A Walk, Part 2
The one she'd collided with went down in a heap, landing hard on their rear. She'd been certain no one else would be out during break. Apparently she wasn't the only soul in the mansion with too much on her mind.
"I'm sor—"
She rushed to apologize. When you don't know who you've run into, saying sorry first is always the wiser course. But the instant she saw who had fallen, Emma's thoughts simply stopped.
Anyone would have been stunned. The scene before her belonged in a dream. And the reality unfolding at her feet was filthier than any dream she had ever had.
A body of pure, unblemished white, wearing nothing at all. Puppy ears standing stiff and pointed above a face locked in terror. A crimson collar fastened around the throat, a golden bell dangling from its ring. And a furred tail jutting out from the cleft of those buttocks.
What's more, she could have sworn she caught the lewd, musky scent of a male.
The face she kept so carefully blank twisted of its own accord. Her hands clenched until they shook.
This filthy male dog—right here, right now—
"Oh my— Emma."
It was Veronica's voice that yanked Emma back to herself, just as she was about to reach for Katrina. Only then did she realize her lady was standing there, and she bowed her head in a hurry.
Veronica was smiling, as if the entire situation delighted her.
"Out for a walk yourself?"
"Ah—my lady! I—that is, I only stepped out for some air..."
She was so flustered the words came out in a disjointed tumble. Nothing remained of the cool, impeccable composure she wore every other hour of the day. Veronica was not the sort to miss a reaction like that.
She gave a light tug on the leash of Katrina, who was still sitting on the floor.
"Our puppy ought to apologize to Emma, don't you think?"
Katrina tried to push himself up on shaking limbs, but his legs would not hold him. He stayed on his knees and hung his head. Shame burned so hot he thought his face might split apart.
Of all people, it had to be Emma. The woman who used to stare at him with open contempt, who had lately begun to look at him with something like pity—and he was showing her this. This wretched, ruined state.
He curled in on himself, trying to make his naked body smaller, trying to hide what he could. Then, in a voice that barely crawled out of his throat, he apologized.
"...I-I'm sorry."
Veronica shook her head, unsatisfied.
"That's not it."
Her voice was sharp as a blade.
Katrina's shoulders jerked hard. He hesitated for a moment, then his face settled into resignation as he slowly lowered himself. Both hands on the floor, knees planted, ass thrust high toward the sky. Beyond those plump, inviting buttocks, the tail could be seen trembling.
The truth was, Katrina had no idea what posture a dog used to apologize. The position he'd assumed was closer to the formal prostration known in the East as dogeza. But what did that matter? That humiliating posture poured oil straight onto the fire already burning in Emma's chest.
She swallowed without meaning to. An obscene, degrading spectacle. Especially the base of the plug visible between those spread cheeks—it was truly...
Heat bloomed low in her belly.
"Woof... woof, I'm sorry... wooof..."
A voice on the verge of tears. A bizarre apology, human language tangled up with the sounds of a beast.
A warm trickle—in that instant, Emma felt a tingling heat bloom between her thighs. The inside of her panties began to grow damp.
She needed to take back what she'd thought about this being a scene from a dream. Even in her dreams, she had never witnessed a posture or a situation this filthy.
Veronica watched the little farce in silence, then approached her.
"Emma."
At that low call, the excitement boiling inside her receded for a moment. She collected herself and answered her lady.
"Yes, my lady."
"Isn't our puppy adorable?"
Veronica tugged the leash and lifted Katrina's head. That tearful face filled Emma's eyes—a pitiful expression that stoked the fires of cruelty.
"Come here and touch him, why don't you?"
"Y... yes?"
Emma asked again, certain she must have misheard. She hadn't.
"Come closer and pet him. He likes being petted, you know."
Veronica drove the wedge in and hammered it home for good measure. Emma looked back and forth between her lady and Katrina. Then, as if she had made up her mind, she put on a resolute expression and stepped toward him.
One step. Then another. The closer Emma came, the more terror flooded Katrina's face.
