BootsTina Marie Holmboe, Oct '95
mailto:tina@ifi.uio.noBOOTS - for inclusion in your story collection, with attribution that it was
from me, with email address. Say anyone interested should join the club &
any lady wanting to play similar games would be assured of a kennel here for a
time.[Stray's note: I don't know the author, and I also don't know what club she
means in this note, otherwise I _would_ note it! ]
She lay there drowsing, eyes closed in the dim light. Her mind drifted over
the possibilities. Would he want her as toy, slave, servant, maid or pure
sex object? Naked, dressed as a man, woman, boy, girl or child? Was she good
enough? Would she please him?Could she give herself so completely? Surrender all to his every whim? She
knew he was demanding. He would force her to reveal herself absolutely. He
would take her to her limits and beyond.It was his choice now. The die was cast. She was committed to accept what
came. To obey or accept the consequences. She trusted him and he had given her a
chance to set limits, but they were wide and his imagination knew few
bounds.She heard him approach and felt the duvet gently lifted from her. The room
was only just warm enough to be comfortable. As she lay there exposed and
naked, her nipples, trained to be ultra-sensitive, stiffened from the
cooler air and she felt the tension rising within her.She followed her instincts. Her eyes remained closed, motionless, awaiting
his first move. She felt the light touch of fingers on her eyelids and
heard the reassuring voice of her lover, "Thatís right pet, eyes tight shut
or youíll spoil the surprise!".Relax as I make you ready. She felt her right arm lifted and the hand slid
into something, a soft mitten? Then something tighter and harder, A
gauntlet, even a boot or shoe? She felt a strap tighten round her wrist.
She heard a zip close and then a click.So Iím to lose the use of my hands she realized, as her left arm was encased
too. So much the better. I donít want responsibility, to have to look after
myself. I welcome helplessness, dependency. I want to be owned, used just
for his pleasure.
The feel of a collar being buckled around her neck, then another click as
something cold and hard was laid at her throat came as no surprise. It
matched her growing realization of the culmination of a long-held daydream
so closely that she felt a further stirring between her legs.
The orders, when they came, sliced through her reverie. Off the bed! Onto
all fours! She scrambled to comply rolling awkwardly onto the floor and
adopting the pose demanded, on her hands and knees, arms straight down from
the shoulder.
No hesitation! she heard as she jumped from pain at her bum. A strap? Her
protest was stilled as she felt the strangely comforting sensation of his
hand stroking out the hurt.
Her only reaction was a muted startled grunt as the implications sank in.
She was helpless as shed never been before and that stroke had really hurt.His hand lingered over her backside, now tracing out the line of the
cheeks, now exploring between them. She tried to keep her composure, as
first one well-greased finger, then another, then three together were
gently, but insistently, inserted into her vagina. Just as she began
almost to enjoy his attention the fingers slipped around to her arsehole.
Slower, gentler this time, one, two, three. Finally she relaxed to accept
and accommodate the impudent intrusion.
Knees up, she heard as she felt the implement he held trace out her
kneecaps. Then the fingers in her arse-hole drew her upwards. She raised
her bum till her back was level and her legs were straight, sloping down to
the floor.
Thatís right, just the way I want you, you little beauty, she heard. The
fingers were withdrawn and she heard, at a guess, a disposable glove being
taken off and thrown away.
One hand returned to cup her mound, a thumb or finger exploring the slit,
as the other caressed her back and mussed-up her hair. She arched her
back, thrust her pubis down and forward snuggling into his straying hands
to show her appreciation. You brazen hussy, he said, chuckling and giving
her a playful pat on the backside.
She felt his nearness, breathed-in his scent and then his arm grazed her
shoulder as he stooped down. She warmed to the momentary contact, hoping
for a reassuring kiss. His hand touched her throat as she heard a soft
click, then felt a gentle tug on her collar.
Walkies! he said as she felt a lead tickle her left cheek. She followed,
conscious of a weight swinging from her collar, feeling her full breasts
dangle and sway with the movements. The nipples were erect she felt but she
realized there was no hope of release unless he allowed it.
The lead caught her left ear and pressed against her cheek. Obedient to the
implied instruction she adjusted her stiff-legged, still awkward gait, to
turn to the right.
Sit! she heard and stopped, unsure of what was required. She felt impatient
hands press her rump down and shoulders back. She collapsed into a kneeling
position, bum on her heels.
He put something through her hair, and around her ears. It felt like she
remembered as a young girl, an alice-band, but heavier. There was
something more, tickling the back of her ears. Then she felt clamps,
perhaps like those of clip-on earrings close on the lobes of her ears.
Her knees were opened by something, a (whip? riding switch?), being
inserted between them. This continued until her thighs were at right
angles. She felt something soft, but strong, gently part her lower lips
and then trace the outline of her triangle and she knew she was open and
vulnerable as never before.
