Underdoggy

doggy style

“Come on, Mills,” Peter said, his voice laced with suppressed irritation, “I am trying to read the paper.”
For only a split-second Millie looked at him, but then she bent over him again and shower his head with kisses.
“But I just looooooovvvvveeeee you sooooooo much,” she sang, giggling as she saw the corner of his mouth pulling up, only for the smile quickly to disappear again.
“Mills, can you sit still for five minutes?”
“I can tryyyy-yyyy.”
Millie sat down on the couch and in exaggerating moves she put her feet next to each other, clenched her knees together and folded her hands in her lap. She tried to wipe the smile from her face, but failed.

She turned her eyes to look at Peter, who seemed lost in his paper again. Millie inched a bit closer to the edge of the coach, still watching Peter. He didn’t seem to notice. Another forward movement, but he’s still keeping his eyes on the words in front of him. Soon she slipped off the couch to her knees. Peter’s face was now hidden, but he seemed to keep on reading. A giggle bubbled up inside, but she pushed it down. Slowly she crawled towards him and then, sniffing loudly, she moved her nose up the inside of his leg, towards his crotch and lifted the paper with her head.

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” Peter said, looking down at her. There was love in his eyes, but the expression on his face was strict.
“Doggy wants to play,” Millie said and then something sounding like “woof” before she buried her face in his crotch, almost crying with laughter. She had never done something like this before. Yes, she had teased him before, many times, but she had never pretended to be a dog. Millie didn’t see the smile on Peter’s face before his stern voice sounded: “Upstairs. Now! You know what you need to do.”

Millie still had a huge smile on her face as she looked up at him. One look and she knew she might have gone too far. She wanted to get up, but her mischief was not over yet. She crawled towards the door and swung her ass from side to side, pretending to wag her tail. Once out of sight she stood up, took a deep breath and ran up the stairs. There would be consequences. That much was clear. When Peter came upstairs she would stand in the corner of the room, legs spread and her hands on her back.

But would she?

Once in the bedroom, Millie quickly undressed and got on the bed. She was on all fours. Since she started her doggy act downstairs, she could just as well continue it. Somehow she knew this might not turn out like she had in mind right at that moment, but she was willing to face the consequences.

Millie thought she heard Peter miss a step when he entered the bedroom and saw her on the edge of the bed, and not where he thought she would be. She heard him move around, and not knowing what he was doing, him not saying anything to her made her doubt her actions. Next thing she cried out in pain as something – she had no idea what – landed across her behind. It wasn’t his hand, of that she was sure. A paddle? Whip? Cane? What stunned her even more is that he didn’t warm her up like he normally would do. When the next flash of pain made her yelp and stretch her legs to move away from the pain, he spoke: “Stay in position. You want to be a doggy, I’ll make sure you know exactly where your tail is.”

Millie frowned at his words, wondering if he heard how silly they sounded, but she said nothing.
“Wag that tail, Mills!”
At first she didn’t move, until the fire burned across her buttocks again.
“I said: wag that tail!”
She swung her hips from side to side, and soon realized that it didn’t mind whether she ‘wagged her tail’ or not. The paddle – she had seen it in his hand when she glanced backwards – would land on her behind regardless. Peter kept on telling her to wag her tail and each time she did, he swung the paddle.

“I love it when you’re my little doggy,” Peter said and swung the paddle.
“That’s what you wanted, right Mills, to be my doggy.”
“My sweet little doggy with her beautiful red tail.”
Each time he said something, Millie didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry, and each time he answered himself by paddling her.
“It seems my doggy is enjoying this tail-wagging-paddling.”
Millie wanted to laugh, but the pain made her moan. She heard the paddle swishing through the air again and braced herself for the impact, which was much harder than any of the others.

His hands on her hips surprised her, as does his cock when he pushed in deep and hard. His balls slapped against her cunt and each time he slammed into her, her bottom hurt.
“Fucking. My. Doggy.”
With each word he pushed in hard.
“My. Doggy. Under. Me.”
Millie was merely there for his own pleasure. He pushed hard a couple of times more and then, just like with the paddling, the last push seemed to be harder than any of the others.
“My. Underdoggy!” Peter moaned the words and kept still. Millie felt the twitching as he spurted his come deep inside her. Peter grunted until his balls were empty.

Peter pushed her forward with his body and together they fell on the bed. He hugged her, her back to his chest, and kissed her neck, whispering: “Now let’s talk about his doggy-thing.”

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© Rebel’s Notes

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