It was a doghouse. It dominated the right corner of the backyard. There was no mistaking the classic Snoopy doghouse, painted in the same colors as our house, with a peaked roof and a door with a curved top. If there was any doubt of its tenant, LUCKY was painted over the door of the man-sized doghouse.
Gretchen never referred to it as a doghouse—only a private place where I could be alone. I knew this wasn’t the case, or she wouldn’t have attached a wide leather collar that she placed around my neck. I looked down and there, set in cement in the center of the yard was a pile of rusty chain.
“I doubt that you will ever make the mistake of running off again, but just the same, this will remind you why you need to pay attention and do what you’re told. I considered one of those new electrical devices, but I prefer the more traditional method.”
It was unlikely that I would forget the chain attached to my collar, for it was large and strong enough to pull a truck. The links were an inch and a half long and a quarter inch thick. I struggled to keep up with Gretch as she led me around the yard.
“This is where your food will be placed,” she said while indicating the back porch. The chain was just long enough for me to climb the three cement steps to reach my dinner.
“This isn’t much of tree, but since it’s the only tree in the yard, this is where you can lift your leg,” she said. “You can do your business back in this corner. I want to see you lift your leg and pee on your tree.” I hesitated and she said, “Now.”
Just like a dog, I lifted my leg but, try as I may, I just couldn’t pee.
“That’s okay, Lucky, you can just stay as you are until you’re finally able to pee.”
Without another word, she ruffled my hair and left me chained to the center of our backyard with my own private doghouse, the house with my name painted across the top of the door.
I was afraid that I would collapse before I could finally piss on that damn excuse for a tree. It was the sound of the sprinklers going off that enabled me to pee. It was just as difficult to aim my stream so that it hit the tree. I thought I heard Gretch’s soft chuckle before the back door closed softly.
I can’t imagine why anyone would want to live in a doghouse, but if one must, this is the one. Truth be told, it’s quite comfortable inside. urla escort bayan While it isn’t tall enough for me to stand, there is a single bed on one side of the door and a number of necessities for living outdoors on the other.
There are no blankets or pillows, but it never mattered because Gretchen had thoroughly insulted the walls and roof. I eventually found that the floor had a heating element which kept the doghouse cozy at night. I found the pair of knee pads and wondered if I should feel grateful or scared.
There is a light, and a nightlight to use in case of an emergency when Gretch turns out the night. She could probably listen to me because she always said “Good Night, Lucky,” to me over a small speaker installed in my new house.
As the summer progressed, I listened to all of the night sounds. It was interesting, the way my senses seemed to become more acute. I could listen to three dogs barking clear across town, having a midnight chat. Sometimes I was so lonely that I was tempted to bark and so enter their canine conversation.
I wasn’t going to mention this part because it shows the amount of control Gretchen held over me, but I might as well write it all down.
Lying outside my doghouse one day, I saw a stray cat about to use our yard as a litter box. I’d begun to chase after it barking when I realized the insanity of my actions.
I’ve no doubt that there are people who would love to be in that situation, but this wasn’t my idea of being dominated. Nevertheless, my love for Gretchen conquered my fears. I felt a deeper sense of submission because if this is what she wanted, it was my desire, as well.
Was this going to be my life? Was I regulated to remain in the doghouse forever? Truth be told, I made up my mind, then and there, that if being a dog would make Gretchen love me, I was happy to become her dog.
The worst thing by far during my summer in the doghouse was that dammed, infernal chain! During the intense heat of the day, the only place to be was in the doghouse.
The problem with staying inside the doghouse was the chain, which stretched from the center of the yard to the collar around my neck and became so hot that to touch it was to be branded.
Gretch never considered this hazard while she clapped her hands and whistled for escort urla me to come running on hands and knees. But not even Gretch could remain impassive when the links of the chain nipped my balls as I scrambled to greet her.
She had me lay on my back while administering first aid and spoke to me softly, tenderly. She remarked that my balls were already shaved so the Band-Aid would stick. When she was finished, she ruffled my hair and said, “Now, leave that alone, Lucky. You wouldn’t want me to attach a plastic cone around your neck, would you?
I spent a lot of time listening for the sound of Danny’s truck, knowing that it was impossible to tell if he parked in our garage. Gretchen had thought of everything when she designed the vault. My doghouse was a simple task for her.
I could only imagine what might be going on inside the vault. I learned what a cuckold is from Internet porn and it was never a part of my fantasies or fetishes. The thought of Gretchen with another man was bad enough, but this was the man who humiliated me on the construction site.
This was the man who more than once came up from behind and yanked my pants down in front of the entire crew, Gretchen included.
This was the same man who put me in a headlock and paraded me around with my jeans and underpants around my ankles so that everyone had a chance to examine my diminutive penis and balls.
One evening, as Gretchen was setting out my bowls, the unmistakable sound of Danny’s truck passed by. Gretchen looked up quickly with an annoyed expression that changed when she looked down at me.
She was silently defiant. She was taunting me, daring me to ask the question that preyed on my mind. When I said nothing, she closed the door behind her and left me to my supper.
I was nearly asleep in my doghouse bed when I heard the sound of people talking. Confused, I looked about and realized that the voices came from the intercom speaker. I heard the unmistakable voices of Gretchen and Danny Reynolds.
It suddenly struck me that this was coming from inside the vault! I wondered if the intercom had been accidentally switched on or if Gretchen wanted me to hear their conversation.
“Damn, baby! You’re lookin’ hot tonight. I could eat you with a spoon!”
“Thanks, Danny; you always look nice, even urla escort when you’re working on a house. Do you like this new nightie?”
“Nice, very nice, but you know I like satin. This doesn’t look like satin.”
“That’s because it’s silk. You said you wanted deep purple with black lace, so it was silk or nothing. Don’t you like it?”
“To tell the truth, Gretch, it looks better than satin, but I like the way satin feels when you stroke me with the panties to get me off.”
“Did you notice that the little bow on the front of the panties unties and opens the slit down the front? I love it! I can’t wait to feel your big cock fucking me through these silky panties.”
Gretch was never one to make much noise in our lovemaking, so it was even more emasculating to hear her going on and on about the size of his cock and how it was three times the size of my own.
I didn’t have a pillow or blanket, and I couldn’t put my fingers in my ears. I couldn’t bear to listen to my wife fucking the man I loathe with such unbridled lust. I breathed a sigh of relief when the intercom was turned off.
I was still crying softly on my little bed when the back porch light came on. The last thing I wanted to do was crawl to her on all fours, but she clapped her hands, whistled and called for me, so I had no choice. I didn’t have time for kneepads because it was difficult to slip them on with my bound fists, so I scurried out to meet her at the porch steps.
She stepped down and told me to sit. During this whole time, Gretch was covering her pussy with her hand. I sat back on my haunches, hoping to please her, and raised my hands to the level of my chest.
“Tilt your head back and open your mouth, Lucky.” I did as I was told. I knew what was coming, but that didn’t help my fear and dread. She spread her legs and thrust her pelvis forward until she straddled my head. Her pussy hovered inches above my open mouth.
It was difficult to see in the dim porch light, but I sensed her clenching her pussy until two dollops of what I knew was Danny’s spunk dropped into my mouth.
“Swallow,” she said, and I did, tasting the salty, oily sperm for the first time in my life.
“Eat it,” was all she needed to say. I never dreamed that someday I would be reluctant to lick my wife’s pussy, but tears streamed down my face as I lapped up the remains of Danny’s cum. Nevertheless, I licked her pussy clean.
She looked down at me sternly, almost angrily and said, “I hope that answers your question. Now, get back in your house.” With that, she went back into the house and probably back to her vault.