She felt it trace the lines where her legs met her belly. Outline her
thighs. Stroke her belly. Trace her breasts. Circle the nipples. Tickle her
sides, to finally return to explore the triangle, usually hidden but now so
open. Her arms hung straight from her shoulders with her hands, (paws?
hooves?), on the floor either side of her heels.
A hand tenderly lifted her arms to pass some sort of strap or harness
around her body. She felt straps over her shoulders, around below her proud
breasts, a soft click, then sure fingers adjusting buckles until it was
tight.
Open your eyes and look at yourself, he ordered. She saw hed led her around
the bedroom and she now knelt in front of the full-length wardrobe mirror.
As shed expected, a shaped, heavily studded leather collar, like a dogs,
encircled her neck, but it was strangely bulky.
Her head was now adorned with ears, like a dogs. They were backed with
black fur, (fake fur?), blending with her hair. Her pink real ears nestled
inside. All firmly secured by camouflaged grips on her ear-lobes.
He held a dog-lead clipped to a ring at her throat from which also hung a
large metal disk, a hands-width across. She read the letters, seen
backwards in the mirror:BOOTS
This puppy
belongs to
GUYNext her eyes were drawn to her arms, encased in a pair of black, stylized,
high-heeled boots. They transformed her arms to just above the wrist. She
was now a four-legged animal, complete, different, no longer human.
A leather harness, like those used to guide a toddler, was fastened under
her breasts. It had straps over her shoulders. There was a neatly enclosed
padlock where the quick-release buckle would normally be. Clips, like
those on a dog-lead hung from either side, with D-rings at the shoulder.
Its now time to spell out the rules. Youíll only hear them once so pay
attention!, he said, laying a crop lightly over her shoulder and taking the
slack in the lead to emphasize the point.
I donít intend to use this much, it shouldnít be necessary. But make no
mistake I will if I think you deserve it. She had no doubts at all that he
meant what he said.
Youíll get a sound thrashing if you get ideas and try to stand up on two
feet, or do anything else that shows you mistakenly think youíre still
human. Youíre Boots, my pet puppy and youíll accept that completely, or come
to regret it. Thatís the one and only essential thing to fix in your mind.
You keep your eyes down when youíre in my presence. Iím your owner now, as it
says on your collar and youíll show me proper respect. You keep them
focussed here, on my feet. She dropped her gaze with a jerk, as she heard
him tap the crop on his boots.
Thatís enough of you admiring yourself Boots! His hand reached out tenderly,
fingertips gently brushing her eyelids, and obedient to the caress she
again closed her eyes.
She had been admiring her clothes, a burgundy-colored, silk,
long-sleeved shirt. (Actually she was wondering whoíd pressed it so well,
sheíd done the ironing before and she couldnít see him doing it himself!).
It was open at the neck, with a cream silk stock. Over the shirt was a
boldly laced, black leather jerkin. Black leather breeches below, topped
with a wide black leather belt, and neat black riding boots completed the
picture. He had looked magnificent, commanding, comfortable and confident
wearing it. His shortish red-gold hair framed his face to perfection.
It follows of course that you wont be allowed to speak, but you get one
last chance, to thank me for going to all this trouble. Say Thank you David!
She cleared his throat and got as far as Than... before sharp pains felt at
the back of her neck cut the words off. Her neck snapped back reflexively
and her back arched.
I know it may not seem fair to put you through that, even though youíre
totally obedient. However you had to feel it to appreciate it. Its one of
the nicer touches to the outfit Iíve so carefully devised for you I think,
he remarked calmly. It is a clever little gadget from our Japanese
friends. They live so closely together they cant afford to let their dogs
bark. I understand shocks at the front of the neck could be dangerous, so
you only feel it at the back.
She now understood the bulk of the collar and recognized the pain as a mild
electric shock. She had felt indignant at the time, but could now see his
point, she had to feel it the once and so accepted his action as fair, he
was within his rights.
I have a little gadget here that, if I press the button youíll feel the a
shock again. But Iíll not use it now. There is another button too, that I
will.
She felt a tingling warm feeling in the same area. It felt like an expert,
light- fingered masseuse smoothing away any pain and stiffness. It was
lovely. She could take any amount of that.
That means well done, good doggie, understand? She nodded,
enthusiastically.
If I ask a question and the answer is yes, you nod like that, if no you
shake your head from side to side. You can use any sort of dumb or body
language to indicate what you want, provided you donít make a nuisance of
yourself. I know you can express yourself very well like that, and can say
anything you need to say that way.
He drew sharp nails lightly up her back and stroked her long and curly
black hair, taking hold of a handful and gently tugging, to emphasize the
situation before letting go. Understand, Boots? She nodded vigorously.
So you know your name then, Boots? She nodded again. You think its a good
idea too, donít you Boots, giving her lead a gentle tug. She nodded again,
weakly. Not so sure are you now, Boots? She feebly nodded again. Well teach
you a little more about it now. Thereís some nice touches.
