Page 114 of Puppy on a Leash

An embarrassing amount of practice by myself, too. And pep talks.

Which reminded me, I needed the pup more worked up than they were now. I’d promised them as much, after all.

After locking the length of the leash so that they didn’t have a lot of freedom to move, I tugged on it, my fist digging into the duvet.

“I forgot to mention something, pup.”

“Huh?”

Andthatwas the tone I’d been waiting for—the one that told me they were half gone to pleasure and baser instincts.

“I’ve been using a lot of dildos these past few weeks.” I grinned when their lips parted. Jaime kept being the easiest pup to surprise. “I know how it feels when I’m well fucked by one.”

The meaning fell on them a second later. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” I leaned back so I could plant a dirty kiss on their mouth. One day, I’d have them in their full puppy get-up, and they’d be wagging their tail and barking with impatience until I gave them the green light to mount me. “Now get to it already.”

Their throat convulsed as they swallowed repeatedly. “I need more room to prep you, Sir.”

With the leash pulled taut, Jaime’s head fell around my shoulder, their body weight all but draped on top of me. There was only give for an inch or two of space between our bodies.

“What you need to do is grab the lube, be generous with it, and go slow.” I smirked when their eyes widened. “Surely, you can manage that much.”

“Shouldn’t I?—”

“No, pup.”

One of the first things I learned during my explorations was that fingering felt strange. I’d much rather relax and push into the burn. A quick search confirmed I wasn’t the only one, so thankfully I didn’t have to give myself a migraine trying to make sense of something else I hadn’t wanted to think too hard about in the first place.

“Topping from the bottom,” Jaime mumbled to themselves. “Good to know.”

I shook my head. What the fuck did they expect? And how many times had I told them that would be how it went?

Sometimes, it was better not to ask them too many questions. I would scatter them over the next few days. For now, I focused on the sound of the bottle of lube they’d dropped on the bed earlier, and the cold hitting my ass crack where Jaime squirted it straight from the bottle.

I let my head lower for a second. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that they’d try to assert some kind of power—or brattiness—that way. Jaime might not even realize it was a brat move, but they should’ve learned by now. It took much more to sway me or get a reaction.

One quick look showed them slathering their cock with lube, so they could get away with the small infraction for now.

That quick look had me eyeing the purple cock again. I’d mostly trained with a set of plugs I’d gotten online, but the biggest one I’d used had more girth around the thickest part. I should be fine.

Besides, Jaime was careful, even though they pretended to fall into the fantasy of the overexcited puppy who couldn’t wait one more second. More gentle than their counterpart-turned-next-door-neighbor, in some ways.

They proved it as they rubbed the lube into my skin with the tip of their cock before simply placing it against my entrance there. They didn’t have their hood, but I doubted they felt very able—or willing—to use words right now.

For once, I didn’t need them to.

I needed them closer, though.

I needed Jaime mounting me like a pup—no thoughts going through that pretty head of theirs. Like they were in rut. That was the term, wasn’t it? Alphas went in ruts and omegas went in heat. I’d stopped researching the omegaverse stuff when I overheard Jaime complaining to Cece that she was putting ABO in my head too much and I was going to get the wrong idea about things. I didn’t get more specifics, but that was because I forgot to ask.

I’d rather leave questions as the last resort. Watching the two pups provided more answers.

Anyway.

Pushing into the toy was easier than it had been a few weeks back, but the burning sensation was still there. I grunted. Jaime dug their fingertips into my hips. That was a new sensation added to the stretching I’d worked myself up to.

Anal play—on the receiving end—was different than I’d thought it would be. I kind of blamed myself for all the reticence what now felt like years ago. Some preconceived notions had definitely been there—that I’d put something in my ass and turn into a desperate power bottom who begged for more and was reduced to moans and mewls.

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