“Oh, Michael, it’s not that he annoys me . . . he just makes me nervous. He’s so big, and he can be scary and aggressive sometimes.”
“It’ll be fine, Traci, stop worrying. The dog will be outside and unable to get into the house. I’ll be back on Monday, and besides, all you have to do is call if you have any problems. Okay?”
“Okay,” I finally said.
I spent most of Saturday catching up on cleaning, vacuuming, laundry, and each time I looked out the window, I could see Bruno in the yard. I was finally able to relax and stop worrying about him. Around five o’clock, I decided to drive over to Del Vecchio’s for a little Italian takeout for dinner. Grabbing my keys, I ran out to my car. I was only gone for about 45 minutes. When I returned, I placed my take out on the kitchen counter, poured myself a glass of wine, and went upstairs to take a quick shower. When I came out of the shower, there stretched out on the floor in his regular corner was Bruno. He stood up and took a step toward me.
“Bruno . . .how did he get in the house?” I said to myself.
If I could get to my bedroom door, I could lock him in there. As I inched toward the door, he began to give a low growl, “Nice dog, good boy,” I said, inching closer to the door. When I reached out for the doorknob, Bruno snarled threateningly and came toward me and pressed his nose deeply between my legs. I gasped as the cool, moist snout brushed over my clit and his long rough tongue parted my wet pussy lips as he began to lick me there.
“No, no, bad dog,” I tried to say, and at the sound of my voice, he began to lick harder and faster, his tongue pushing up into my dripping wet slit. I reached down, and placing my hands on either side of his head, tried to push his mouth away, but with one hard thrust forward, he pushed his tongue inside me, and I began to orgasm so hard my legs shook, and I slumped to the floor.
I sat on the floor, crying from the intensity of my orgasm and shame.
Bruno looked at me with a look and “smirk” that said, “Bitch, it’s my turn now.” He started nosing and pulling on my sleeve, indicating he wanted me to bend over. When I tried to pull free, he began to snarl at me and bare his teeth. Bruno got behind me and started pushing my shoulder, forcing me forward onto my knees. I refused to move and began to try and crawl away as he followed behind me for a few steps before nipping my thigh. I froze . . . Bruno placed his huge head under my butt and lifting his head, successfully positioning me so that my head was down resting on my arms and my butt was raised. Bruno grabbed my thin robe between his teeth and began pulling it until I heard it rip, leaving my ass naked and exposed.
He began to sniff and vigorously lick my clit, making me tremble when he would almost gently nip my swollen pink nub or push his long, rough tongue inside me. My body began to betray me, and I came again. As my pussy became sopping wet with Bruno’s saliva and my juices, my movements and sexual pheromones excited him, and he lifted himself to mount me, his forelegs on my shoulders. Bruno was a huge dog, and I was literally underneath him with his furry chest pressed against my back, and his crotch and haunches covering my hips and legs.
“No! No, Bruno . . . No,” I screamed as he began probing for entry. I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my ass, and I glanced back, between my legs, and could see Bruno’s long, thick cock now free of its sheath seeking the opening of my pussy. I tried to pull away and felt Bruno’s forelegs press down on my shoulders, holding me in position and with his teeth nipped the side of my neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough for me to understand and accept his dominance. My panic rising, I stopped struggling and lowered my head to the floor, which he took as a sign of submission. Bruno waited, and when I didn’t move or further resist him, began to bark, confident in my submission.
My head down and my legs bent under me, Bruno poked and probed. His probing went on for several minutes, and I couldn’t stop crying, consumed by fear and humiliation. Reconciled to what was going to happen, I just wanted it to be over. Then suddenly, Bruno found my opening and drove his cock into me.
“Oh my god . . . “ I grunted.
I didn’t struggle or try and crawl away as I had before. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I felt as if Bruno might hurt me if I tried to fight him off. I had no choice but to let him do what he wanted. He went at me like I was a bitch in heat he had cornered in some alley. My submission and cries apparently excited him, and within a short time, I felt the warm, wetness of his emission inside me. To my horror, I realized that with each thrust, I moaned with sick pleasure.
Afterward, too sore and abused to walk, on my hands and knees, I slowly, painfully tried to crawl toward the bed, knowing, but not caring that he was watching me. Bruno followed me across the room and began growling; when I turned to look, I saw a human-like expression and demeanor that said, “I’m not through with you.”
“Please let it be over,” I prayed.
Before I could pull myself up onto the bed, I felt Bruno behind me. On my knees, my upper body bent at my waist on the edge of the bed; he aggressively licked his cum that was leaking from my abused pussy.
