Collars

woman-dog-walking

I have two dogs. Aka, two boys. Two playthings. Two submissive men. One is John, my 24/7 boy. We live together. We’ve been together playing for over 10 years.  If you read the blog on even somewhat of a irregular basis, you know of our years and our adventures.

Not that long ago, Troy came sailing into our lives, a most pleasant addition. Troy is new to power exchanges, to kinky dynamics. He is lovely, sweet, funny, warm, loyal, smart, easy to be around. But my word….that boy is not as leash trained as he needs to be. That toy named troy is a slippery fellow. Not at all maliciously so, for I truly do not believe he resists the feel of a collar. Or the tug of a leash. Instead, he is the kind of pet that you’ll leave loosely tied up outside of a local shop on Main Street as you dash inside to get a cup of coffee. What happens when that happens? Well…

I’ll head into that figurative coffee shop, leaving outside my two dogs. Both tied lightly to a post outside the door. The pet named john will contently lay down. Head on paws, relaxed. He knows well this routine, and he has a wonderful strategy to occupy himself while his Mistress is indoors. My pup (john) knows that with his head resting on paws, and his eyes looking up, he’ll get to see lots of skirts, lots of legs, lots of high heels passing him by. He’ll often find people stopping to pet him, to admire him and his obedience. Most often he lays there, tail wagging, not a worry in the world. He knows I will return from my errand and will delight in seeing him there, waiting obediently.

Pet troy, on the other hand, is a different dog. He is younger, impish, distracted. He is just as happy, just as cute. But he has a knack for slipping out of that collar and away from the rope that secures him. He doesn’t go far, he doesn’t bother anyone. But he’ll wander up and down that sidewalk, nose to the pavement, distracted by the scent of a hot dog vendor, or he’ll follow a pretty lady, not realizing how far he is drifting. His tail wags steadily, he hasn’t quite figured out that a leash is a silent sort of instruction. He knows all the basic commands. “Sit”, “Shake”, “Beg”, “Heel”. He is even getting good at “Bend over”, “Present”. But “Stay” isn’t one he has quiet mastered yet.

And no, I am not at all referring to him cheating. Or being dishonest or disloyal. I am simply talking about a pet that slips off his leash because I don’t think he quiet feels he knows his place yet. To be fair to him, I don’t have him full time, so troy has to be in many different worlds in a week. Perhaps the adjustment is hard for him, I’m not sure. He is not yet taking My commands as gospel. When I say to him on a Monday “Stay. Wait for Me. Good boy.”, he’ll stay in the neighborhood, but he won’t always be at the spot where I expect him to be. I’ll whistle, and he’ll come running back, tail wagging, mud on his nose from the exploring, but not at all realizing that I anticipated him to be where I told him to be. I scowl at this, but smile too. He is lucky he is cute and inexperienced. I don’t feel angry at this. But I am realizing he needs more training. Perhaps not quantity, but rather quality. Quality training for my quality pet. He needs to learn that when I have him with me on the days I have him, his obedience needs to be complete. I will need to tie him tighter, make the collar snugger. My orders will have to be more stern, more direct.

I wonder if he knows I have a shock collar for such training needs. I don’t use it often, because it’s a rather intense form of instruction. But I’m thinking it’s time to break it out of it’s case, charge up the batteries, and give it a test or two.

Troy will respond well to this, I think. He might not like it, but he’ll learn from it. I feel rather certain of this.smile dog

 

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She went to bed…

She used me well last night. It was a busy weekend for us both, but she settled in last night, used my cock for her pleasure and told me to rub her back after she rolled away from me, dislodging me from within her.

A few minutes into rubbing her back, she spoke. “I have to pee, but I don’t want to leave the bed.”

“How can I help?” I helpfully inquired.

“Get over here” she replied. I lay on my back on the bed, my head hanging off the side. She covered my mouth with her pussy. I did the best I could.

She never left the bedroom and yet, now she didn’t have to visit our bathroom. While it wasn’t perfect service, I did my best. She was pleased and that’s what counts.