#collar for dogs

[canisalbus]

✦ Freshly ordained ✦

[majinbangus]

You've always wanted a dog. It doesn't matter what kind, you'd be happy with any, but no matter how much discussion, Soap never budges, holding the exact opposite opinion about dogs. Which you understand given his experiences with them, but it's still a little disappointing.

Until he compromises one day under the condition he gets to choose the dog. Specifically a guard dog, in his words. One he's known and worked with multiple times. One he trusts to take care of his sweet lass. One that will protect.

You get so excited, you buy the collar and everything, eagerly waiting the day Soap is coming home with the dog... only to be confused when Ghost walks in behind him, no dog in sight.

"Uh, hi, Simon?" You peek around the man. Perhaps the dog is hidden behind the man's massive frame. It's not. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" You shoot Soap a confused look. "And where's the dog you promised me?"

Soap chuckles at your confusion. "He's right here, sweetheart." He pats Ghost's shoulder, and the man takes one big step closer to you, closing the gap within that single stride. The shadow he casts somehow makes him look larger. "You said you'd be happy with anything, and I got you the best one! Ghost'll do anything you say—sit, stay, attack—you'll love him!"

You're not quite convinced. Can't lie and say you're not a little disappointed, but all thoughts of dissatisfaction are briefly forgotten when Ghost reaches down to grab your wrist, the one loosely holding the leather dog collar in hand, and undoes the buckle for you. He then guides your limp hands to slip it around his neck, adjusting it perfectly before letting your hands drop. When he pulls away, a shiver runs through you at the hungry gleam in his eyes, smirk evident in his voice.

"Woof."

You gulp. Maybe Soap is right. Maybe you will love him.

[bunnygirllover45]

possession.

[texaschainsawmascara]

archfiendco on ig / @fiendco on here

[kaionyx]

Now that I fully embraced my dog dom side, the idea of letting my sub pick out a collar and leash that’s purely for show has been stuck on my mind. So many assume that if I wear those things and let my sub be the one to have a grip on it that I must be a sub myself right? Wrong.

I don’t care if anyone thinks that they have some type of control over me, or about getting plenty of questionable stares seeing something big like me being tugged around by them. They know once we’re behind closed doors that’s not the case. Plus, how else are they gonna show off their new guard dog hm?

What else are they going to pull mindlessly on when they futility try to pull me away from their sore cunt when they get too sensitive? Or use to hold onto whatever sanity they have left when they’re pinned under me, covered in scratch marks and drool from me constantly rutting load after load into their precious little holes?

I think that’s plenty of reason to have one and i’m sure you’d love to be the one to find out what it’s like to be the breeding fuckmutt I ruin and break in after reading this, wouldn’t you darling?

[tpup]

dogdyke based on this photo from this post

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[wolf-m4sc]

Her guard dog

[star-pupboy]

Some Therian gear I wanna get (once I get my paycheck)

Also Ty guys so much for all the notes wtf this is crazy 😭 🤎

[canisalbus]

[formulanni]

Swimming with the fishes 🎣

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009 @korolrezni-nikolai

[petnews2day]

Calming musical collar for dogs launches crowdfunding campaign

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/czQGT

Calming musical collar for dogs launches crowdfunding campaign

Campaign is seeking funding to create a collar containing a proprietary MP3 player and high-quality speakers to reduce fear, anxiety, and stress in dogs Music Mutz, LLC, the comforting musical collar has been approved to debut a campaign that recently launched on Kickstarter, a foremost crowdfunding website. The campaign is looking for funding to develop […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/czQGT #DogNews #CalmingDogProducts, #CalmingMusicForDogs, #CalmingMusicalCollarForDogs, #CollarForDogs, #DogAnxiety, #DogProducts, #DogStress, #MusicCap, #NewDogProducts, #ProductsForDogAnxiety, #VetNews, #VeterinaryNews

[stimboardboy]

do not pet | i bite | nervous

[gonnadosomethingwmylife]

neal caffrey’s white collar family in their respective gaslight, girlboss, gatekeep alignments-

[eriscary]

By shaping their tears, Tear can do surfing, skiing, biking, driving and similar things. Because it's just them manipulating their own magic. Give them the real deal and Tear will fail miserably.

Shapes aren't the only thing Tear can mimic with their tears. More on that later, as I have something in the works ;>

Even though Tear is snow surfing, on actual water their magic dissipates. This is as close they get to it

Tear Sans - me

[whiskeyandcigarsmoke]

Logan being open to wearing a collar, but not if it means getting tugged around or being grabbed. He's been jerked around and controlled his whole life and it only makes him want to resist, to fight. When he thinks of a putting on a collar, he thinks of being someone's pet. Something cherished, something to be gentle with. Beloved pets don't get dragged around by their collars. Wearing a collar to Logan means he not only belongs to someone, but he is taken care of.

Wade remembers cat collars and how they are break away designs so cats can't get caught on things. He has a collar made for Logan that's soft and delicate, made from supple blood red leather. It has a very small gold ring on the front that a tag can hang from if Logan choose and the hardware in the back is similar to that of the cat collars. Logan is surprised and overwhelmed with feelings when Wade asks to put it on him and pulls gently, demonstrating the break away clasp as the collar came easily off his throat. No one can pull, jerk, or control Logan via the collar. It wasn't designed for that. All it does is show off that he belongs, is wanted and someone will come looking for him if he ever goes missing.