You order me to get into the bed, and I growl, before deciding to comply. I've been your good puppy for as long as you can remember, obedient and loyal. But recently it's been harder and harder to get me to listen.
But you're still a dom, right?
I fought out of your grasp for the first time last week. You were caught off guard - it's my first time ever fighting back and winning. You only briefly let yourself stay pinned, but a small part of you wishes you would've lingered a little longer.
But you're still a dom, right?
I haven't responded to a single command you've given in days. You've all but given up trying to give me commands at this point.
But you're still a dom, right?
You start responding to more and more demeaning names. It's slow, progressive, and methodical. Darling, Angel, Pet, Toy, Whore. You don't realize when it changes, you just notice one day that it has, and you can't bring yourself to do anything about it.
But you're still a dom, right?
I bought you a collar yesterday, for today's party. You feel something deep in you that wants the collar to be on tonight, and something deeper that wishes it was on even sooner.
But you're still a dom, right?
You're pinned against the wall, paws over your head, leash in my hand. I absolutely ravage your delicious body and you don't do anything but whimper and beg. How bad you want me is obvious to everyone at the party.
But you're not the dom anymore, are you?
You're bent over on our couch, barking and whimpering as you feel my strap ruin you. You begged me for this for so long, and how could I deny those pathetic little puppy eyes of yours?
You're just my puppy now, aren't you?
I take you on a walk, clicking the leash to your collar. You bark in excitement as we leave the house, you blissfully unaware of how conditioned you've been, and just how far you've fallen.
