she had to try and find a solution. After a moment's thought she scooted over to the bowl on her belly and bit into one corner, trying to take a small piece and lift it over the edge. Once it hung over, she figured she could take small bites.
Her plan didn't work... her first few tries when she tugged on the sandwich with her teeth it would just tear off edges of bread, and when she finally got a good grip and pulled, she pulled too hard... the whole sandwich moved and the bowl clattered as it overbalanced one end.
Her brother's hands ruffled her hair. "Okay, you know what, I don't want you making a mess on the floor, and I've got other things to do, so until I say otherwise, you can walk and use your hands again." Having Keith solve her problem wasn't exactly thinking outside the box, but considering he was the one who caused the problem in the first place, she wasn't going to beat herself up over it. Before she could grab the sandwich, Keith bent down at his knees, grabbed the leash, and followed it with his hands to her collar, gave it a tug. "But you keep this on, you understand? So you understand who you belong to." Susan nodded, savoring the idea, that she belonged to him. Her brother wouldn't make such a claim on something he didn't want, right? "And no clothes, and no talking. Otherwise, you can do what you want."
He dropped the leash, stood, and left the room, just like that.
Susan remained sitting on the floor for a few seconds, then picked up the sandwich with her hands. She waited at first, looking back to see if her brother would come and change his mind, but when she heard him going up the stairs, she leaned in and took a bite. It was probably one of the best examples of grilled cheese she'd had, the light crunch of the bread when her mouth closed over it somehow still managing to ooze butter, and then reaching the savory, gooey cheese inside. The only thing that might have made it better was bacon, and maybe apples, though she still wasn't sure about that. And maybe some ketchup. She liked ketchup for her grilled cheese.
But then, she could just get it, couldn't she? She realized that despite the fact that she'd been given the freedom to do what she wanted, she still felt constrained. She was, after all, still sitting on the cold floor, like a dog, butt naked with a collar on her. The last two, she might not have been able to do anything about, not without violating her brother's orders and risking his wrath and, perhaps, another unwelcome enforced change from the magic marker, but she could still sit like a person and eat off a plate rather than a bowl, with ketchup and keep a little bit of dignity.
Dignity, it had seemed, was no longer something she cared much about. When you've lost so much of it, it just seems crazy to spend so much energy holding on to the rest. Maybe it'd even be better to go all the way and give it up rather than have it taken away... if she got up and sat at the table and act like a person, maybe that would just make it harder the next time her brother decided to take that right away from her.
She compromised and sat cross-legged on the floor, which was more comfortable and certainly not something she'd ever seen a dog do, and with the bowl in her lap. Now if she could just get something in her ass...
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