My Master's Pet: First Bite

The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the kennel, a relentless, insistent rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my heart. It wasn't a natural rhythm, this one, not like the steady thrum of a healthy animal. It was a desperate, pleading pulse, fueled by a primal longing I couldn't quite comprehend, yet felt burning through every nerve ending. I was a dog, or at least, that’s what they called me. A magnificent, muscular German Shepherd, impeccably bred and trained for one purpose: submission. And tonight, my purpose was about to be fulfilled in a way I’d never anticipated.

The scent of leather and pine needles hung heavy in the air as the heavy metal door swung open, revealing the silhouette of my master. He moved with a deliberate grace, a predator sizing up its prey. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and powerfully built, his dark hair slicked back from a face that held a captivating blend of cruelty and amusement. He wore a dark, tailored suit, the fabric clinging to his every curve, highlighting the sharp angles of his physique. As he stepped into the kennel, the rain seemed to lessen, as if acknowledging his presence.

“Good boy,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air, sending shivers down my spine. It wasn’t a command, not exactly. It was more like an observation, a quiet assessment of my worth, my potential. He walked slowly, deliberately, circling the kennel, his eyes never leaving me. I lowered my head, anticipating the inevitable, the subjugation that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

He stopped in front of me, his shadow engulfing my entire body. He knelt down, pulling a small, silver chain from his pocket. It was attached to a heavy, ornate collar, studded with dark, menacing stones. With a practiced hand, he fastened it around my neck. The cold metal pressed against my skin, a sharp, insistent reminder of my place.

“You’re going to be a good boy,” he whispered, his breath warm against my fur. “A very, very good boy.”

The first touch was tentative, a gentle stroke across my chest, sending a delicious shiver through my muscles. It escalated quickly, becoming more insistent, more demanding. His hands moved with a confident speed, exploring every inch of my body, teasing and tantalizing before finally delivering the full force of his desire. He worked his way down my legs, then my belly, his touch rough and demanding, yet undeniably pleasurable.

He began to pace, circling me again, his movements growing more frantic. The rain continued to fall, drumming a frantic rhythm against the roof, mirroring the rising heat in my body. He stopped abruptly, bending down and lifting me into his arms. I struggled briefly, a desperate attempt to regain control, but his grip was firm, unyielding.

He carried me out of the kennel and into the rain, into the vast, dark expanse of the grounds. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and pine, and the rain plastered my fur to my skin. He carried me to the open porch of the main house, where a large, plush armchair awaited.

He gently placed me in the chair, then sat down beside me, his weight pressing down on my body. He leaned close, his breath hot on my ear, whispering, “Now, let’s see what you’re capable of.”

His hands returned to me, this time with a more focused intensity. He began by gently massaging my muscles, working out the knots and tension. The sensation was exquisite, a release of pent-up energy that left me trembling with anticipation. Then, he moved on to more intimate areas, his touch escalating in both speed and force.

He pulled back my fur, exposing my sensitive skin. He licked my neck, my ears, my chest, savoring the taste of my flesh. The pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensation that threatened to consume me entirely. I whimpered softly, unable to resist his advances.

He continued his assault, never letting up, pushing me to the very edge of my endurance. He pulled my legs, twisted my torso, and pressed against my body, demanding my complete submission. The rain continued to fall, washing away any lingering remnants of my resistance.

Finally, he reached the height of his pleasure, delivering a powerful thrust deep into my rectum. The pain was sharp and intense, but it was quickly followed by a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I let out a strangled yelp, unable to control the release that followed.

He remained there for a long time, enjoying my submission, feeding off my pleasure. I lay there, exhausted and spent, my body aching with the memory of his touch. The rain finally subsided, and a sliver of moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the scene.

When he finally rose to leave, he paused for a moment, looking down at me with a satisfied smirk. “You’re a good boy,” he said again, his voice dripping with affection. Then, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the house, leaving me alone in the rain-soaked kennel, my body tingling with the memory of his dominance.

As I lay there, shivering in the cold rain, I realized that this wasn't just submission. It was something far more profound. It was a release, a surrender, a complete and utter loss of control. And in that moment, I understood what he truly desired: not just my obedience, but my complete and utter devotion. My purpose wasn’t just to be a dog; it was to be his, to fulfill his every whim, to exist solely for his pleasure. The rain continued to fall, washing away any trace of my former self, leaving behind only the knowledge that I was, and always would be, his pet, his plaything, his perfect, submissive companion. The thought, once terrifying, now felt strangely comforting, a promise of endless pleasure and unwavering loyalty. And as I closed my eyes, anticipating the next command, the desperate, pleading rhythm of my heart beat in time with the relentless drumming of the rain.

Did you like this story? My Master's Pet: First Bite look, but like these, here First time sex stories.