Collared & Leashed

Lenore

Lenore

Wow! Nancy is good. Before me is this little guy Willie completely painted in black and white to resemble a Dalmatian. And that woman from New York with the arm and leg restraints! I must visit her kennel some time.

Well, many guests have arrived and Chloe has returned from the nail parlor and been completely surprised by the back yard gathering. More are expected and in waiting I thought it best to check on our canine entertainment.

So here I stand in the expected attire of our little group....knee-high black leather boots, black thong, skintight bodice. And though Willie’s mask covers all facial expressions, it seems the brevity of my attire makes an impression. Or perhaps it’s the walking stick I hold in my hand.

“Hello, pup,” I graciously greet my leashed friend.

“I want to see the rest of you. Nancy does great work, wouldn’t you agree?”

I step to the washing machine and take the free end of the leash. If Willie realized how easy it is to incapacitate him when bound in latex he would be most concerned. Nancy merely flipped the leather-looped end of the chain once around the drainpipe. No locks, no knots, no clips. But for Willie, there are no fingers. Thus he will require the prehensile assistance of a woman for any freedom of movement this afternoon.

“Up.”

I tug firmly, establishing my authority. The sudden tension brings an abrupt gasp as the collar tightens. Willie is forced to right himself at the waist.

With knees perched on the faux paws and feet drawn up to his hips, he’s about as awkward as a real dog standing on hind legs. Thus my powerful hand grips the chain near his collar to steady him as I stand to his side to enjoy Nancy’s handiwork.

“Goodness. It appears our little doggie is in heat!”

I wish I could see his face as I comment on the massive erection. The Cialis has kicked in with the expected effect on the priapic teenaged male. The appendage is totally beyond his ability to control and I am happy to see he’s uncircumcised. It makes for such an enticing display; the moisture of the smegma causing the purple tip to glisten. And Nancy has comically painted his scrotum such an alluring pink.

I cannot help tapping at the aroused organ with my stick. The flat end is designed to produce a slapping sound, sometimes more of a message for the ears than for the pain receptors.

With my nearness and grip on the leash I feel Willie shudder when I touch his precious male parts. So wonderfully sensitive.

“Can you see your balls, Willie? Nancy has outdone herself. I’ll want you to concentrate on crawling about with those hind paws well parted. Your precious testicles are nicely highlighted for the guests and I’ll want them fully displayed.”

He begins to reply and I tap more firmly. He lurches when the stick nips his balls.

“Dogs don’t talk,” I am forced to remind him.

I release my grip and he lowers himself to all fours.

“Come. You should practice a bit before being presented.”

I tug. He of course follows the straining chain. It’s nice to demonstrate feminine power. I have a naked male on a leash. It’s going to be quite a party.