My line of sight turned from seeing the time slowly reaching 6 p.m., to a view of the bar with people noticing his actions, turning me into his dog.
“Hello, doggie, follow me”
This is an escort named Timothy Don, a motorcycle stunt actor that graced the charm with the people for his thrill skills and dominant style,but retired after he injured his left leg.
Everything fall apart after that, with a bankruptcy and currently filing for a divorce, he now performs here as a master known for his thrills, for the sake of a chance to raise his children.
Driving him to my house, I felt an awkward stress and conflict from him, muttering about god and his children, Sally & Sarah. So conversation with him becomes limited and forced, couldn’t be in his dog trainer character all the time.
I guess, if he didn’t have an escorting offer for 2,000 dollars, he would rather be taking care of his children.
With that, I feel horrible for him.
I first encountered him in the bar, where he just finished his last escorting job with a pup from his dungeon and immediately left at 9.Approaching the now human, we talked about Timothy’s performance, pay and what I might expect from him. Feeling confident, I talked to him the next day while he’s having his lunch, and the deal is done, 2,000 dollars, from 6 to 9.
Seeing his outside as a master, he seems a little flustered and quiet, especially when looking at his phone messages. While paying for his lunch and said our goodbyes, I feel horrible for him being drained all of his vigour from his stunt actor days.
We are now at my house, and after a hydration period (with me drinking from my bowl). We start our session.
The first half an hour starts off tame, him reading a book while petting every section of my body, especially my hair and my lower back according to my moans, occasionally with a spank. Sometimes I feel like he put himself in a day dream while reading the book, stopping at inconsistent times.
When 1 spank ended up too hard to my testicles, I yelp out in pain and feel down from the sofa. His reaction is delayed.
Feeling better with ice, I immediately spoke the safe word,putting my safety as priority over pleasure
“Mr Don, I think that I can’t go through this longer.”
“…Wh-Look please don’t get mad, I-I-I…”
“You are not in focus, and I’m afraid that you might actually harm me.”
“Pl-Please...(cough)…doggie…who gives you the permission to stand up.”
“…I don’t believe you.”
There is a visible rage building, and tears starting to hold back after I let him hear my words.
“I will be at my bedroom, it’s upstairs with a star door. If you are ready…and talk to me.”
I slowly go upstairs, and looking at his dejected face. I feel horrible for him for forcing him to my own pleasures.
“Bark, 2, 3, 4….Sit down. Shake 2, 3, 4…arch back and bark.”
When he arrived to my sight again, composed again. He ordered me a barrage of tasks, sitting, barking and shaking, making me sweat.
“Now doggie, arch your back and show your master the meat you are packing.”
I complied, and along came a barrage of spanks to my butt.
It is fast, but it is inconsistent, a painful spank is followed by a sequence of weaker spanks. Gradually, the spanks became weaker and slower,until he stopped and cried.
“It’s okay, I’m your pup, treat me as your companion and cry your heart out.”
He stared at me, tears uncontrollably flow through his eyes.
“…I’m scared of losing my child to that bitch.”
In my bed, he hugs me like a bolster, hoping that his real-life nightmares somehow fade away when the sunlight rises again.
“It’s just… (sob)…I’m so useless except for my dick & my motorcycling gift, and…I’m scared, without them I will be next to nothing...”
Most of the time, I remain silent by him, letting him caressing my entire body, hoping that I can make him feel a little better.
“Thanks to my fucking leg, if I just be more careful. None of it…(sob)”
He lie down, breathing as much as he can, too tired to think about anything bad in his life.
I decided to bring water to him, listening him repeating the words doing so, making me more and more dejected hearing him say:
“Sarah….Sally…Daddy is so sorry…”
I feel so bad for him….
I slapped myself in my face, reminding that I have a task to be done.
Composing myself again, I approached him with a glass of water.
“Here, drink this. Calm down Mr Don, it is just a phase.After a sleep I promise, you will be good again.”
…And he go on to sleep.
I feel so bad for him…
2 weeks later.
“So how are Sarah & Sally doing?”
“…Positive, they are now well taken care of, but they still misses their father.”
“I see…but does she really need to do this?”
“Agent 25, please don’t think like that. It is for your own good.”
“Yeah, but the law is going to be in favour into giving her custody, does she need to risk herself to be an accomplice of a crime?”
“…I think she wants her children to be well-off than happy….And aren’t you the same?”
I gone silent looking at my handler, drinking his coffee while awaiting my next sentence that I am going to blurt out.
“So what about Timothy Don?”
His eyes flared up, but years of experience makes him handle his emotions better than a Navy Seal.
“The agency liked his dog training and motorcycle knowledge,if he keeps it up he can work there as a trainer in the next 2 years.”
He might have noticed my smile after his answer.
“Do you think that you have just saved his life? I felt that you actions came across more as a slaver than a saviour. Sure, you technically saved his life, but you also ruined his life. His memories is forcefully deleted, his face permanently sewed into a latex mask and his purpose of existence was forcefully altered. Do you really save his life? Or are you just a coward about killing people that didn’t come across as assholes?”
It might seem a rant to you, but all the things he rant about me has all the points to make me unable to defend myself.
“Please, if you have an assassination mission, please just kill them.”
He gone silent, and leave to wash the dishes for both of us.Leaving me silent and ponder quietly.
I sigh, am I that horrible?