Delilah's Dog Days

Delilah took long, slow, and shuddering breaths as she heard Whiskey whine and rumble seemingly very happy. She hoped he was satisfied, as his knot was still filling her mouth. Her stomach felt terrible, a stirring, roiling mess as it was forced to accept his seed drip by endless drip. She wanted so badly to throw up but knew that doing so would only drown her. Instead, she had to learn on the fly how to resist her gag reflex and it was proving far harder than she would like. Any time he twitched, shifted position to get more comfortable, or if there was an unexpected gush from his loins, she would jolt and her entire chest would seize up but she somehow managed to bite it all down and keep herself breathing.

Maybe... it was that one... basketball player... a couple summers ago... he had a long dick... he liked... deepthroating... although, he was a one-pump-dump at a party... and Whiskey is- Delilah's reminiscing of her past fades away as she lets herself look up at the canine still seated in front of her, her vision pretty limited and really only offering a view of his furred ballsack and hind legs. Curiously, though she didn't realize it, instead of reacting poorly her body relaxed at the sight. And at least he didn't smell like a dog... I'll never take fresh air for granted again.

Delilah wasn't entirely wrong, as each inhale was drawing so much of Whiskey's scent into her lungs, she was all but breathing the dog in. His fluids and his scent were invading every part of her, inside and out. Her salivary glands were still functioning as there was a throbbing, pulsing piece of meat laying over them and occasionally Delilah would have to push what air she could forward to spit it out, spraying up and out of her rubber mask and just causing it to drool "up" over her eyes and forehead; Whiskey had her neck craned back and her laying on her back, where else was all that saliva supposed to go once it was out? But it was better than trying to swallow it down, that would only make her choke and gag harder. So Delilah was forced to merely lay back, drool all over her own face, and accept each continual spurt of canine cum that Whiskey pushed down her throat.

After what felt like hours, and frankly it might have been, Delilah suddenly realized her tongue had a bit more space to move around inside her mouth! She tentatively raised her tongue and moved it to the side before immediately regretting that as she was now cleaning a largely untouched side of Whiskey's knot but it was proof it was shrinking.

Good! Shrink just a little more... and I can get him past that stupid rubber ring! He'll be out and I can breathe normally again!

Tortuously slowly, Delilah waited with anticipation as Whiskey's knot gradually deflated. The dog seemed to notice he was done too as he started to shift and wiggle a bit more, his cock shrinking inside her throat as his arousal was spent. The knot finally shrank enough that it started to wiggle its way out of the rubber gag in Delilah's mouth and when he heard the patio door slide open Whiskey suddenly leapt up and yanked his cock out with a perverse, wet, schloor-pop.

Delilah jolted at her "mate's" sudden exit, his cock tearing out of her throat immediately activated her gag reflex and him forcefully tugging his knot out of the ring gag inside her mask naturally dragged Delilah a few inches along the grass and brought her head up off of the lawn. And the moment his prick was out of her canine-stained mouth, her first inhale of air was immediately stopped by a grotesque retching as she lurched to the side and promptly vomited onto the grass. Delilah's diaphragm seized as her stomach pumped what felt like liters of dog spunk out of itself, up her throat, through her mouth, and out of her rubber canine mask and onto the lawn. Covered in her own slobber, Delilah could barely see and was stuck rolled onto her side as she spewed the thin, silky white ooze from her gut onto the grass. She sucked in pained, stinging breaths between retches and slowly got herself onto her knees and tried to keep her vomit off of herself but it was more a matter of letting her body remove what it clearly identified as a foreign fluid. Already, the rubber mask on her face was coated with the cum-vomit, the inside of the firm snout slick with the stuff and reeking of her innards. She wanted to gag and throw up again but didn't have much left to throw up after such a violent removal of her stomach's contents.

Heaving and panting heavily as she reached a hand up to wipe her eyes clean of all the saliva on them. She flinched as her hand was still covered in that mitten which gave her hand a leathery feel that she hadn't been expecting. But as she wiped her eyes clear she looks up with a heaving chest to see Matthew wandering over with a bucket and a water bottle in his hands. Whiskey was happily trotting at his side as if he hadn't just destroyed Delilah's throat and flooded her stomach with his seed.

Bastards... both of them! Delilah thought to herself as she leaned forward to tip more of her vomit out of the mask and heave again, that cum-stained mask turning it into a truly guttural, animalistic noise.

"Messy little thing, aren't you Bitch?" Matthew taunted as he stood a few paces away from her, keeping out of spitting range of her gagged-open mouth. He sets the bucket down with a thunk before sending Whiskey off to his nearest bed and leaves him alone with his human pet. He lifts and waggles the water bottle at her as she weakly looks up at him. "We'll give you a drink and then begin your walking training. After all... you're only here for a couple months, I'm not wasting a day. You'll train, practice, and learn until you drop." He steps forward quickly, making Delilah emit a panicked yelp as he catches the back of her head and grips her hair tight to yank her head up, making her groan in pain as he opens the bottle with his other hand and tips it towards her rubber canine mouth. "Drink. Swish it around, spit it out... three times and then you can swallow." He orders, telling her how to drink water.

