“It’s pup time,” Michael said, and your knees grew weak.
“No, not again,” you whined, sinking to the ground.
“Pup time,” he said, holding a hand out towards you. You could feel your cock stiffening, and you try to push it down as you kneel before him, but it’s no use. Your hands are curling, fingers tightening into fists as you become his slave yet again.
“Just don’t take pictures this –woof!” your voice is disappearing, along with your mind. What were you about to ask? Something about… being a good boy?
Michael took out his phone. “What was that, boy?” he asked.
You remembered: “no pictures,” you begged. “Please – ruff! Woof! Woof woof! Please no pictures.”
“Pup time,” Michael said, pointing the phone’s camera at you and tapping the screen. That’s the last thing you remembered, until the next day when you opened up Twitter and saw that he’d changed your profile photo. There you were – down on all fours, your dick hard, your tongue hanging out of your mouth in a stupid panting grin.
“Oh no,” you gasped, trying to log in – but he’d changed your password. And he’d pinned a tweet at the very top: “I want to be your dog slave! Just call me and say pup time,” it said.
Your phone rang. Without thinking, you picked up. A strange man’s voice was on the other end. “Pup time,” he said, and you felt yourself sinking once more to your knees.
Read more tales of sexy gay transformation by Douglas Benjamin: https://amzn.to/2Y6GZ5h
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