Chapter 9: Dog Walk in the Park
Kim fell into a thick, black sleep still clutching the silicone, the residual tremors of her orgasm softening into the deep ache of her new modifications. The throbbing in her nipple and the burn of her bicep were the last conscious sensations before the dreamscape swallowed her whole.
She awoke within the dream—or rather, became aware—in Shego’s penthouse. The space was all cold chrome and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a city drenched in eternal twilight. Shego stood before her, already dressed in tight black shorts and a tank top, her arms crossed. Her green eyes raked over Kim’s naked form, lingering.
“Well, well. The subconscious is getting creative,” Shego purred, her gaze fixing on the dark lines on Kim’s right arm and the green jewels on her chest. “A tattoo? Piercings? Your mind is decorating the fantasy. That’s… promising.”
Kim said nothing. She let Shego believe they were phantoms, dream-echoes. The real, painful truth was her secret.
“We’re going out, princess. But you’re not going as you.” Shego snapped her fingers, and a wardrobe hissed open. She pulled out a bundle of black latex. “Arms up.”
Kim obeyed. The catsuit was cool and unforgiving as Shego worked it up her legs, over her hips, sealing her in a second skin. It was full-body, constricting every muscle, but the chest was a wide, open window that left her breasts completely bare. The latex gripped the undersides of them, framing and presenting her nipples, the fresh piercings glittering obscenely in the penthouse light.
“Now, the position,” Shego said, her tone all business. She produced thin, strong cords. She knelt, taking Kim’s right forearm and pulling it tight against her bicep, binding them together at the elbow and wrist. She did the same with the left arm, then moved to her legs, securing Kim’s calves tightly to her thighs. The effect was instant and crippling. Kim could only bend at the hips and shoulders. She was forced onto her knees and elbows, her backside high in the air, her exposed breasts swinging perilously close to the polished concrete floor.
“Good,” Shego murmured, a clinical approval in her voice. She produced the final touches. The butt plug was silicone, with a flared base shaped into a perky, furry dog tail. She coated it with lube, her fingers cold as they brushed Kim’s asshole. “Relax.”
Kim did more than relax; she pushed back against Shego’s fingers, a silent plea. Shego chuckled darkly and pressed the plug’s tip against her. The stretch was sudden, intense, the knotted bulb popping past her rim with a soft, shameful sound. It seated deep, the tail resting against the back of her thighs. A flush of pure heat spread through Kim’s groin.
Next came the mask. Latex, molded into the semblance of a canine’s muzzle and face, with floppy ears. It obscured everything but her mouth and nostrils. The world became a dark, hot tunnel. A collar followed, thick black leather, cold before it warmed to her skin. The buckle snapped with a finality that echoed in Kim’s bones.
Shego clipped a leash to the O-ring. She gave a gentle tug. “Heel.”
And Kim moved. It was an awkward, hobbling crawl on her knees and elbows, her back arched, the tail twitching with each movement. The latex squeaked against the floor. She followed the pressure of the leash, out of the penthouse, into the private elevator. Shego stood casually, one hand holding the leash, the other checking her phone as they descended.
The doors opened into a lobby. A doorman nodded. “Afternoon, Ms. Shego. Walking your… pet?”
“Getting her some air,” Shego replied, her voice smooth as oil.
And then they were outside. Blazing midday sun hammered down on the black latex, cooking Kim inside it instantly. The heat was immense, suffocating. The sidewalk was rough against her knees and forearms, a grating pain that felt vital, grounding. People were everywhere—businessmen on calls, couples strolling, children pointing.
“Look, Mommy, a doggie!”
“What the hell is that?”
“Some kind of art thing, just ignore it.”
Kim’s heart hammered, not with fear, but with a ferocious, primal excitement. She was completely seen, completely exposed, and yet hidden behind the mask. She was an object. A pet. The humiliation was theoretical, a concept that bounced off the deep, wet thrill pooling in her cunt. She crawled across the hot grass of the park, her nipples, her pierced nipples, dragging through the blades, each tiny tug sending jolts straight to her core. She was soaking the crotch of the latex suit, a sticky mess trapped against her skin.
Shego led her to a large oak tree. She stopped, her shadow falling over Kim. “Alright, puppy. Time to mark your territory. Lift your leg.”
Kim, on her knees and elbows, maneuvered awkwardly, managing to hike her right leg up in a canine pantomime. The position pulled at the plug inside her. She let go. A hot stream of piss arched out, splashing noisily against the bark, dripping down onto the grass. The relief was immense, the act profoundly degrading, and it made her clit throb desperately. Shego watched, a small, tight smile on her lips.