Is he... does he think I'm that stupid? I can drink-

Delilah promptly sputters and gasps in pain as water goes down the wrong pipe and she hunches forward to cough and seize, just for Matthew to yank her head back again as she squeaked through the mask.

"Learn our lesson? You sure are a rebellious little one. Do as your master says next time, Bitch. Swish and spit, your mouth and throat need a quick cleanout." He redirects her and holds her head back again, the gag-mask keeping her mouth wide open for him to pour a second dose of water into it and this time Delilah braces herself and keeps the water from pouring straight down her throat. He tilts her forward slightly and she makes an effort to swish and swirl the water around before bending her head forward and letting the water drain out and onto the lawn. He repeats the process a few times, making Delilah swish the water around and spew it out before finally letting her drink. He gives her three full mouthfuls before the bottle was empty and he goes for the bucket, producing a wet washcloth which he uses to quickly tidy up her mask, inside and out, and continues by wiping her face clean.

It's cold... but after all that mouth-fucking... all of that knotting and letting Whiskey soak my stomach with cum... a cold cloth feels so good... Delilah thinks to herself as her panting and huffing echoed out of the rubber dog mask. Once Matthew released her hair she sank down, drooping her head and trying to catch her breath after the misery of warming Whiskey's cock with her throat. Right up until she lets out a surprised yelp as that cold cloth presses firmly to her cunt.

"I see most of that cleaning pouch dissolved properly. Should do a good job of cleaning you up and making sure you don't get infected with anything... we'll do those regularly from now on. Get used to them." Matthew explains as he begins to rub and scrape her stubbly pussy clean. The few days since she'd taken the time to shave her loins in preparation for a raunchy summer had left her with a thin patch of hairs. And with him dipping the rag into her folds, Delilah squirmed and whined through her open mouth. It was, despite the discomfort, a certain relief compared to the endless fizzing and expanding of the cleansing packet. But she was supposed to get one of those regularly?

Use them regularly because that blonde vet told you off, bastard. Delilah, of course, couldn't voice her backtalk but the thought of it did make her smile beneath the mask. At least, as much as that infernal rubber ring allowed her to smile.

Finally finished with her slit, Matthew tosses the rag back into the bucket and stands over Delilah, looking down at her as she blinks away the last bit of water and avoids his gaze. "There? Isn't that better? In future, you'll be expected to groom yourself after pleasing your mate. Though... if you do your job properly, there won't be nearly as much vomit." Matthew's voice was, as ever, bordering on smug as he warned her of what was to come with the subtext of what he said. But he doesn't give her any time to ponder it. "Whiskey! Fetch!" He suddenly hollers while pointing at a small object under the patio. Whiskey, trained as he was and obedient as he sometimes chose to be, got up from where he had been observing Delilah get rinsed off and trots over to the patio, grabs the indicated item, and brings it to Matthew with a wagging tail and a yip of excitement. Matthew accepts the object and produces a dog snack from his pocket before sending Whiskey back off to a safe observing distance.

Delilah gets a good look as Matthew holds it in front of her. It was a retracting dog leash, like you'd see at any generic pet store. And Matthew's grin as he knelt down to clip it to her collar really told her that Delilah wasn't getting any rest yet.

"If you're going to be my pet, Bitch, you need to learn to walk properly. We can't be having you hobble about and barely keep up. That means practice." He explains as he stands up again and lets the leash spool out and run slack for a moment before pushing a button caused it to retract rapidly. The thin rope snapped against the underside of Delilah's chin, catching her in the mask and forcing her to look up as Matthew tugged upwards. "For the first lap of the yard, no restrictions. Walk, like a good bitch should. On all fours. Do your best to keep your head up and alert. We'll do one lap, see where your weak points are. Today is just walking form. We can handle commands and behaviors later." Matthew says, but his tone was what had Delilah enraptured.

He's... treating this like real dog training. He's being so casual about this... fuck why is that making it hotter? Why can't my stupid pussy behave and not like it when he talks down to me like this? Delilah fumed beneath her mask as, indeed, her folds glistened with her own arousal as Matthew turned and gave the leash a flick, snapping it against her cheek this time to get her attention.

"Walk, Bitch." He orders as he waits for her to move.

