Delilah's Dog Days

The forceful opening of the kennel gate slammed the swinging gate and rattled the metal cage enough to startle Delilah awake. Everything hurt as she jolted her head up, felt a pang of soreness in her neck, and flopped back onto the bed as she heard Matthew faintly speaking but couldn't quite make it out at first as her consciousness fully woke up.

"...-day and you'll get to go home, as agreed. Are you listening, pet?" He asks as he leans in to wrap his arm around thigh at the joint of her right leg and drag her out of the cage and deposit her on the floor of his bedroom. Soft wheezes escaped her open muzzle as Matthew speaks up again. "Do I need to try that again, Bitch? You look pretty out of it." He says condescendingly as he crouches down, slowly rubbing his hand down her side and making her muscles ache under the pressure. "Though, I should hardly be surprised. Daily posture training takes it out of most new pets. You're not special in that regard. The only difference is you're so willing to pick yourself back up and keep trying for me. Good Bitch."

Delilah groaned as his hand reached the back of her fake ears, scratching her scalp through the hood which provided some welcome relief from the compression of the head wrap beneath it. A gentle nod and whine from her tried to placate him but her thoughts were screaming inside.

What else am I supposed to do? If I don't obey, you'll punish me. If I keep disobeying, you'll ruin my life. All I can do is do what you say and even then you make Whiskey fuck me or inflate my plug or make me cum with a rough fingering... it's not fair!

But none of her thoughts are said aloud, none are even held onto for very long as she pushes her head back into his rubbing hand to try and get some more soothing satisfaction from the scratching. She hated that she had to resort to relying on him for anything but the general ache under the suit had grown considerably in the intervening days since he'd put her in the suit and trained her relentlessly. But now, she was pretty sure it was the weekend, especially since he wasn't already dragging her out for a morning "walk" before breakfast.

"But, it's Saturday finally. So... we'll get you out of your suit, give you a change of clothes to go home in, and I will have you back here Sunday evening for dinner and bed. Ready, pet?"

Delilah could not have been more ready than if she'd spent all week waiting for this moment as Matthew stands and offers no additional help as he meanders out of the bedroom towards the stairs. She flushes red and understands his intention. She had to earn every ounce of freedom he gave her. Awkwardly, she pushes herself up with an elbow, gets her knees down flat, and wobbles upright and starts crawling immediately. A week of doing this every day ad for hours had trained her well and she was forced, even begrudgingly, to admit she had gotten better at it.

The difficult part was the stairs. But she had found that by turning around and going backwards she had some success with blindly working herself down, her larger knee pads absorbing her weight well as she tilted forward to keep herself from sliding all the way down in a painful, dangerous fashion. Matthew had been kind and caught her the first few times as she learned to do this herself. He'd stopped helping her once she began to get used to it. At the bottom of the stairs, she crawls towards the front door to follow Matthew before pausing and looking back towards the back patio door, wondering where Whiskey was. Presumably outside.

It doesn't matter where he is right now, what matters is getting the fuck out of here!

Delilah fixed her eyes on the front door as Matthew opened it and led the way outside, scooping up a small bundle on his way out. She wobbled her way out, tail "wagging" from the effort and making her wince each time it shifted her plug a bit too far inside her but her mind was set on getting out. So set, in fact, that it wasn't until she came to a halt at the end of the lawn, just shy of the walkway to the pedestrian gate, that she realized there might be a slight problem to being released. And as Matthew turned to face her and dropped that bundle, which turned out to be her clothes, she knew he had the same thought as her.

"That's right, Bitch. You know the rules. No clothes for pets in my home. We'll strip you out of that suit, push you out the gate, and then see you back here Sunday. Come on, head down..."

Delilah shivered as he spoke so calmly and clearly, matter-of-fact, direct. She squeezed her fists tight under her suit and bowed her head down as directed as Matthew came over to her, nervously sweating as she felt him kneel beside her and lay one hand on her lower back.

"Relax-" She gets only as long as it takes for the hissing of the plug tail to indicate it had fully deflated before a sharp yank from Matthew robs it from her ass. "And breathe."

"Hhhnaaaaahhhh..." Delilah lets out a low, pained gasp as she gets her plug out and a rush of euphoria runs through her brain when she draws a slow breath. It was always a relief to have him remove it when it was time for her to use the lawn. It was more of a relief knowing it wasn't going right back in.

