Collared & Leashed

Willie

Willie

The mask is gone!

I feel more naked, more exposed than ever. And pictures are taken!

I should protest; quit; demand to be released!

But I have not yet earned the fifty dollars and the damage is done. Besides, unwarranted behavior is quickly corrected with that walking stick. And I am mindful of Judy’s firm grip on my testicles.

So I lap the bowl. I am indeed thirsty and there is something about being with this Chloe that stimulates me beyond the physical. She is perfect, so beautiful...so kind...and through the leash I feel the guidance of her hand, as if she is touching me.

She stands to my side cooing comforting words, complimenting me on being such a good dog. Behind I feel fingers. The female gender cannot resist. Given a well shaven, attractively colored scrotal sac, it seems the examinations will not cease. And perched on the table, my organs swing like ripened fruit waiting to be picked.

Though large, I finish the bowl. When Miss Nancy returns with her paint and brushes, the crowd seems to collectively murmur encouraging words. For some reason I become dejected as her skilled hand returns my face to its canine portrayal. And when done this Miss Beverly again grasps my collar. I am once again ignominiously displayed, the tender examining hands have continuously fostered stiffness and Miss Beverly ensures that all observe my libidinous reaction.

And again the camera clicks...