Mistress was still curled under Mike’s arm, casually reviewing the last photo on the camera, her foot lazily brushing against my thigh as if I were part of the furniture. She smiled, amused but not satisfied.
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"This is cute," she said thoughtfully, zooming in on the shot. "But not… enough."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
She turned to him with a smirk. "He looks too presentable. I want something more interesting. Let’s take another one. I have an idea."
My stomach dropped. I didn’t move. That always made it worse.
She turned her attention to me. "Bitch. Go fetch your tail plug. The long one, the little faux-fur one. And bring me the lube. Now."
I scrambled to obey, legs still stiff from kneeling. My face was still sticky from earlier and I could feel the faint ache from where she’d slapped me. I found the tail plug in the drawer with its ridiculous furry length trailing behind the base like some cruel joke and returned to her with my head bowed.
She took it from me without a word, then ran her fingers slowly through the tail, inspecting it like it was a prized accessory.
"Good puppy," she said.
She motioned for me to turn around. I obeyed lifting my ass up fully knowing what's coming next.
She chuckled "Such a needy whore. I know you want it badly but at least let me apply the lube."
She smacked my bum. I filled with shame at her words.
She knelt beside me, warm and deliberate. Her touch wasn’t cruel, it was measured, knowing exactly how much tension and tenderness to mix together. One hand rested on my hip while the other reached back between my cheeks.
"Let’s get you properly dressed," she murmured, gently easing the existing plug out. My breath hitched as the cool air rushed over the newly exposed gap. I felt vulnerable, emptied and exposed. Marked by the absence of something I’d grown to expect.
"Don’t be so dramatic," she muttered. "We both know your needy little hole misses being filled."
She set the old plug aside and reached for the lube, squeezing some onto the new one. "I want this one in for the photo. Every mutt needs a tail." she said. "It suits your place in this family."
Her words weren’t cruel, but they cut right through me all the same.
When she pressed the new plug to my entrance, I didn’t resist. She slid it in slowly, firmly, her hand steady against my lower back. I groaned more from the shame than the sensation. The tail flopped gently between my thighs, a visible, degrading marker of what I’d become.
"Tail up. Show it off, puppy." she ordered.
I arched slightly, the plug shifting with every movement. The tail swayed softly behind me. Mistress adjusted my tail, brushing the tail so it arched up and out. Then she moved around to face me again and cupped my jaw gently.
"Raise your head high. Mouth open and tongue out," she commanded. "I want it stretched and wide."
I obeyed, letting my tongue loll out like a bitch in heat. The position was humiliating beyond anything before.
"Much better," she whispered, voice warm like silk. "Don't move now."
She then turned to Mike.
"Babe, come here. Stand in front of him. I want your cock resting right on his tongue like a little cock-shelf he is."
I wanted to run from there in shame but I stayed frozen like I was ordered to.
Mike stepped closer half-hard, his cock glistening with arousal. Mistress guided him with a touch, positioning him so the weight of his cock rested squarely on my tongue.
My lips didn’t close. My tongue didn't move. I didn’t flinch. I held it there, still, like the object she wanted me to be. The smell of sex, sweat, latex and the lingering taste of cum all overwhelmed my senses.
Mistress adjusted my head a bit by lifting my chin with the sole of her feet.
"Eyes up," she snapped. "I want them to see the look of devotion. You’re not just holding his cock, you’re honoring it."
I obeyed.
"Oh yes," she whispered, her voice hot with excitement. "That’s perfect."
Mistress crouched low beside me, her voice near my ear.
"Look at you," she whispered, venom wrapped in honey. "Collared, plugged, tongue out like a thirsty little animal. And all you’re good for is this. A living, breathing pedestal for a better man’s cock."
She stood up while grabbing my leash in her hand.
"Hold it steady, my little cock-stand," she purred, pressing a heel gently into my lower back as if adjusting a piece of furniture. "Don’t you dare flinch."
She looked at Mike "Ready?"
He nodded. I couldn’t see the camera, but I could feel the moment build.
"Smile," she cooed to him, then pressed the remote.
The flash lit up the room for a brief second. I stayed frozen, tongue out, tail on display, every nerve humming with shame and a strange, aching pride.
She leaned into Mike, her foot never lifting from my neck and they shared a deep, slow kiss just above my head. The flash fired again.
"You stay frozen, understand? Let the pose sink in." she commanded. "I want to keep looking at you like this."
They both pulled back. She turned to Mike, camera in hand. "Come see. These are beautiful."
They moved to the side scrolling through the photos, the two of them still naked, relaxed, basking in the afterglow of their shared dominance. Her laugh was low and indulgent. "This one," she said, pointing at the screen. "God, look at that tongue. Look at that pose. He looks like he was made for this."