Matthew moves on with removing her fur as he finds the zipper for her suit underneath the small pocket at the base of her spine, right above the open oval exposing her privates and buttocks. He slips it free and makes an intentionally slow effort of drawing it open as the stretched material peels away from her skin, the release of pressure making her sigh as it felt like every inch of her could relax again as the suit was drawn open and Matthew pulled it down as he slipped his hands under her jaw to unclip her mask and peel her skull cap off. He pushed down with some force and the suit slipped free.

"GGwuh!" Delilah grunted involuntarily as her limbs sprung loose of their bindings as the bitchsuit crumpled beneath her, utterly nude except for the loose mask on her face held on only by un-clasped straps and her teeth biting on the rubber gag ring in her mouth and the head wrap binding all of her hair close enough to fit under the puppy hood. She shivers as fresh air runs over her skin. The suit may have been ventilated and breathable enough that she could dry out and live in it fairly safely, but the majority of sensation being robbed of her was terribly disorienting in a way she could not describe and having all of her skin exposed again was a delight.

"I'd considered giving you a bath before sending you home, but I imagine you'll take a shower anyway." Matthew says patiently as he works to unbind the head wrap, peeling it loose as the last bit of compression loosens on Delilah's body and a weak, thankful sigh escapes her lips as the wrap is set in the grass beside her and Matthew carefully draws the mask from her mouth. He pats her underneath her chin and draws her face and eyes up to meet his. He was smiling. "Good girl. I'll see you tomorrow night. Rest well, Bitch."

Matthew lifts a hand and claps it onto her bare buttocks, making Delilah yelp as she felt her buttocks jiggle with far more freedom than before; the suit even modified how she experienced pain. She crawls forward in a hurry and scoops up her clothes in an awkward one-armed bundle before crawling to the gate and pushing on it. It opens with ease and with Matthew doing nothing to stop her she crawls right out onto the sidewalk completely naked before the 18-year-old realized she could stand again. She does so, with some difficulty, and pauses as she takes her first step to look down at her slightly-pink skin. Her naked pink skin.

"EEP!"

Delilah steps out of the shower in her bedroom, genuinely thankful for a hot shower but found herself nervously looking around for Matthew or Whiskey to come "correct" her for doing something un-doglike such as showering or standing up. She walks over to the mirror as she steals a towel from her towel rod and wipes off the fog from the mirror and leans forward, resting her elbow on the countertop as she reaches out to touch her reflection.

I haven't... seen myself all week... Matthew has mirrors in the house, a lot of them placed in such a way that I can't miss them, like the one in the hallway or by the kitchen... but... but I've had my mask on the whole time. I looked like a dog... I was beginning to feel... She shakes her head and runs her hand up her cheek and through her hair as another blush turns her face red. Her fingers stopped feeling hair after only a few inches as her black-dyed hair had been completely cut at the barber's. She smiles weakly as she was completely brunette again and sighs. I did it for me. I was done with the black hair... I wanted it natural. No other reason. Life was fine.

She brings her towel up and starts running it through her new neck-length hair, hanging barely as low as her ears and worked her soft, fuzzy towel over herself as she turned away from the mirror and let her hands linger on her bare skin. It feels... different now. I'm all soft and stuff... I wonder if that soap Matthew uses on the suit soaks through and like... moisturizes? It does a treat, whatever it is. She muses as she hangs up her towel and walks straight into her bedroom, going for her clothing closet which was still missing a few articles that Matthew hadn't returned from her last time returning on Sunday. She hadn't gotten orders to bring another collection of clothes, so maybe he thought just one week's worth of clothing was enough to sell the ruse that she wasn't being kept in a tight bitchsuit all week.

"O-oh! Sorry, Delilah!"

Delilah perks up as she leans back from her closet and sees her father turned around in her doorway, clearing having intended to come see her and got... surprised? Delilah's eyes snap down and she realizes she was as naked as the day he held her for the first time in the hospital and blushes, darting into her closet and apologizing. "S-sorry, dad! Give me a moment!"

She picks out a quick combination of red panties, black skirt, and a polka-dot red and white shirt, forgoing a bra as she wasn't expecting to go anywhere before poking her head out of the closet. "Decent!"

