someoneotherishere

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

House Pet, Part 2

Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _

You were in quite the predicament. You had agreed to be Daddy’s little house pet for the weekend, his good little service sub. And you knew what you were getting into. You wanted to be his good girl, his best girl, no matter what he required of you. You wanted to please him, to push yourself as far as you could to be his obedient little pet. But you hadn’t expected him to go so hard, so fast.

There you were, on all fours, with your knees and palms pressed firmly against the hardwood floor. You were completely naked from head to toe, minus the very thick diaper Daddy had taped you in. You weren’t allowed to move. If you had to go to the bathroom, you were expected to do it right there, in your diaper, no matter what kind of potties you had to make.

You were determined to hold it, to exert what little control you had left and contain yourself. But of course, just to make it harder, Daddy had positioned you right next to his spot on the couch, and he reached over and balanced a hard plastic cup of water on the arch of your back. He was careful to keep it from falling, and right as he took his hand away, he said,

“Careful baby. You wouldn’t want to make a big mess all over the floor, would you? Because then Daddy would have to make you lick it all up.”

The muscles in your back tensed, and you stiffened your limbs, careful not to move even an inch. The cup was filled with ice, and the chill sent shivers up and down your back, but you couldn’t let yourself shudder, not even for an instant, for fear of knocking the cup off its balance. You would have to be perfectly still, like a good little decoration for Daddy.

Minutes passed, and Daddy sat there watching a movie. It was a big kid movie, and Daddy said you weren’t allowed to watch. Which was a good thing, because if you’d paid any attention to it, you wouldn’t have been able to focus on keeping the cup still. You devoted all your attention to the task at hand, just like you’d devoted all of yourself to your owner.

The ice was melting, and the condensation on the cup trickled out all over you, dripping down across your ribs. You wanted so badly to wipe it away, but you knew you weren’t dexterous enough, so you settled for letting out a pathetic little whine.

“That’s enough of that,” Daddy said. His tone was just stern enough to call you to attention. The moment you heard his voice, you almost let out a whole moan, but at the last moment, you managed to be a good girl and stifle it while you waited patiently for your Daddy to finish his thought.

“Tables are meant to be seen, not heard,” he said.

You felt your cheeks burn at the suggestion that you weren’t just being objectified, no. You were, in fact, no more than an object. Not a girl. Certainly not a grown, independent woman, deserving of respect. You were just his property, and that was right where you belonged. Under his thumb, at his beck and call, ready to follow his every command.

You managed to make it through the entire runtime of the movie, keeping yourself steady through sheer force of will, motivated by nothing but your desire to be good for Daddy. By the time he turned the TV off, your arms and legs were so tired, and your bladder was about ready to burst. When you saw him get up, you almost relaxed, thinking he’d finally let you go free. But that isn’t what he had in mind.

He stood up and made his way over to you before unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants. Your cheeks burned even hotter, and the dried condensation on your back mixed with your nervous sweat.

“D-daddy,” you said. “I c-can’t-“

“I don’t want to hear another word out of that little mouth of yours. In fact, Daddy has other plans for it.”

He positioned himself in front of you, grabbed your jaw, and told you to open wide. You were his good girl, always doing as you were told. You opened your mouth, and in an instant, he was thrusting into it. You took the full length of him, feeling him slide in and out of your throat. With each thrust, you shook just a bit, feeling light splashes from the cup pour out onto you.

You adjusted your back, trying to keep your lower half steady while he used you like the good little toy you were, but it was to no avail. More and more water kept splashing out, and with each drop that hit your back, a little drop trickled out of your bladder to match. You did everything you could to hold on, to be a good girl for Daddy. You had to.

You couldn’t fail him. He was your master, your owner, your everything. No matter how much it inconvenienced you, you had to be his good little pet, to submit to him completely. You were not meant to have thoughts or to complain. You were meant to be a good little obedient toy for Daddy to use and abuse, however he saw fit, even if that meant setting you up for failure. You tried so hard, knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

With one last thrust, Daddy grabbed hold of the back of your head. He pulled your hair tight into his fist and held you there as he finished right there in your mouth. That was the straw that broke the baby’s back. As he held you there, forcing you to take all of him, you shuddered as his warm ecstasy slid across your tongue and down your throat.