Try a high-pitched whine. She complied, making weak mewing noises. No
effect. Blow me a kiss. She pursed her lips and mouthed a kiss. No
reaction. Try something in a lower pitch Boots. She grunted softly,
nothing.
Louder Boots, louder! she growled to comply and felt the now
all-too-familiar jolt. Shed always been afraid of electric shocks and now
knew she had been as effectively silenced as if by a gag. She wouldnít dare
risk that too many times.
Thatís the idea - theyíre the only noises youíre allowed to make. The
plaintive grizzling only if youíre uncomfortable, hungry, thirsty or
something. Of course if I tell you to shut up you do, or feel the crop
again! He tapped her on the shoulder and stuck the crop through his belt.
You blow a kiss to say thank you, that feels good or whatever.
Ill now explain to you why Iíve chosen this life for you. You had to be
naked, I couldnít tolerate anything preventing my hands touching your body
whenever I wanted. I know how you enjoy my touch, so Iím sure youíll
appreciate it. He stroked her shoulders, tickled inside her ear. OK Boots?.
Almost despite herself she nodded.
You had to be on all fours. That rump of yours looks its most exciting when
you are bent over. When you leave yourself open to my hand, a dildo or a
crop like this. Or indeed anything else I care to use.
Mind you always keep your legs apart and open yourself up to me even
further when you feel my hand. His fingers brushed her face and lips and
she obligingly opened her mouth as instructed. Thatís OK too then, I see.
I didnít want you interrupting my train of thought with your chatter so Iíve
silenced you. A gag would be far too much trouble, stopping me using your
mouth, or you eating or drinking, you couldnít be gagged for even hours on
end. That collar can be left on you for as long as I choose, hours, days,
weeks. His fingers traced around the collar. Understand Boots?. She nodded
again.
Ill be keeping you on a lead, or tethering you when I need my hands free,
not to stop you running away, because I know youíd follow me to the ends of
the earth. Its to constantly remind you youíre mine, youíre dedicated to and
provided for my pleasure.
Think of the lead, the collar, the harness or tether as extensions of me,
as extra hands and arms holding and tying you to me. Struggle against them
and youíre resisting me. Accept them and youíre acknowledging my ownership
and protection.
Your hands are enclosed and rendered useless to emphasize your delicious
helplessness to you. You are not here to work, prove your worth, to earn
your keep. You are here to be my pet and play-thing. You depend on me for
everything, the food you eat, water you drink, I have to keep you clean,
provide for your needs in every way. From time to time Ill take off your
collar to allow you to speak freely with me. Similarly your boots will
occasionally come off to check your hands are still in working order.
After all we may need them sometime! But not for quite a while!
Can you still wriggle your hands within your paws, Boots? She nodded.
Nothing pinching, chafing, rubbing painfully? Again she nodded. He ran his
finger around her harness and collar and the top of her boots looking for
potential trouble spots.
Any time you can choose to be released, you only have to refuse and defy
me, keeping it up long enough to convince me you really mean it. You
understand of course that would be the end, complete and final?
She nodded weakly, imagining the pressures that such a course of action
would unleash. He was never vicious, never really cruel, never sadistic,
never brutal, but she knew from experience she could be very insistent,
very demanding in ways that could hardly be denied.
When I decided you were to be my canine companion I wondered how to
describe you. If someone calls a man or women a bitch its usually qualified
with words like hard, cold, two-faced, devious. You are none of those
things. Similarly if someone calls a man or woman a dog they are saying his
face or his body are ugly. That is not true for you, in any way. So you are
my puppy.
Youíre not my puppy to punish you. Youíve always been good and obedient, as
far as youíre able. Iím proud of you, fond of you and respect your talents. I
just think it suits your nature to play the warm, soft, sloppy, cuddly
puppy-dog, adoring your owner. Of course if it humiliates you I donít mind
in the least, I like you better when you feel embarrassed, it makes you so
much more vulnerable. Youíre my pet poodle, my loving lap-dog, my hot
hound.
Do you accept the role, do you agree its within our bargain?
She hesitated, then nodded slowly, reluctantly, numbly. It was true, it
fitted, she had only himself to blame if it wasnít what she wanted. But, at
that moment, she thought it may suit her very well.
I expect you hoped for something less drastic, perhaps even dreamed of
being my girlfriend or wife?
She shook her head, shed keep her side of the bargain. If he wanted her as
a puppy-dog pet sheíd be the best, most obedient, adoring canine companion
she could manage.
You like the idea then? He lifted her face, touched open her eyes and
smiled affectionately at her. She warmed inside, blew him a noisy kiss and
wished she had a tail to wag. Instead she just waggled her bottom, pushing
her triangle up and forward.Tina Marie Holmboe, Oct '95
mailto:tina@ifi.uio.no[ Stray's note: If you have any similar themed stories, I'd love to read them, : ) and hopefully at some point I'll have time to put them up along with the rest of my collection. You can email me at straypup40@hotmail.com]