Thomas Chanson turns back around but doesn't venture any further into her room, clearly a bit surprised still at his now-grown daughter just milling about in her room nude. "Sorry, Delilah. I should have knocked." He mumbles as she makes her way over towards him, stopping a few paces short.

Delilah freezes for a moment as she leaned forward a bit, her right knee starting to bend before shaking herself and standing fully upright. Why were you going to... kneel? What was that? "No problem, dad. I should have had a towel or something. What's up?"

Thomas eyes her carefully for a moment before answering slowly. "You... well, I wanted to ask about Orem and your time there. Your mother filled me in, said she spoke with the man. Charismatic, she said."

Delilah fought back a scoff. If dad gets a whiff of what's going on, he's gonna get me in trouble with Matthew! Not to mention the kind of damage that'll cause the family business and our name! I can't do that to him... Delilah forces herself to smile and waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I bet she'd say so. No, the gentleman there is Whiskey, his dog? The one I went to- the one I'm dog-sitting? He's a good boy and is so much f-fun to spend time with."

Thomas nods slowly, his eyes searching for some kind of explanation or indication in Delilah's face but clearly fails to find what he's looking for. "R-right. And you're getting your studies and preparation all done? That's part of the deal this summer, remember?"

The short-haired brunette bites her tongue for a second as she gives her dad a pleasant smile. Shit! I'd... almost completely forgotten. No, he's not making me study for college but I'm- "Don't worry dad, I'm learning all kinds of things, both from my books and Mas-iiisssster Orem. He's been a good host."

"Hn. Well... that's good, I suppose. Maybe we should come by some time, see how he's getting on. Would you-"

"NO!"

Delilah and Thomas shared an awkward heartbeat after her interrupting outburst before she continued.

"N-no, I wouldn't want to tr-trouble you two, and it'd kind of impose on Matthew. I'm already staying there all week, we've bothered him enough. D-does that make sense?" Delilah fidgets as she hopes that was enough to convince her father who, to her eye, was asking all sorts of questions with his expression.

"I... suppose that's fair." He responded. To Delilah, he sounded unconvinced. He reaches out slowly and she almost flinches but he just brushes his hand under her earlobe, touching the ends of her brunette hair. "I didn't think you'd cut it so short... but it's nice to see your natural colors again."

Delilah blushes red as she nods, sucking in a shaky breath and reaches up to squeeze her dad's hand. "Y-yeah, I've just been feeling very natural lately, so I thought it was time for a change. Plus! It's so hot when I go out with Whiskey, I wanted to keep a little cooler, you know?" The man nods slowly, still eyeing his daughter before she pipes up one more time. "W-was... did you need anything else?"

Thomas shakes his head slowly as he drops his hand to his side and smiles. "No, that's all for now. Thanks for, well, doing your best, Delilah. Your mother and I are glad to see you coming home a lot more... well, relaxed, almost. We haven't really had any fights since... well, we're glad to see you. Dinner at seven?"

The teen nodded once as she put her hand on her bedroom door. "I'll see you at the dinner table!" And she closes the door and presses her back to it, sliding down as her forehead rests in her hands and she exhales a breath she hadn't been able to let out since Thomas spotted her nude. "Thank fuck he didn't... shit, dinner's going to be so awkward. I've gotta think up some lies quick or they're gonna come over and see me like that. Matthew would fucking love to show me off, the bastard."

Delilah let herself catch her breath after the heart-racing exchange with her father and stands, only to feel a slight wince and looks down. She bites her lip and slides her hand down to her skirt and dips beneath it, touching the crotch of her panties to find a faint dampness there. Her mind spun in a slow circle as she ran through a number of reasons why it would be wet. She slips her hand out and it comes up clean.

It's not blood... that's good, not that time, I just got out of the shower, so that's probably what it is. She cautiously brings her hand up and licks it. The faintly sour taste was not water. Her face glowed red. Why? WHY? Is... was it dad seeing me naked? Was it trying to lie to him? Was it... She looks out her bedroom window, offering her a view of the neighborhood and, coincidentally, in the direction of Matthew's home even if she couldn't see it from here. It was the thought of him... showing me off... wasn't it? That's... Her hand slowly, subconsciously even, slides back down to press onto her skirt and made herself shiver. That's exactly what it was... what's happening to me...?