The Best Circle Of Hell

He had laughed in your face the first time you suggested that, only to choke on his mirth when he saw how deathly serious you were. He’d tried to argue, naturally, but you presented an awfully compelling case. He was messy and erratic, making complete filth of his bedsheets which you would then have to wash because he’s too scared of the noises the washing machine makes. He’d chew the pillows to bits and hump every piece of furniture in the house, and no matter how much you scrubbed or washed or sprayed his thick musk would be stuck on the fabric for weeks. Not to mention he had no idea when to stop, he was practically addicted to it; he’d go and go and go until he made himself pass out. It was for the benefit of you both that he be reigned in. 

He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but he concedes to the rules you set nonetheless. It’s just one of the many things he had to give up when you took him off the street and gave him the cushy life of a human. It was a big adjustment, yes, and although for the most part every change has been for the better, it’s times like these he wonders where he’d be if he was still feral. 

Certainly not as frustrated, that’s for sure. 

He’s been watching you from your bed for a while now, staring at your back as you click click click away at your keyboard with nary a fleeting glance at him. The first few days he whined, but gave up on that rather quickly when you didn’t budge. He barked a couple of times, but all that got him was a few coos and gentle shushes of pity. At this point, you don’t have the time or energy to keep explaining to him why you can’t play. He’s heard the same response enough times to know it by heart, anyways. 

The longer he sits here, the more restless he gets. The more restless he gets, the more his mind wanders, and his mind wanders to dirty places far too easily. When boredom seeps into his brain, he combats it with some rather lewd fantasies. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, and in that split second an entire film of utter pornographic depravity plays on the back of his eyelids, memories of your bare body flashing through his mind. 

 It becomes far too much for him to bear rather quickly, and soon the full weight of Toby’s frustration is weighing heavy on him. He squirms on his back, nearly whimpering at just the slight friction of his boxers on his hardening member. 

He just can’t do this anymore! 

He practically throws himself off of the bed, hitting the ground with a hard thud. In the next moment he’s over your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck and whining softly. He sighs with relief when you actually reach up to scratch his head, although your free hand never leaves the keyboard. 

“Hey, puppy,” you say softly, without looking at him. You take your hand away far too quickly, and Toby whines when you pull your fingers out of his messy hair. He nuzzles you again, with a bit more intensity this time. 

“C’mon, Toby, I’m busy right now,” you say with a sigh. Toby huffs in annoyance. 

Dammit. So close. 

He can still feel the heat in his loins growing more and more by the second. This just won’t do. 

The next thing he knows he’s sitting between your legs, looking up at you from the floor. His heart flutters when you glance down at him with a soft smile, briefly tousling his hair in an almost condescending gesture, which earns another huff of irritation from Toby. 

“I’m sorry, pup, really I am,” you explain, “but I just can’t right now. I promise, as soon as I’m done I’ll do whatever you want. I just need you to be patient for a bit longer.” 

That wasn’t anywhere near the answer he was hoping for. 

He grumbles and leans in, shamelessly burying his face in your groin. He inhales deeply, tail thumping against the ground as he makes a show of taking in your scent. He smirks to himself when he feels you jump. 

“Toby, c’mon, don’t be like that—“ you start, but he cuts you off with a growl.  That makes you raise an eyebrow. 

You’ve seen him do this before. This is your cue. 

That’s how he lets you know he wants to play rough, and he’s ready to be treated like a brat. 

Of course, you oblige. It’s the least you could do, really. 

“Oh, you dumb mutt,” you hiss, and you can practically feel the smile he’s holding back, “can’t you behave for once in your life? You know damn well you aren’t supposed to be doing this.”

You have to hold back a grin of your own when the incessant wagging of his tail only picks up the pace. 

You feign annoyance with a heavy sigh, sharply turning your head to look back up at your computer. You carry on with your typing, ignoring the feeling of Toby shifting against you.

That is, until you feel his hips start to grind against your leg. 

Oh, fuck. 

It takes everything in you not to drop everything you’ve been working on right then and there, and  you even feel a slight pang of guilt when he whines that high pitched whine at you. 

You take in a deep breath. You exhale slowly. 

You have to stay strong. If you give in now, he’ll never learn. 

And besides, it’s so much more fun when you’re tough. 

“Toby. You haven’t been given permission,” you state firmly. This only earns an even more pitiful whimper from him. You resist the urge to bite your lip. 

