Sleeping in Starlight

So all day he's been on his hands and knees, following you around the house in an eager crawl. He has a pretty pink collar buckled tightly around his neck and you can see it bob up and down with his Adam's apple every time he swallows. The tiny silver tag which has your name engraved into it, marking him as yours, sways and glints in the light. He's naked, otherwise, of course, because puppies don't wear clothes, do they, Ken? His only other accessories are the little pair of ears on a headband nestled within is blond hair, and the tail plug that he took so wonderfully when you put it in this morning.

The two of you played fetch earlier - you made him bring you back the little rubber ball between his teeth so many times that he actually flopped down exhausted at your feet like a mutt when you were done - and you've fed him chocolates from your hand when he barked for you on command.

Now? Now he's sitting between your legs, hands spread on either one of your thighs, as he looks longingly at the treat at the apex of your thighs which you haven't yet given him permission to enjoy.

"Hold, puppy," you say with a chuckle, earning a desperate whimper from the depths of his throat. You're not sure if he's noticed but he's started to sway his ass left and right, just a little, giving the impression of the way an actual dog would wag its tail. You feel sort of mean, but you know Ken likes it when you remind him who's in charge.

"Having trouble obeying? Aww, it's okay. Speak."

Your one command which means he's allowed to use his words.

"Please let me taste you, please, please, please," he begs. "You're right there... and you look so good... I'll make you feel nice, I promise, I wouldn't let you down..."

"I know, baby, I know, but if I give in right now, it's not much of an obedience exercise, is it?" you ask. He makes a pained noise so, in response, you cup his face with your hand and scatch behind his ear. He nuzzles into your palm as he seeks out your warmth.

"Please..." he whispers, and you give a full-bodied sigh, knowing that you're far too lenient with him.

"Okay... release."

Upon hearing the command, Ken dives for you, so fast and overjoyed that you're knocked back into the pile of pillows on the sofa. He laps at you eagerly, tasting your arousal from its source, tongue exploring every delicious part of you. His eyes roll back in pleasure just from being able to serve you like this.

You hook a finger into his collar in order to drag him closer against your hot skin, and the moan he lets out reverberates all the way along your fucking spine.

"Good boy, Ken," you mutter, getting lost in the way his mouth laves along you. He's a little too enthusiastic, there's a bit more teeth than you'd like, but you can't fault him for eagerness. Nothing a muzzle can't fix, after all.

His tongue dances where you need it most, licks up the evidence of your excitement, and then you're orgasming onto the hot plain of muscle. He works you through it beautifully and you can feel something wet against your leg. A quick glance down reveals that he's come just from giving you oral. Oh fuck, it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

"Did I do good?" he asks as he sits back on his haunches, panting, lips wet with your release.

"You did great. But you've left a big mess," you say, nodding to the little puddle he's left, his cock still dripping shiny pearls of it. "Clean it up with your mouth for me, okay?"

He's so quick to obey that it's like a sort of like an erotic sucker punch. As you watch him lick up his own orgasm from your hardwood floor, you think this might be the most enraptured you've ever been.