“Good girl.”
They moved on, deeper into the park, away from the main paths. The crowd thinned, the sounds of the city fading into birdsong. Shego guided her into a secluded thicket, shielded by weeping willows. The grass here was cooler, shaded.
Shego dropped the leash. Kim stayed in position, her body trembling with anticipation. She heard the rustle of clothing, a zipper. When Shego stepped in front of her again, she was naked from the waist down, a harness securing a thick, veined strapon. It was the same virulent green as her plasma, menacing and real.
“Stay,” Shego commanded, moving behind her.
Kim felt the blunt, silicone head nudge against her dripping slit. Shego didn’t tease. She took the hips of the catsuit in a firm grip and slammed forward, burying the entire length in one brutal stroke.
Kim’s scream was swallowed by the mask. The stretch was unbelievable, the fake cock wider than the dildo she’d used in her dorm. It filled her with a ruthless, perfect pressure, the veins grinding spots inside her she didn’t know she had. Shego set a relentless pace from the start, fucking into her with hard, deep pistons of her hips, each impact driving Kim’s masked face into the dirt and grass.
“You love this, don’t you?” Shego grunted, her own breath becoming ragged. “You love being my public fucktoy. Bark for me, bitch. Let me hear you.”
Kim didn’t hesitate. She sucked in a ragged breath through the mask and let out a sharp, loud, “Woof! Woof!” The sound was absurd, pathetic, incredibly hot.
“Louder!”
“ARF! ARF! ARF!” Kim barked, her voice raw, each bark punctuated by a deep, penetrating thrust. She was a bitch in heat, being taken in the dirt. The possibility of someone stumbling upon them—a jogger, a family—lit her up from inside. She hoped they would. She wanted an audience for her ruin.
Shego fucked her harder, faster, the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies meeting filling the thicket. One of Shego’s hands tangled in the hair at the base of the mask, holding her head down. The other snaked around her hip, fingers finding her swollen clit through the latex.
“You’re gonna cum like the animal you are,” Shego hissed in her ear. “Cum all over my cock.”
The command was all it took. The orgasm ripped through Kim with violent, uncontainable force. Her cunt clamped down viscously on the invading strap-on, milking it in ragged pulses. Her body convulsed in the restrictive bonds, a raw, continuous howl tearing from her throat, muffled and desperate inside the latex muzzle. She squirted, a hot gush that soaked the inside of the suit and dripped down her thighs onto the grass beneath them.
Shego rode her through it, grinding deep, before pulling out with a slick, obscene pop. Kim collapsed onto her side, twitching, the tail plug a forgotten presence. Shego wiped the glistening toy on the grass, detached it, and pulled her shorts back on. She picked up the leash.
“Home.”
The crawl back was a blur of exhausted euphoria. In the penthouse, Shego unclipped the leash. She pushed Kim into a sitting position and peeled the sweat-soaked latex mask from her head. Kim’s real face was revealed, flushed scarlet, her red hair plastered to her scalp, her green eyes glassy and sated.
Shego fetched two metal bowls. She placed one filled with water and the other with dry, generic kibble on the floor before Kim.
“Eat. Drink.”
Kim looked from the bowls to Shego’s smug face. Inside, a spark of her old self flared. Really, Shego? This is the bit you think breaks me? She let her eyes roll, just for a second, a silent commentary Shego completely missed. Then she lowered her head. She lapped at the water, the cool liquid a blessing on her parched throat. She ate the kibble from the bowl, crunching the bland pellets, her body still throbbing from the public fucking. In the dream logic, it tasted like victory.
Shego watched, the smirk etched on her face. She saw the compliant pet, the tattoo, the piercings. She saw the fantasy deepening, the corruption taking root. She saw everything except the secret fire in Kim’s downcast eyes.
Kim woke in her dorm bed, dawn light bleeding through the blinds. She was sore in a dozen wonderful ways. The sheets were still tangled from her pre-sleep exertion. The black dildo lay beside her pillow.
Her phone, on the nightstand, buzzed.
She reached for it. A single message lit up the screen, from an unknown but familiar number.
The fantasy was fun. Let’s see the real thing. Saturday night. My penthouse. 8 PM. - S
Kim stared at the words. A slow, wide smile spread across her face. She touched her pierced nipple through her shirt, a sharp, sweet pain. She traced the lines of her tattoo, the heart, the barbed wire, the flames.
The invitation wasn’t a ending. It was a starting pistol.
She typed a single character in reply.