“…Bad. Bad dog.” 

The words hold no weight. It only makes Toby hump your leg with more fervor. 

You shift your leg with intent, shuddering at the little yelp that Toby lets out when it rubs against his bulge. He’s already soaking the front of his sweatpants. 

“God, can’t you go ten minutes without begging to get your cock wet?” you growl. 

A shaky giggle manages to make its way through his gritted teeth. He nuzzles against your knee, and you can feel him looking up at you with those big, hazel eyes despite the fact that your gaze is fixed firmly on your monitor. He’s getting exactly what he wants, and you can’t even be mad. 

You do your best not to show how much this is affecting you. You force yourself to not look down at him, to keep your shoulders relaxed and your typing at its regular pace. 

“…You’re breaking the rules, and you know it.” 

For just a moment you feel Toby’s hips stutter at that. Then they’re only moving faster, his bulge desperately rubbing against your leg as endless whines fall from his lips. 

Oh, he’s just begging for more. 

“Stupid dog,” you spit, and you could swear his cock twitches at that, “Don’t you have any self control? I can feel you leaving a stain on my pant leg. Where’s your dignity?” 

He moans in response, and you feel him rest his chin on your knee. He’s panting heavily now. 

“I really should keep you on a leash,” you muse aloud, feigning thought, “If you keep acting like an animal, I’ll chain you up and treat you like one. You can’t get into any trouble if you’re stuck in the backyard, can you?” 

He growls, but it’s not aggressive; it’s desperate. It’s a needy rumbling in his throat that wants more. 

You shift your leg again, making a subtle effort to aid him in his release. 

He’s huffing and puffing like a freight train. Just hearing the sound makes you miss feeling his warm breath on your neck. 

“…P…P-Please,” Toby stammers, and your eyes widen a bit. 

It’s rare for him to use real words when he can growl and whine to get his point across, but now he’s using his voice to plead. 

Oh, God…

You inhale deeply once again, your breath shakier than before. 

You finally give in. 

You take your hands off the keyboard, resting them on the arms of your chair instead as you lean back. The way Toby lights up the moment you make eye contact, that dumb little smile that crosses his face and makes his entire expression go lopsided with a lust-drunk haze. 

“Go on then,” you order with a nod, your voice a bit more gentle than you meant for it to be, “make a mess. You’ll take the consequences for this, won’t you?”

He nods eagerly, and you’re not even bothered by the pool of drool he’s leaving on your pant leg. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you watch him. His desperation is evident on his face, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he loses himself to the feeling of an impending (and much needed) release. 

“Oh, you’re just a dumb little pup, aren’t you?” you tease, only to be met with a slurred chant of ‘Yes, yes yes.’  You’re surprised he can speak at all with the way his tongue hangs limply out of his mouth like a useless appendage. 

He’s losing the slight semblance of a steady pace he once had. He’s getting close, and all that matters now is getting to the end.  He needs this. 

He can’t control his voice anymore. Each whine or moan is louder than the last, until he’s practically screaming. He’s nearly sobbing, both from the pleasure and the overwhelming relief of finally getting what he’s craved all week. He’s so close, so damn close. 

There’s just one thing that’ll push him over the edge. 

“…Go on.  Cum for me like a good boy.”

Toby nearly chokes on his breath. 

A tremor rocks his body as he releases without warning, his sticky release shooting through the fabric keeping his cock contained and leaving a warm sensation on your leg. The last moan that leaves him is completely pathetic, and soon his voice melts into nothing but barely audible whimpers. Slowly but surely his erratic grinding comes to a stop, and the only sound is his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He rests his head on your knee, now leaning against you completely since he can’t support himself. 

You take a moment to appreciate the sight of your puppy; all tuckered out, brunette hair flicking out in all directions, and barely conscious. 

Adorable. 

You reach out and gently pet his head, scratching his scalp right on that spot that makes his leg twitch. 

“Look at me, pup,” you order, and he obeys. His eyes are lidded, but he still has the energy to give you a tired smile. You return the gesture. 

“Mm…I hope you know you’re in big, big trouble.”

Toby nods, his grin only widening. He doesn’t regret anything. 

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THIS WAS SUCH A FUN EDIT TO MAAAKE RAAAAAH

THIS WAS SUCH A FUN EDIT TO MAAAKE RAAAAAH