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming. Daddy’s legs tensed, and he came repeatedly, over and over again, shooting hot stickiness into your little puppy mouth. With each burst of liquid, you shook. Once, twice. Struggling to hold on. To remain still. And then again. For the third and final time. As Daddy finished inside of your mouth and said, “That’s my good little puppy girl.”

With those words ringing in your ears, you lost it. Pure, incomparable euphoria engulfed you, and you no longer cared who or where you were. All thoughts left that little head of yours, replaced with nothing but emptiness and an all-encompassing sense of pleasure. The cup fell, the water splashing all over you and the floor, and the moment the warm liquid hit your back, you felt more warmth further down, this time flooding into your diaper. Daddy filled you on one end, and you let go on the other, releasing it all into your diaper like a helpless little baby who couldn’t control herself.

You stayed there, reveling in your bliss, for as long as you could. But soon enough, that inevitable sense of clarity came for you both, the one that tore through the shared world of ecstasy you’d built together. You could tell Daddy was handling his clarity fine, unbothered by it. You, on the other hand, felt chills run down your spine. Panic stirred up within you, starting in your stomach and chest and working its way up to your throat, which tightened until you couldn’t call out, couldn’t breathe.

But then Daddy kneeled right in front of you. He met you at your level. His eyes, staring not at you, but right through you, into your soul, were inviting like a warm blanket on a winter’s evening. At once, that rising fear was gone, replaced with nothing but his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you into his embrace.

“You’re alright, love,” he said, and you believed him. You were alright. You were safe. He had you, now and always.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” you said. “I just wanted to be your good girl.” Tears welled up in your eyes. Not because you were sad, no. But because you were so overwhelmed with emotion. You’d been flung around, back and forth from sheer bliss to raw terror, then held firmly in place and kept still while the world stopped spinning around you. The emotional vertigo was too much for you to handle, but Daddy wasn’t upset. He merely wiped the tears from your eyes.

“There there, my love. You are my good girl. You’re Daddy’s best girl.”

And that’s all you’d ever wanted to be.

You let him hold you there for some time, before you finally came back to yourself. Those turbulent feelings were gone, and you felt stable, like a held breath that could finally be released.

“Daddy...” you said meekly, hoping not to hear the answer you were dreading. “D-do I still have to... lap up my mess?”

You couldn’t look at him. You stared at the floor, hoping he would tell you to go get a towel and clean it up. And while you were at it, you were hoping for a diaper change as well. But you didn’t want to ask too much.

You remained on all fours while Daddy stood up. He held his hand low, placing it under your chin and bringing your face up to meet his. He refused to let you avert your gaze. “You should be grateful,” Daddy said. “Most pet owners wouldn’t let their puppies lap up water they spilled. Aren’t you going to thank me?”

You felt another wetness grow in your diaper, but this time, it wasn’t you having an accident. “Y-yes Daddy.” You lowered your head and began licking the water on the floor, lapping it up just like the obedient little mutt he’d trained you to be, but the whole time, you kept your eyes on him. He walked behind you and kneeled down, this time running his hand along the bottom of your diaper, over your precious puppy parts, and you moaned as you licked.

“That’s my good girl,” he said. “Go ahead, you’re allowed to moan now. Be a good puppy for Daddy, and he’ll give you what you really want.”

He continued rubbing your diaper, right on the outside of your puppy parts, while you mindlessly humped away, grinding over his hand. Daddy had you so firmly in his grasp. He knew where he wanted you, and he knew where you needed to be. He had you right where you belonged. He would raise you. He would train you. And he would reward you for being his good little plaything, because he was the best pet owner in the world. _

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[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

It’s still R.I.P Namio Harukawa.

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

[someoneotherishere]

She just has to walk on her knees and elbows for one minute, one whole minute: that is all her captors require, and she will be free. Several days have passed. She has been fed and watered, has passed waste into the suit several times, but she is no closer or further from her goal than at the start. Trapped in the suit, she cannot see them, but can hear their footfalls and soft laughter at her predicament, taunting her with the promise of freedom. The suit stinks of her own sweat and waste, but she can only scream into the gag in frustration as the noisome mixture of bodily fluids slips and slides between her skin and the thick clinging layer which imprisons her. She does not know that her entire ordeal is being streamed live, with viewers betting on how long she will take to get her freedom, if at all. If she does not get out within a month, she will be given as a gift to the highest donor to the channel.

[someoneotherishere]