Emma stopped in front of him and slowly bent her knees, bringing their eyes level. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing already short. She looked like a girl on the verge of her first time—or like a child who had just been handed the birthday present she'd been wishing for.
She reached a trembling hand toward him. Katrina flinched instinctively and squeezed his eyes shut.
Emma's fingertips touched the head with the puppy ears attached. The skin was cold to the touch, and yet a subtle heat radiated from beneath it.
"Nnh...!"
Emma's hand stroked his head gently. Careful and soft, the way you'd treat a real puppy. The comfort those fingers offered mixed with the shame until his mind was a complete wreck.
"Well? The fur is so soft, isn't it?"
"Yes... my lady..."
Emma kept stroking Katrina's head like someone under a spell. Her touch grew bolder, leaving his hair and traveling downward. The hand that slipped behind my ears and down the nape of my neck kneaded my skin the way you'd play with clay.
"Try the tail too. It's been swaying this whole time—looks like it's begging to be touched."
At those words, Emma's hand paused. Her gaze drifted naturally to Katrina's ass.
Those buttocks still thrust high toward the sky. And from the deep cleft of that valley, a pure white tail swaying gently.
Emma hesitated for a moment. But that lewd figure demolished the dam of her reason with almost no effort at all. Her hand slid down Katrina's back, gliding slowly toward its target. Goosebumps rose at the sensation of her fingers tracing bare skin. She counted each protruding vertebra as her hand moved, unhurried, until at last it arrived at its destination.
The hand that reached his ass clenched and unclenched, as if nervous.
"Hnn..."
Emma carefully stroked the tail. Even that faint stimulation drew a piteous breath from Katrina.
To get this aroused from just having his tail stroked. If I grabbed that tail tight and shook it hard from side to side—or if I simply yanked it out, the way you'd pull a radish from the ground—would this pathetic young nobleman cum, sobbing like a little girl?
...Wait. Why am I even thinking about this? I could just do it.
"Hhk♡?"
Emma seized the base of the tail in a rough grip. She squeezed so hard the base of the plug peeked out slightly. A sharp, high moan burst from Katrina's mouth.
She started shoving the tail inward, as if she meant to push it even deeper into his ass. The plug that had already been pressing against his prostate now crushed it as if it meant to destroy it. His back arched on its own from the violent mix of pain and pleasure. At the same time, a clear bead of dew gathered at the tip of his flushed, reddened cockhead.
"Looks like touching the tail was the right call after all."
Advice that only pushed someone already overflowing with courage even further. With her free hand, Emma gently caressed the inside of Katrina's thigh.
"Stop...! I was wrong! Stooop...♡"
He didn't know what he'd done wrong. But he begged for forgiveness. He pleaded desperately. And still Emma did not stop. Instead, her hand moved somewhere even more intimate.
The hand stroking his thigh approached his slack, dangling balls. A soft, yielding texture. She rolled them in her palm like a toy, then tugged them taut.
"Nngh...♡"
His cock twitched and spilled a gush of pre-cum. Emma was too busy devouring Katrina's body. She was no longer her lady's maid. In this moment, she was closer to a female in heat, consumed with taking a male.
Veronica stood with her arms folded, watching the entire scene with interest. The truth was, she hadn't known Emma harbored such designs on Katrina. She'd always seemed to hate him so much, always wanting him gone. But if it was Emma... well, that was fine. A maid who didn't know her place would be another matter, but Emma understood her position perfectly. And it helped that Katrina had become thoroughly hers, and that the old restlessness and jealousy had largely died down.
Of course, that was only on the condition that Emma didn't cross the line.
"Hah...♡ Hnngh..."
I twisted against Emma's hands, trying to resist. Then, all at once, my eyes met hers.
The look that used to hold contempt, or pity, was gone. Something else had taken its place. Her eyes were full of rapture and the hunger to conquer.
I knew that look. I had seen it in Veronica more times than I could count.
A vicious terror crashed over me. It was a learned fear, and I had no power to fight it. Tears were about to break from my eyes when Veronica spoke.
"Oh my—break time is almost over."
"Ah..."
With that short, falling breath, Emma's hands went still.