God help me . . . he mounted me again.
Bruno’s cock felt humongous, and even though my pussy was already filled with a large amount of his dog cum, I cried out with the pain and surprise of his penetration as he began to push forward into me.
“He’s inside me . . . Oh, god, he’s inside me again.” I whimpered pathetically.
With short quick jabbing thrusts, he slowly but decisively worked his way inside me. I didn’t struggle. I just made myself stay still and let him do what he wanted. I quickly became aware that whenever I instinctively pulled away, Bruno would snarl menacingly and fuck into me even harder.
As he continued to fuck me, I could hear myself begin to moan and push back against him as an involuntary orgasm started to build in my core. I didn’t want this to happen. I tried to repress it, but I couldn’t stop it, and eventually gave in to the inevitable. God forgive me, I enjoyed the pleasurable sensation when it began to wash over me.
I think Bruno must have felt me quivering under him and knew he had pleased me on some primal level. He paused and then pushed his full hard length inside me and resumed energetically fucking me like my boyfriend Michael never had. I climaxed again as Bruno began driving his cock into me deeper and harder. He found the rhythm and position he liked and began stroking as fast as he could. His swollen, purple cock continuing to slide in and out of the pussy he now owned.
I could feel his cock swelling inside me. Then terrified and panicking again, I remembered that dogs, canines when mating, will “knot” with their bitch. Was this what was happening?
I felt his cock inside me and the hard swollen knob pressing for entry inside me. He was thrusting harder, wanting, needing to get his knot inside me. The knot was growing hard, stretching me, and coaxing my pussy to open wider for him. Thrusting harder, driving himself deeper, I groaned as his knot finally pushed into my pussy. The sense of being filled was indescribable as my pussy muscles contracted around his shaft and knot, holding them buried deep inside me.
He was still getting bigger, and I felt him withdraw ever so slightly and immediately push back in and begin pounding my pussy and then he was cumming . . . cumming hard. It went on for what seemed like a long time until he had emptied himself and then became still. I lay under him, knowing that my humiliation and embarrassment had been perversely overshadowed by the pleasure I felt from what Bruno had done to me. We lay on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, as Bruno twitched and jerked a couple of times, expelling the last of his virile cum, giving his bitch everything he had.
I was knotted to Bruno for almost fifteen minutes until his knot reduced enough in size, and I felt him slip out. Once he had freed himself, Bruno looked back at me and left the room, and I could hear him padding down the stairs. After a few minutes, Bruno came back into the room where I was still lying on the floor and nuzzling me onto my back, began licking me between my legs, and after a few minutes, licked my face before going to his mat to clean himself.
*****
Out of exhaustion, shock, and a very sore pussy, I fell asleep there on the floor, dripping the remnants of Bruno’s copious cum deposit. I awoke in the dark, quiet bedroom around one o’clock in the morning. Gathering my will and strength, I made it into the shower. When I stepped out dripping water, I looked up, and Bruno was standing there near the bathroom door, waiting for me.
“No, no more” . . . I said to Bruno as if he could understand what I was saying.
Bruno watched me wearily but did not come closer.
“Go away! Get away from me!” I shouted at him.
As I walked toward the door, Bruno backed further into the bedroom and let me pass. He stood in the darkened room, watching as I climbed into my bed, still naked and damp from my shower. After forty-five minutes of struggling to stay awake, I finally drifted off to sleep. When I awoke again, it was a few hours later, but the sun was not yet up. Having pulled back the covers during the night, Bruno was on the bed with me. My period had begun, and maybe my scent had attracted and aroused him, and here he was between my legs. Still half asleep, I moaned at the sensation of his large, warm tongue licking my pussy and teasing my now engorged clit.
“Please go away Bruno . . . leave me alone,” I said as the tears again began to flow down my cheeks. Bruno looked up and tilted his head curiously as if wondering why I was crying. If he could speak, I have no doubt he would have asked, “Why are you crying bitch? You know you want this.”
I pushed Bruno’s head to the side and rolled away from him. He didn’t growl or snarl or try to nip me but, to my surprise, stood up, jumped off the bed, and went to his mat. I sat up in bed, again trying to stay awake, but slowly dozing off. When I finally awoke, I lay in bed, remembering that it was Sunday and that Michael would be home sometime on Monday. I wondered if I called him maybe he could get away by this evening. With that thought and still a bit sore, I slowly got out of bed and immediately noticed Bruno was not on his mat. Hopefully, he was in the backyard, and if he was, I might be able to lock him out. I pulled on one of Michael’s large t-shirts and a pair of exercise shorts and went downstairs to the kitchen for my morning coffee.
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