Beauty and the beasts

ON YOUR FEET!

Be my bug! - Doggy style

Totor. That's what my dogs are called, all my dogs,

my good dogs, my little dogs,
my puppies-to-be, my apartment dogs and my show dogs,
my faithful bastards in search of a Mistress,
my mutts who wag their tails as soon as they see their collars,
my mutts who wriggle to be walked on a leash,
my wet-nosed bloodhounds, sniffing my shoes (or worse),
my pathetic peeled bichons on ladies' calves,
my shepherds eager for a bowl to suck,
I send them to the Oubliettes kennel,
my roaches who confuse "sit-stand-down" with "down" and deserve to be swatted,
my bent-over molosses that absolutely must be re-dressed...
And you, dog leader (of the pack).

Isn't love infinity for poodles?

Good to know

  • My pet play accessories: dog mask, collar, leash, toy, bowl.
  • My bestiary also includes horses. In another life, I was an excellent horsewoman.

Now bitten

Animalization and pet play are games I've long excluded from my practices. But now I enjoy them. The proof? My transformation into a dog inspired me to write the short story Anima canina published in the collection Immoral.

An extract:
"Hush," I decree, staring at him with a terrible expression. Then, without transition, I say in a quiet, almost tender voice, "Naked, on your knees, down, bark!
He obeys without question. Fabulous. I, Justine, have the power to give absurd orders to a stranger, to bend him to my whim, to bully him on a whim.
Mistress? Yes, or rather tyrant, as my superpower takes on the taste of the chocolates in my XXL ballottin, I gobble one, two, ten before spitting a long stream of ganache in her face.