Violation

oh the dark and dirty things I think of while walking my pooch… ~nilla~

(maybe dragon-y for some--but then again? maybe not!)

violation

noun vi·o·la·tion \ˌvī-ə-ˈlā-shən\

: the act of doing something that is not allowed by a law or rule

: the act of ignoring or interfering with a person’s rights

 “C’mon baby, let’s walk. No, no sniffing now, momma’s gotta make it up this hill…”

She jiggled the dogs chain, and puffing a little, got her moving forward up the long hill. It bordered a church, the long expanse of green lawn a major attractant for the area’s dogs. Molly always had to tug Fluff past the garden rocks to get her ’round the corner. Once they started up the hill, the small dog would prance along merrily.

She enjoyed walking in the early  morning, even before the sun rose. At five a.m. not many others were out and about; by five thirty the joggers would come running, and by six, other doggie parents would be out on their first jaunt of the day.  The robins were sending up a chorus of music, the song sparrows sang a descant. The air was warm enough that she didn’t even require a jacket today.

As she crested the long low hill and drew even with the back of the church, she paused and took a breath while Fluff squatted. Directly behind the church was a big parking area, and behind that, a big open field, bordered on the back side by a cross street. Stepping into the parking lot, she unclipped the dog, and reaching into her pocket, withdrew a tennis ball. She threw a long lowball for Fluff, who gave a happy yip and raced off. She walked towards the edge of the pavement, smiling as her dog scooped up the ball, and running in a wide arc, came back for her treat. Dropping the ball at her feet, she snarfed down the kibble, then took off after the ball again. They played this way for some minutes, until a cruiser pulled into the lot. Though it looked like he was going to park and drink coffee, he slow-rolled over to where she stood. Slipping the leash back onto Fluff, she turned at his low tone.

“You had your dog off leash. We have a law about that here.”

“I’m sorry–she comes right back to me, as you saw.”

“Nonetheless she isn’t to be off-leash. Stay there.”

He puts the cruiser in park, and exits the vehicle. Round the front bumper, she notes how tall he is. Cops always make her nervous. And somewhat excited, thanks to that whole men in power and uniform thing. He squats down to look at her pooch. She expects him to pet the dog, comment on her manners. He looks at her, then stands.

“There’s no tag on her collar.”

“It’s on her other collar back at the house…”

“City ordinance 57.3 Section B, Subsection 3 clearly states that dogs in our city must wear their tags when off the owner’s property. You’re in violation of two counts. I could seize and impound your dog, fine or arrest you. At my discretion.”

He stares at her hard, and her heart is racing. Arrested? Over an unleashed dog that weighed under 20 pounds soaking wet? Over her lack of tag…? This was outrageous. Her mouth opened to protest, but he held his hand up.

“I’m not in the mood for any shit. I’ve got…”

He pauses and glances at his watch.

“…20 minutes left on shift. I don’t want to have to work an hour of OT to write this all up. Nonetheless, you’ve broken the law, miss, and you must pay the price.”

“She’s hardly lawless, you know…nor I…”

“Don’t get smart-mouthed with me. I can see a road to compromise here. Come sit in the cruiser.”

She was afraid if she went into the back that he’d just haul her in, regardless of him wanting to get off duty.

“Front seat. Put the dog in the back.”

“You’re going to arrest my dog?”

“Just get in the fucking car, dog- lady.”

Her hand shook as she opened the door. He took the dog from her and put her on the backseat. Sliding in, it seemed he took up most of the space in the front. He turned the car around and faced the meadow.

“I think you know what you can do for me to…relieve my mind that you’re going to be a good and responsible dog owner in the future.”

“Your mind?”

She had a pretty good idea what he really wanted “relieved” and doubted sincerely it was his “mind”. The telltale bulge at the apex of his thighs answered that question. She glanced from that, to his face. One eyebrow raised.

“Well?”

“I…are you going to…you know…”

“going to…what?”

“going to take it out.”

“IT?”

She huffed out a frustrated breath. Seems he was determined to humiliate her.

“Are you going to take your dick out of your pants?”

“I’ve never cared for that word. That old joke, you know…Tom’s Dick is Harry…”

“That’s a stupid joke…”

“What were you asking me?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Are you going to take your…penis…out of your pants.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Are you a nurse? Or…pardon the sexist assumption…a doctor? Because they’re the only people I know who say “penis” quite that way. Uptight. Naming body parts in that …doctorly way.”

“Cock. Fine. You want me to be crude. I ‘ll be crude. Are you going to…oh never the fucking mind…”

She scoots over a bit and reaches for his fly. His hands lay on his lap. He is not going to help her at all, she understands. He’s hard enough that getting his shaft out of his pants could get his dick scratched and she was wary of that potential hazard. She unbuckled his belt, opens his pants and reaches into the opening of his underpants. His cock is warm, stiff, soft as silk and hard as a steel bar. The flared head is ruddy, and the scent of him makes her mouth water.

“If you’re sure…”

“Put my fucking cock in your mouth.”

