Recursion C.1.

RECURSION

C.1.

Jo and Olive step into their hotel room and Olive says, “So it’s that kind of hotel…”

Jo blushes and laughs, “But it’s not!”

Olive rolls her eyes and gestures around the room: the dark four-poster bed studded with steel D-rings, the deep shag carpet, the steel frames, the swing, the bookshelf loaded with sex toys, the dog cage, the wall hung with paddles and chains. She raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Jo says, “It’s exactly that kind of hotel.”

Olive laughs and walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. She pushes her long red hair over her shoulder and smirks, it’s been a long time since she was in a room like this. She remembers those early fetish photoshoots: of being so young and thin, barely twenty-two, wearing latex or leather, chained and mostly naked, trying to look sexy for the camera. Thankfully she’d always been hooded or masked, so it’s stayed a fun secret instead of some impending internet blackmail. Olive blushes, she’d found the whole experience naughty fun, maybe more than a bit sexy…

Jo wanders over to the bookshelf of sex toys and starts to poke around. There’s a rainbow of dildos of varying sizes and materials, including some with inhuman proportions and shapes. Jo grins and hefts a pointed cock with a round bulge; canine she supposes after careful inspection. There are a variety of handcuffs and binders, anal beads, butt plugs, different types of gags, a latex hood, an arsenal of vibrators, a leather dog collar, and a plastic bone-shaped dog toy. Jo picks up the dog bone, gives it a cheery squeak in her hand. She grins and pops the toy into her mouth, and turns to show Olive. She spins around and…

“Squeak!”

Olive is laid out provocatively on the bed in her nicest underwear, those special dark green bra and panties, legs posed just so, hair loose, head tilted, and a practiced needy pout on her lips. Olive licks those lips: “Why don’t we make the most of it?”

“Squeak!”

Olive gracefully slides off the bed, runway struts across the room, confident and sexy. Jo is drooling around her bone toy and feels arousal bloom in her belly. If she had a tail it would be wagging. Bow-wow! Olive steps up to her wife, tilts the shorter woman’s chin up, studies the squeaky dog toy, and wipes drool from her chin. Olive licks her lips, moues at the naughty hotel room, whispers, “When in Rome.” She browses the shelf of sex toys critically and selects the dog collar. Olive pushes Jo’s hair aside, and slips the collar around her neck. Jo’s eyes go wide, her heart beats faster, her jaw trembles on the squeaky bone in her mouth. Olive slips leather through buckle, pulls it tighter, snug against Jo’s throat, and pushes the steel prong through a notch hole, fastening the collar to her wife. Olive slips a slender finger under the collar, tugs on it, murmurs, “Who’s my good girl?”

“Squeak!” Jo feels a weird spark, a tingle, that races down her spine.

Olive tries to take the rubber bone from Jo’s mouth, but Jo does not want to give away her toy! She fights, tugging, almost growling, covetous and thrilled at the game. “Bad! Drop it!”

Jo’s ears twitch and she whines a little, but opens her mouth and let’s Olive have her bone. “Good girl,” Olive says, holding the bone up. Jo smiles, too pleased at the praise! She can feel a happy tingle in her rear!

Olive grins, “Speak!”

Jo frowns, licks her lips, blushes. This is too silly. “Olive…”

“Bad girl! Dogs don't talk.” Olive bops her lightly on the nose with the bone, “Speak!”

Jo cringes back and obediently says: “Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”

Olive bites her lip, intrigued by the game, the feeling of control. Her cheeks are flush and her green panties are wet to the touch. “Jo, dogs don’t wear clothes. Strip!”

Jo barks happily, struggles out of her polo and slacks and practical underwear. She stands naked and trembling with excitement and shame. She’s starting to pant a little, subconsciously rocks her hips. 

“Good girl,” Olive says, her voice dripping with affection. She pokes around on the toyshelf and pulls put a leather leash. She clips it on to Jo’s collar and tugs on it. “Time for your walk,” she says with a giddy smile.

Olive turns and starts to walk, sashaying, across the hotel room. Jo stares at her ass, ogles her wife, but yelps when the leash goes taut, sharply yanks her neck. Jo stumbles forward, following her wife, no, being led by her wife! By her mistress. “Down!” Olive commands and Jo blushes, contemplates resisting, but drops obediently to her hands and knees, crawls, like a pet. Walked like a dog. Round and round the room. Her face burns with shame, but her cunt aches with need. “Good girl,” Olive says warmly. 

“Heel,” Olive says, “Sit!”

Jo drops to her bum to the floor in a canine crouch, tailbone twitching, cheeks rosy and burning “Good girl.”

“Stay,” Olive commands, bending down to unclip the leash. “Stayyyyy…”

Olive struts away, unhooks her green bra, drops it to the floor, exposing her high petite breasts with their splash of dark freckles. Jo’s tongue slips out of her mouth, panting. Olive chews her lip, artfully slips her panties down past her hips, down her long lean thighs, calves, ankles, steps free, nude. Jo barks, tries to crawl forward, wiggling, so eager!

