This is a story of self discovery, freedom of expression, passion and responsibility. Based on real events and characters, it takes shape of an irregular diary, a collection of small independent stories. Featuring BDSM lifestyle, some may consider it to be NSFW, however it is but a day in my life. Certainly 18+ though! So do not proceed if you’re not of age or maturity.
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List of stories in this series.
Walkies
Today she came and plopped next to my chair while I was still working on some code, quite late. She did the typical dog thing, you know, where the doggo comes to you while you’re really busy on your PC or laptop and pushes their head down at your arm. Expecting headpats. She does that all the time. If I don’t headpat her in time she starts to chase my hand with her snoot, nudging my mouse in my hand. Anyway so she was doing that for a while until I asked if she wanted to go out. “Wanna go out for walkies? Yes?” She just nods. More excitedly as I repeat the question. “Walkies on a leash? Yes?! We go?!” Excitedly bouncing in place and nodding, still snuggled up at my arm. “Let’s go then, come on!” She jumps up and brings my high leather boots. While I put them on and zip them up she gets ready really quickly herself and brings my leather jacket. After I put it on I grab her other collar off of my shelf. She wears her day collar 24/7, it’s a nice persian chainmaille with a pet symbol pendant hanging off of it. It isn’t really suitable for a leash though, the rings could part. So I put her leather pet collar on her neck, she is both excited and anxious about my hands nearing her throat. I do gently stroke her neck as I swap the collars, licking my lips with a grin on my face.
And so I grab the leash, she opens the door for me and we go out for walkies at night. It’s slightly cold, she clings to my arm as we cross the road. We get into a park and see something in the distance, it could be a fox, or just a cat. Little pet is getting excited about foxes, she likes them very much. She strays a little from me a little too far. I hold my leather leash firmly in my hand, gently tugging on it to keep her tame while we cross the street. She clings to my arm again.
It wasn’t a fox, just a cat. We talked about wildlife, foxes and squirrels. When we got home she opened the door for me as is only proper, plopped her bum on the stair and unzipped my boots to take them off. It was late enough to go straight to bed. I could hear the pet bells on her collar ringing as she was brushing her teeth. The sound of a bell on your pets collar rings from within your heart. A symbol of ownership. True ownership of another person. She is mine, all mine to play with, all mine to serve me. Melts the heart of the toughest of dommes.
Rhea's pet on a leash, out for walkies.