The Dominant Male

I’ll be putting this collar around your neck, but before I do, I want to make quite sure you understand what it means.’
    He mimed taking it off, then touched her hand and waved his hand over it to negate the meaning.
    ‘Once you put it on, it stays on until you take it off. I am not allowed to, even if I can.’
    ‘Exactly. Now…’ he drew a finger along her lips.
    ‘I’ll not be allowed to speak. I can bark, growl or grizzle like a dog, but no words.’
    ‘There’s a clever bitch! This?’ He took her hand and held it, so it was upright, finger tips touching the bed, then folded it, so the thumb and fingers touched the sheet.
    ‘I’m not allowed to stand upright; I have to stay on all-fours.’
    ‘Correct. This?’ He folded her hand into a fist.
    ‘I must not use my hands like a human uses their finger and thumb, just as a paw.’
    He patted her hand. ‘This?’ He stroked her body down both sides, and then waved a flat hand to negate it.
    ‘I’m not allowed any clothes.’
    ‘This?’ He took her hand and put it over her pubis, then waved the negation. Then over nipples, waved the same way.
    ‘I mustn’t try to hide myself. I’m not allowed modesty or privacy, and I must always show myself fully.
    ‘Last!’ He took her hands and mimed shovelling food into her mouth.
    ‘I have to eat anything and everything that I’m given to eat.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘I guess if I’m ever not sure what to do, I ask myself what a good little puppy would do, then do it, regardless of any other consideration.’
    ‘Excellent, one hundred and ten per cent! Good Bitch!’
    Just as well this is one of my all-time favourite fantasies. I’ve stroked myself to sleep dreaming of something like this countless times , she thought, I wonder if he knew?
    He eased her off the bed into a kneeling position beside it, and buckled the collar around her neck, checking with a finger behind it that it wasn’t too tight.
    ‘Heel!’
    She obediently trotted off, her right shoulder to his left leg.
    He led her to the kitchen, ‘See to her Rodney!’
    Rodney took her lead, ‘Sit!’
    She knelt; he pushed her knees apart with his shoe.
    ‘I’m not allowed to hide my charms,’ she recalled.
    He took an arm and slipped a sort of strange gauntlet over her hand. It went up over her elbow, a sleeve of salmon-pink short fake fur. At the other end was what she recognised as a fist mitt, but dressed up to look like a dog’s paw. On the elbow there was a padded leather patch. Above the elbow it was edged in leather.
    He eased her hand into the mitt, and then tightened something around the wrist, a cable tie perhaps. Then he cut it short with a tool, and eased its ‘buckle’ back into the leather collar that it was enclosed in, so the sharp, cut end was protected.
    He pulled on something, maybe a cable tie again around the top, above the elbow, but this time he slipped a finger under it, presumably to check it was just right, not too tight, or loose. Again he worked the buckle back into the tunnel. Looking closely she saw one end of the tunnel overlapped the other.
    He did the same with the other arm.
    ‘Play Dead!’
    She guessed, and lay on her back, arms and legs out wide.
    ‘There’s a good little bitch!’
    She glowed with pride, though feeling she really ought to be insulted.
    He held a similar garment for a leg – padded leather over the knee, more salmon-pink fake fur, and a dog paw to go over the foot. He eased it on her and secured it in a similar way.
    Rolling her head sideways she saw Minima was tethered to a ring on the wall, by a similar lead and collar. She was wearing similar leggings and gauntlets, but collar, lead and fur were in a slightly reddish-brown chestnut colour that really suited her skin tone.
    He eased the other one onto the other leg and secured it.
    ‘Sit!’
    She took her position. He released Minima from the ring, and had her ‘Sit!’ beside her.
    Then he busied himself on the table and put down two pairs of bowls in front of them. One of the bowls in each pair was clean water. She recognised the contents of the other. They were in a frame that lifted them a few inches into the air.
    ‘Beg, you bitches!
    Elizabeth realised she really didn’t have a choice, though the congealed contents of the doggy-bag from last night’s meal – rice, noodles, bean sprouts, pork, chicken, beef, fish, carrots, in a dozen different sauces, all mixed together – looked disgusting.
    So obediently