I try to put things out that I'm proud of but when they are not recieved well it really makes it hard to want to create more.

Your fluttering eyes fall to see your nametag being torn off and a collar snapping around your neck instead, a gold tag engraved with "MUTT" hanging from it. By the time your head rises, you're met with shining eyes and a devilish grin.

"C'mon, puppy! Let's go meet the others~"

You wrote it on the nametag, didn't you? Ugh-

"Uhh... sure? I go b-" but before you can finish, they cut you off with a cheery "Thank you!"

Your knees buckle, your mind starts to fog as a wave of relaxation washes over you, like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders...

The sensations of regret, shame, and luxurious fur wash over your shoulder as a coat is laid over your shoulders, your bare chest displayed proudly in the center of the boutique.

The owner's eyes shine through the dark, glowing patterns reflecting on your hollow, plastic chest.

No two mannequins were alike, and the features only became stranger. Busts with multiple bras on multiple sets of breasts... a pelvis with lace lingerie laid overtop a chastity cage...

Where were they getting these from??
Of course, the answer has been made abundantly clear now.

With all of the clothing they sold here at obscenely high prices, the place having such minimal security almost felt like it was begging to be robbed. Maybe it was.

Even stranger were the mannequins... the mannequins at other stores weren't nearly as revealing as those on here.

I'm lucky to have you, and that dance is incomplete without it~

@mattswolf.bsky.social 💙💜

Just as you dip me down, you can so clearly see your colors reflect with how close we are, feeling our warm breath meet between parted lips.

All it takes is a word we whisper in unison to let the control flow through to one another and let the dance blossom... together.

Tango.

You hold me, spin me, twirl me around until my eyes once more meet yours with that beautiful glow... control comfortably set in your hands, however you wish to use it.

Our dance is special, unique to you and I how the control is shared between joined hands and mutual gazes...

She- hadn't even looked at her food. Her gaze was locked on you. The sound of your fork dropping is the last you hear before the world around you falls quiet.

With an open maw, she teases you with a deep, hungry throat before SNAPPING it shut.

"I'll take my dinner to go~"

I don't suppose she lied on her profile though.
"easy going" "fun-loving"
... "foodie"

Though she hadn't touched her food since you ordered, even if she kept commenting on how hungry she was, practically *drooling* over the menu when she recommended you order the steak rare.

Don't worry, you have plenty that makes you *you*.

For example; the number stamped on your forearm, how stretched your holes are, the different stains I leave you with...

Oh stop whining, toy.
Nobody can hear you under those thick layers of rubber anyway.

Bend over. Let's play.

Even a thumb hovering over the button is enough to have you straighten up and beg me not to… but the *click* is what makes you flinch, not the shock that follows.

That sound alone makes your tail tuck, your ears pin back…

Beautifully conditioned.

Just like the dog you are.

You simply play up the act as you drop to your knees in front of the crowd now gathering around you.

Your friends laugh, commenting on how empty your eyes look, or if you're even awake. Duh. Of course you are.

Your Master's words aren't doing anything, and hypnosis ISN'T real.

Sure, you follow the watch.

Your friends dared you to try it and it's the least you could do as not to TOTALLY embarrass this guy in front of everyone else in the bar, so you at least pretend to follow along...

So when he asked you to take off your bra, you listened too.