Though she ached from all the time on her hands and knees over the last few days, Delilah at least had her breath back after choking down air around Whiskey's cock for what could have been an hour or more. But, tired as she was, Matthew's stare wasn't going anywhere. Delilah took a quick look around the house's back yard. A fairly sizable space ringed by a tall privacy fence, she was familiar with the space but hadn't really considered how big it was. Complete with the pool, the back yard must have been a good hundred feet across and something similar deep. Crawling around it would take a while. But Matthew had said a lap...

Tentatively, Delilah reaches a hand out and presses it to the grass and leans her weight on the rubber puck inside her glove. It carried her weight easily and Matthew seemed pleased she could move so she did it again. And again, and again. With her hands moving, her knees needed to come along too. Tiredly, she dragged each padded knee forward which got a light "tsk" from the man but no verbal comments yet. Delilah quivered as each awkward lift, drag, and press of her knees caused her rectum to clench and squeeze around the butt plug buried in her asshole and shivered at the ticklish sensation of her fluffy dog tail waving back and forth against the backs of her thighs. She led the way with Matthew slowly walking beside her as she bee-lined across the lawn to the nearest fence line and crawled along it, heading to the rear part of the yard where she followed the edge of the grass. Around the perimeter of Matthew's back yard was a simple gravel path with small pebbles and a firm underlayer. She tried to avoid it as she knew it'd tear her feet up dragging along it. She worked her way forward until she got to the edge of the pool deck where the grass ended. Once there, she started trying to lift her knees and feet a bit more but her exhaustion made that a far more difficult task than she wanted to admit. Her walking path brought her around the far end of the pool and up against the corner of the house where she made it under the overhang of the patio. Whiskey, who had been patiently waiting and watching as Delilah crawled on all fours like a dog, finally invited himself into the task as they went out from under the shade of the patio overhang and Matthew didn't correct the canine. The furred boy brushed up alongside Delilah, tickling her with all of his fur and making her wobble to the side but she managed to keep from fully toppling over. The three of them made their way alongside the back of the house, back into the grass, and again to the fence before Matthew finally pulled the slack out of the wind-up dog leash and gave it a tug to bring her to a halt.

"Enough, take a break. Sit." He said calmly as Delilah panted heavily through her dog mask.

She shivered at the tone in his voice. He sounds like my dad when he's disappointed about a work thing... he never used anything like that on me growing up... he never had the time. Obediently, perhaps out of subconscious fear of being punished, Delilah sank back on her knees and sat up on her haunches. She put her toes down into the grass, rested her sensitive ass on her heels, and pressed her gloved hands into the lawn between her knees as she looked up at Matthew for an indication of what was next. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts while also Whiskey took the command for himself, sitting down promptly right beside the huffing human pet.

"Sloppy and slow, Bitch. You'll need to pick up the pace. But that won't happen until you get your form corrected." He starts with a blunt assessment. Delilah blushes and wants to spit back a retort but all that comes out are more canine-like grunts and whines. "We're going to take another lap and this time you're going to keep your feet off the ground."

Delilah's eyes widened in confused shock as she looked up at him again. What!? How the hell am I supposed to do that!? She said, but all that Matthew heard was, "Huah! Hah-ha-hoeu-shupposh-dho-dhah!?" He didn't even deign to answer her question and instead stepped forward to press his hand on top of her head, tilting her forward while she sat.

"Fore paws back out, Bitch. You've caught your breath, another lap, get ready." He commands as Delilah shakes her head and squirms against his touch. He tips her all the way forward, dragging her hands out as she gets back on her knees and looks behind her and again realizes the insanity of her situation.

Naked, collared and leashed, her mouth held open by this canine-approximating rubber mask covering half of her face, her stomach still aching and queasy from being made to take load after load of Whiskey's cum, the same Whiskey sitting beside her and eagerly watching her progress. She looked back and saw her tail, her tail, swish side to side as she wiggled and tried to get her knees back out underneath her and the thick foam and rubber pads covering those knees and raised her bare ass up a bit thanks to the thickness of those pads. She let out a hollow, shuddering gasp as Matthew clapped a hand on her exposed buttock and slid his hand down her thigh, over the crook of her knee, and up to her ankle which he grabbed and tugged upwards, pressing her heel to her ass.

"Do your best to keep the feet up, Bitch. I won't be helping you but we will be walking on the gravel track around the yard. I think you'll find it more comfortable to keep your skin from dragging across it." He releases her ankle and Delilah wobbles, certainly unsteady on just her hands and knees without her feet to help stabilize her.

Wait, on the grav-

Spank!

Matthew claps his hand across her ass cheeks again, stabbing the plug in her bottom into her rectum and making Delilah let out a loud canine-sounding yelp. "Walk!" He orders, making Delilah start scrambling forward out of fear of additional pain. The man had proven he could and would manhandle her with ease. She wasn't keen to experience it again.