“No! Stay!” Olive says with a smile playing at her lips.

Jo whines, fidgets, but obeys, watches her mistress slink across the room to the wall hung with whips and paddles and chains. Jo feels a burble of nervousness, just what is her mistress thinking? Olive taps her chin, theatrical, drawing it out, knowing that Jo is staring. She fingers a paddle, reconsiders, lifts a riding crop, taps it against her free hand, bends it, takes a few testing swipes, puts it back on the wall. Olive isn’t really into dishing out the sadism, even if the control is kind of fun. Olive blushes, in fact she’d rather be the damsel in distress, if perhaps a rather bossy one. She picks up a set of manacles, thick steel cuffs joined by a single metal link. She smiles at Jo, closes the manacle around her right wrist with a resounding click, some sort of lock engaging. She tugs on it experimentally and shivers when the manacle stays firmly closed. Olive turns away from her obedient pet wife and places her shackled wrist behind her back. She sticks her tongue between her teeth, frowns in concentration, places her free wrist inside the other manacle, squirms, feels the cuff slap shut, hears the click of the clasp. Jo tugs on her arms uselessly, the manacles are locked, her wrists are trapped behind her. She rolls her shoulders, already a bit uncomfortable, blows out a breath and turns back to her pet. “Well, girl, let’s up the game shall we?”

“Ruff!” Jo barks, her tailbone twitching.

Olive struts to the bed, walking up on the balls of her feet like a dancer. Her bound arms pull her shoulders back, force her posture upright, push up her small tits. Olive feels elegant, beautiful, but deliciously helpless. She sits on the edge of the bed, back straight and legs spread wide, her aching engorged cunt presented, wet and pink and hungry. Olive takes a long shuddering breath, she’s powerless to relieve herself. 

Jo’s nose twitches, she can smell the spicy musk of Olive’s arousal. She wriggles, her tongue is out of her mouth panting; she can nearly taste Olive’s pussy. She whines, paws at the floor, takes a half step forward.

“Stay!” moans Olive, trembling with her own need.

Jo whines, sits back onto her haunches, but is impatient, her body squirming with excitement.

“Stay….”

Jo obeys, barely, her heart hammering, her pussy aching, her nose drunk with the perfume of her mistress’ cunt.

Olive is gasping, her body is on fire to be touched, to be used. “Come!” She moans.

Jo barks, crawls to her mistress in a rush, scrambling on all fours. She buries her nose in her mistress’ cunt, snuffling, snorting, breathing in her scent, her nostrils all wet. Olive moans, arches her aching shoulders, clenches her trapped hands. Jo licks Olive’s pussy, once, long and slow, the pungent spice of cunt flodding her mouth. Olive gasps “Good girl…” and Jo licks again, and again, excitedly lapping at the cunt, making Olive groan and squirm, clench her thighs, making her pant. “Good girl…” she moans. Jo’s tail starts to wag.

Olive is in heaven, her heart racing, bursts of pleasure roaring from her cunt, waves of a building tide of orgasm. Jo’s tongue feels so big and strong and warm. Olive feels her hands go tingly and numb in her cuffs. She doesn’t want to stop, rolls her wrists, tries to get comfortable, feels her arms come free? The shackles snapped? Holds up an arm and gasps! Her hand is gone! Her limb capped with steel mid-forearm. And so is her other arm! Olive has no hands! She’s an amputee! Olive moans, almost comes, stares with horrified arousal at her truncated limbs, notices that the silver caps are climbing higher! Eating her arms! Consuming her limbs up to the elbows!

“Jo?” Olive moans in aroused dismay. She looks down at her wife, still enthusiastically eating her pussy and sees a wagging blonde furry tail! A canine tail! Attached to her wife! “Jo!” Jo looks up and Olive gasps! Her wife has a black dog nose and floppy velvety canine ears. Jo opens her mouth and barks, truly barks, a perfect natural dog bark, and pounces back on her cunt. “Jo…..” Olive whimpers, looks at her shrinking arms, now barely nubs, now just smooth armless shoulders as if Olive was born entirely without limbs. Olive moans, gasps, orgasms! Legs clamping on Jo, body arching, falling onto her back, twisting. “Jo… stop….”

But Jo doesn’t stop, she growls playfully, keeps lapping at her mistress’ cunt, fixated. “Bad girl! Down!” Olive squirms, wants to push her wife away, but can’t! She doesn’t have the arms for it! She’s helpless! Powerless! Olive moans, overcome with her sexy new predicament. “Bad girl! Bad!” Jo’s tail only wags harder, her tongue lapping faster, harder too. Olive feels another orgasm building, one she can’t stop at all, defenceless, exposed, and she squeals and thrashes as she comes again! 

Olive whimpers, “Stop,” she begs, “oh fuck…” as Jo keeps eating her cunt. Won’t stop, huge tongue driving Olive to come again and again and again until… driven by exhaustion.. they both collapse…

They fade into sleep>>>