Rather than argue, she opens and presses her mouth around him. Her tongue curls to accept him, while her head lowers, then raises. Her hand fists around the base of his shaft, feeling the roughness of the crinkled hairs there. Sliding her hand up, her mouth up, she begins to spread the saliva along the length of him, stroking firmly. She alternates between sucking at the crown, and taking him deeper each time.

He moans a bit as her hand warms, and her mouth creates suction. The salty tang of his essence leaking from the tip hits her tongue, and she is moved to take more of him. Rising up, she strokes again from base to tip, as her sucking lips slip up over the head of his cock, sucking at the tiny tender hole at the tip. She feels the quiver of response in the hard flesh in her hand.

Her lips encircle him again, and she moves to take him deeper. His hand lifts from his thigh and presses her head down, hard, and she gags as he is suddenly fully within her mouth and throat.

“Suck that cock, you fucking cocksucking slut…”

He speaks dirty words, his tone guttural. His fingers tangle in her hair, holding her down until she thinks she will die from cock-choking, but he releases the pressure, allowing her to rise and gasp for air.

“Again,” He orders, and shoves her mouth down. Once more she gags, the angle all wrong for her pleasure in the task. He is so hard now, the head so big that he truly cuts off her breath when his cock lodges within her throat.

He lifts her head, fingers not gentle as he tugs her up, slaps her cheek hard enough to make her eyes water. Her head is spinning….and yet there is a sudden deep jolt of longing deep in her belly.

“Hurry up. I’ve only got 10 minutes before I need to be back at the station.”

He shoved her head back down. The head of his cock glistens from her spit and the drop of fluid that lay like a clear pearl, balanced on the tip. She sees it all for one flashing moment before that weeping head is pressed against her lips, before they part and the salty essence glides over her tongue.

“Just suck.”

His hands grip her head and begin pushing her down, pulling her up. He used her mouth like it was a tool, not part of her, a human being. She was, she realized, a sex object to him. The thought brought humiliation and the unmistakable rising of lust. She choked as he pushed her head down, his cock gagging down her throat at the awkward angle, her nose buried in his pubic hair. He made a sound, something deep and filled with dark pleasure as her throat hiccupped around his cock. He held her there for what felt like hours, before dragging her head up, allowing her a breath. Tears stung her eyes, she swallowed bitter bile, fought the urge to claw at him. In the backseat, the dog whimpered in shared distress.

“Fucking cocksucker, finish me!”

Slamming her head down on his engorged shaft, thick and hot in her mouth, she felt the quiver of his belly against her cheek. He stiffened, his fingers curled into claws against her skull, as he ground her head down, lifting his ass from the seat to drive himself as deep as possible into her face. She heard his groan of release, the relaxing of muscles as he pulled back a bit.

“Swallow it all, not a drop on my uniform or you’ll regret it.”

Sucking hard, she drew semen into her throat, swallowing quickly. Finally he was done, slumped in the seat, his cock slipping free of her lips as he began to soften.

“Put your toys away. Gently.”

Her hands shook a little as she gingerly tucked him away, then zipped up his uniform pants, and fastened his belt. He watched her, his eyes boring into her face. She didn’t make eye contact after the first moment.

“Let me see your tits.”

She bit her lip, immediately regretted doing it. She wasn’t some skanky novel heroine, but the nervous habit had been lifelong. She held the hem of her shirt a moment too long. His hand raised and slapped her cheek again, firmly.

“Now.”

Her shirt rose, baring her breasts to him.

“Take them out of the bra.”

She didn’t want to do that. Yet her fingers slid up, tugging down one cup, then the other, before raising the hem of her shirt again.

She expected him to grab. She expected him to fondle. She expected pinching. Yet he just sat and stared at them.

“Get out of the car and take your mutt home. Keep your tits like that. I’ll enjoy watching you round the corner and seeing your titties bouncing as you walk. Go.”

Dropping the tee-shirt, she slid out of the cruiser, opened the backdoor and took out the dog. Her knees were trembling, her pussy hot and bothered. Her nipples rubbed against the cotton of her shirt, aggravating them to hardness. In her mouth, the taste of his semen made her lick her lips. Turning, she quickly walked out of the parking lot, knowing that he was watching her. She rounded the corner, blushing as her tits bobbled freely under her tee-shirt. She swore she could feel his eyes on her. The thought brought a fresh rush of wetness between her thighs. Finally she moved past the field and into the more residential neighborhood beyond. She urged the dog down the next street, hoping Fluff would poop quickly so she could get home.

*****************************************

“That was a fast walk.”

She unleashed the dog, hung the collar and leash by the door where she’d have it handy for later. Barely glancing at him, she merely nodded at her husband and remained silent as she busied herself feeding Fluff. She felt his eyes on her as she moved around the kitchen.

“Look at me.”

She noted the half-smile that revealed that charming dimple that always got her stirred up. Her clit pulsed, a reminder of her intense need. She met his eyes at last, found him looking intently at her over the rim of his coffee mug. Blushing, horny, she knew she was beyond caring what he thought of her. His eyes smiled, one brow rising as he looked at his wife.

“Let me see your tits, doglady.”

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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2 Responses to Violation

  1. Kayla Lords says:

    LOVED this. And holy hell, I’m hot and bothered. I really need to remind SSir of all the reasons we need a dog. 😀

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