Hobbling forward while trying to keep her feet up, Delilah shivered as this extra tightness of her muscles clamped on the butt plug Matthew had re-seated by spanking it. Whiskey got up and began to trot alongside her but thankfully Matthew called the dog to heel and the girl was left to figure out how to crawl like this before reaching the gravel track. She walked on quivering, tired arms and took her first tentative step with her mitten-covered hand and heard the gravel crunch under her weight. Her hands pulled her along until she took her first "step" with her right knee, the soft padding preventing her from feeling any discomfort in her kneecap.

Okay... okay... I can do this... just... keep those... keep your feet up... if you don't, he'll spank you and your feet will just get all bumped up by the gravel... just keep going...

Delilah's mental reinforcement was all she had going for her as the crawling continued. Exhausted, she dragged herself along and managed, somehow, to keep her feet off the ground until they stepped off the gravel track and underneath the patio overhang where she stopped and deflated, sagging in place as her elbows bowed out and her feet plapped against the concrete patio. She huffed heavily, panting and drooling out of her rubber mask as the gag ring held her lips open. Her skin was slick with sweat from all her efforts out in the afternoon sun and she reeked of salt, spunk, and vomit. She felt awful but Matthew spoke before she could fully catch her breath.

"Tired? Seems like good proof that I've been letting you relax on your walking, Bitch." He says as he gathers her hair up into a ponytail-handle and brings her face up from staring at the ground to blinking away sweat and tears and trying to look him in the eye. "But you're not done. Remember, Bitch? Until... you... drop. Or we can end this whole charade, send off all the cute recordings from today of your throat getting knotted by that lovely Shepherd there, and call your life over. Do you want that?"

He can't! No! Why... why won't he just be nice! I'm trying! Delilah frantically shook her head as she refused to let all her suffering to now be for nothing. She just had to push through. Growling as best she could, she tried to shake herself free of his grip and felt a surge of desperate energy as she brought her feet back up off the ground and resumed crawling. She faintly heard a mocking chuckle from Matthew who let the leash fall slack again as he followed after her, clearly watching her bare ass wobble and sway with each awkward step of her knees.

Matthew continued to drive Delilah on, taunting or threatening her as needed, and the pair completed two more full laps of the yard until she collapsed from exhaustion on what was her fifth lap. She had taken all sorts of tumbles and falls as her limbs failed her, each lap had been slower than the last, but she was growing more confident in her stride. But the final lap was the most painful as she tried to take a slightly too-far step and her arms caved beneath her, sending her face and chest first into the gravel. A pained groan escaped her as she skidded under her own weight, her rubber chin and bare chest grinding through the gravel. Tears rolled out of her eyes as she tried to get her arms back underneath her but she just couldn't. Matthew's steps in the gravel behind her thudded in her ears like snare drums but when he touched her it was gentle.

"Good effort, Bitch. Most girls like you manage two laps and collapse... but you almost got through five. I think that's enough for today. Come here-"

Delilah flushed as he praised her but a surprised yelp escaped her as Matthew slipped an arm underneath one of her legs and the other under her bust, lifting her up sideways as he cradled her across his arms and against his chest, facing away from him as he carried her like a dog that didn't want to finish its walk and go back inside. His right forearm brushed in between her thighs and butted up against her cunt while his hand held her thigh. His left arm went underneath her side and, intentionally or not, rested his hand completely on her right breast as he let the leash handle dangle from her collar and carried her back to the house while she grunted and whined from the awkward, and rather humiliating, carrying position. And, as she rocked and jostled in his grip, she squirmed and tried to hide the fact that his arm rubbing against her pussy was making it drool. Or was it just the humiliation of being carried like this, her entire body on display and horizontal in his grasp? Too subhuman to even walk inside a house...

Once indoors, Matthew plopped her on the floor of the kitchen and refilled her and Whiskey's water bowl before heading off upstairs. While the canine lapped away at the dish Delilah just needed some time to sit and breathe. Drenched in sweat and choking back sobs, Delilah weakly tapped her gloved hands against the tiled floor as she lay in a defeated heap until finally gathering the strength to get up and dip her mask into the water bowl. It was deep enough for her to sink into it and lap at the water with her tongue through the ring gag. It was frosty cold and deeply refreshing after the exhaustion of navigating the back yard on her hands and knees. But even as she awkwardly drank alongside her furred fuck-buddy, Delilah felt that shameful tingling sensation in her loins again.

Why... why do I keep feeling this way? Why does being treated... like his dog... make me so... She shook her head, flicking water every which way as she chased away the thoughts. He's a bastard. My body is doing this on reflex. It doesn't mean anything!

Sinking back into her water bowl, Delilah lapped away slowly, unwilling to let herself ponder any longer while ignoring the glistening drops of pussy juice rolling down her thighs as she sat on the floor on her hands and knees. Naked, plugged, collared, masked and gagged, and right beside the very same dog that had knotted her mouth and pumped her stomach with his seed.