The Puppy and Her Master
"You've finished eating. Time to get you cleaned up."
Veronica took my hand and pulled me to my feet. After days of lying still, my legs trembled beneath me like matchsticks. When my spent body listed sideways, she drew my shoulder against her own and, supporting my weight, led me slowly out of the detached villa.
Stepping from that dim little building, I was met by the noon sun. I hadn't seen daylight in so long that it was blinding — the whole world seemed to bleed into a wash of white.
Leaning on Veronica's shoulder, I arrived at a bathroom that belonged to an entirely different world from the cramped one in the villa. Polished marble floors. Gleaming gold faucets. The villa had only a small tub; here, a vast bath large enough for three or four adults steamed invitingly, the rising vapor drawing a white veil through the air. Humidity and a faint floral scent mingled until my head swam. I still felt as though I were dreaming.
"Come on. You'll have to take those off if you want a bath."
Veronica sat me on a small stool and began undoing the buttons of my rumpled nightclothes, one by one. I didn't resist. I simply watched the motion of her fingertips. When even my underclothes were stripped away and I stood naked, what remained was a body of little more than bone. Days of starvation had left me ugly even to my own eyes. But Veronica looked over even this wreck of a body as though it were a work of art, her gaze traveling slowly, lingeringly.
When that brief appraisal was over, she lifted me into the tub.
"Nnh..."
The instant the warm water touched my skin, it felt as though my frozen body were melting away. A low moan slipped out of me before I could stop it. Heat rose through me, and my mind grew hazy.
"I'll wash you. Just stay still."
Veronica worked a thick lather of soap into a soft bath sponge, then came around behind me and began washing my back. As if old grime were being peeled away, the dark feelings piled up inside me seemed to wash down the drain as well. Her hands passed over my back and caressed my shoulders and the nape of my neck. Every time those slender fingers gently rubbed around my ears, my body twitched.
The hands that had climbed up came around to the front and began to travel down again. Veronica's fingers circled my nipples. There was no intent in the touch, but my body responded all the same. I felt them harden. Her touch drifted steadily lower — past my stomach, stroking the soft skin of my lower belly — and at last she gently wrapped her hand around my limp cock.
My body tensed before I could help it.
"Nnhh...!?"
"It's all right. Relax."
At that low whisper I drew a deep breath and let the tension drain from my body. Veronica began to wash my cock as carefully as if she were handling a baby — between the folds of the head, down to my slack balls, every last place, missing nothing, with painstaking care. Shame burned in my face. My cock, utterly indifferent to its owner's feelings, kept twitching and lifting its head. There was no way Veronica hadn't noticed. But she said nothing. She simply went on washing my body in silence.
When the bath was over, she wrapped me in a large towel and dried me thoroughly. These were all things I could have done myself. But I hadn't so much as lifted a finger. Everything had begun and ended with her hands. I had the strange illusion that I had become her precious doll.
"This is your room now."
The place Veronica had brought me to was a door right beside her own. It had always been shut tight; I'd wondered what it was for. So this had been meant as my room all along.
When she opened the door, a sweet fragrance spilled out, and another world unfurled before me. I drew a deep breath without thinking. The entire room was done in soft pinks and whites — a princess bed with a gauzy canopy, an elegant vanity with a large mirror, even a shelf lined with cute little dolls. It looked less like a room than a carefully arranged dollhouse. I found myself missing the spare, simple design of the villa.
What remained of my pride as a man cried out. But going back to the villa was not an option. Veronica was watching me with a satisfied smile. That was right. I no longer had any choices left.
"What's wrong? Don't you like it?"
"...No."
Father was gone. The family was gone. All I had left was Veronica. Whether I liked the room or not was beside the point. I nodded, slowly. Pride had locked my neck stiff, but resignation was the oil that finally made my head move.
"I like it..."
The answer pleased her. Veronica's smile deepened. Led by her hand, I stepped into the room. The plush carpet underfoot felt unfamiliar. She sat me in the chair before the vanity.
The person in the mirror was unmistakably me, and yet a stranger. What was I supposed to call the thing sitting in front of me now? Was it still Leopold? Or was it Katrina?
I lowered my head in confusion, and something alien caught my eye. A headband shaped like fluffy puppy ears, white as my own hair. And a puppy tail made of the same stuff — except at the end of it, catching the light, was a gleaming plug. I'd seen something like it once, in a dirty picture book.
...That goes in the back. I'm sure of it.
My heart dropped through the floor.
Veronica must have read my face. She smiled sweetly, picked up the puppy-ear headband, and settled it carefully onto my head.
"Cute."
White ears standing perkily atop my head. It was ridiculous. It was wretched. I felt as though I might cry, but my tear ducts had long since run dry — which only made it more ridiculous, and more wretched.
She rested her hands on my shoulders, looked into the mirror with me, and whispered against my ear.
"The ears are done. Now for the tail?"
Her hand picked up the puppy tail. She laid it across her other palm like a switch and bounced it lightly up and down.
"All right — present your ass."
I stood, planted both hands on the vanity, and bent at the waist. A humiliating posture that laid every shameful part of me bare to her. The towel slipped, and my ass was fully exposed. I felt the cool air on bare skin.
Veronica's finger traced the cleft of my ass. A strange sensation raised goosebumps. She rubbed my hole with a gel-slicked finger, working the tense muscle this way and that, coaxing it to loosen. The clenched ring slowly lost its grip.
"Nngh—"
Veronica didn't miss the opening. Her index finger slid in. The feeling of something entering my body was thoroughly unpleasant.
Slap—!
When the foreign sensation made my hips jerk, she smacked my ass with her open palm.
"What am I supposed to do if you're already like this? I still have to put in something bigger than a finger."
So saying, she stirred her finger inside me. My hands tightened on the vanity.
How much time had passed? By the time Leopold's legs were trembling and his cock stood stiff, Veronica began slathering gel onto the plug. At last, it was time to put this into Katrina.
She spread Katrina's trembling ass. The hole, well loosened, looked soft and yielding. She pressed the plug against it, easing it in little by little. At first it wouldn't go, but when she applied steady pressure the hole began to open and take it in — the sensation of something hard and cold forcing its way into the body, a foreignness of an entirely different order from a finger. Katrina's anus instinctively tried to push the plug back out.
SMACK—!
"Relax. You'll hurt yourself."
Veronica struck Katrina's ass harder than before, then pushed the plug in again. The hole slowly opened its mouth to swallow it. Once the widest part was past, the rest vanished in an instant. Katrina's anus gulped the plug down.
"Ahhk..."
A heavy pressure filling the belly. It was only about the size of an egg. No one would have guessed it would feel like this. Tears pricked at her eyes. The prostate was pressed and pressed again, and a strange sensation wrapped her lower belly.
Veronica gave the newly seated tail a little tug. Katrina's anus clung to the plug as if it didn't want to let it go. Veronica let out a satisfied breath.
"That must have hurt, for a first time. What a good girl."
Katrina had gone limp, half-collapsed. Veronica stroked her hair. What the mirror showed was neither Leopold nor Katrina. It was a puppy, basking in its master's love.
Veronica took the tip of the tail and wagged it from side to side. It looked exactly as though a puppy were wagging its tail.
"Aww, does our puppy want to go for a walk?"
"What are you t— hiihk♡!"
"Then we'd better go for a walk. Come on."
A peculiar situation, in which it was the master, not the puppy, who wanted the walk. When the puppy tried to protest, the master seized the tail in a firm grip. Katrina couldn't even manage a proper resistance. She crumpled with a cry.
Veronica opened a drawer and took out a red leash. She fastened it gently around Katrina's panting throat. The vivid scarlet against that snow-white skin made for a seductive contrast.