KC Chapter 1: Ain't Life a Bitch?
#1 of Kennel Club
_Adult situations. Hardcore sex and stuff. Dirty words too. Mind control, chemicals, bondage, forced sex and stuff, enema scene early on.. Don't worry, there's no big scat play if that squicks you. Don't read if you're not of the legal age to see adult material and all that jazz. Basically, if you shouldn't be here you fucking know better.
Author's note: Sorry it's been so long since my last post. Double apologies for this not being part of the Kitten storyline. That's still sitting at Chapter 2, some writer's block on that. This story set is much less serious, however, and easy to just mess around with. And hopefully fappable. Dry, dark humor abounds within. It's a fap story, I know this, and I enjoy pointing it out._
"Ooh yeah, f-fuck that's it. Who's a good bitch, hmm? Who's a good lil bitch in heat?" A huffed, gritty, obviously male voice growled in the dimly lit room, echoing off concrete walls.
"Yip! Yip yip!" an eager, joyful female called back. Her tongue hanging out of the side of the Golden Shepard's mouth, her blue eyes closed as she answered in feral language.
The male over her, a large Doberman with one ear notched and tattoos permanently dyed through his fur and flesh, just pounded forward in reply, stretching her around him as she gave only yips of pleasure. A somewhat tall fellow, but mostly broad and muscled, his height made all the more commanding by the submissive bitch gripping her cage's bars before him. His tattoos ran down his arms, one over the brown fur above his heart, and the rest marked with white down his black back to just above his docked tail. Tattoos obviously given in prison, judging by their gang symbols. And not some little street gang either. The sort that was only forged in the dog eat dog, sometimes literally, world of the prison system. A furnace that tempered its members into the sort of brutal machines this male had become. And every ounce of his brutality was being forced into the seemingly eager bitch before him, a sneer of a grin plastered on his face.
"Mmm, gonna knot if you keep this up, you good bitch. And I haven't even tried all your holes yet! How's about we move on to your ass, huh? Bet we need to clean that up first... filthy bitch. Don't we? Speak!"
"Y-yes sir! Filthy bitch, need to be cleaned. Sorry sir!" The golden tanned female answered back, not daring to look at her master unless commanded. Her hair, a golden brown just barely darker than her fur, was mussed up from being pulled and jerked around, but still retained some of it's normally short-styled look. Cut up to be kept neat, but still attractive, it dangled in the front over her sky blue eyes. The lighter fur of her belly flowed down over a B cup chest, dotted with two pink nipples, before following the slight swell of her belly down to the pink lips of her sex. Curling up under her tail, which she kept raised for her master, the dark pucker of her tailstar winked at the male, fully exposing herself to him.
"Atta girl. Down to your face, ass in the air. Hey Ron! Yeah, hand me that enema shit I got by the sink over there. What? No I don't fucking care if it's still warm or not! This bitch'll take it if it's fucking ice water. Won't you, whore?" The Doberman growled above his conquest, slipping his thickness, a rather large piece that had surely been bottoming out in the girl, from the bitch's sloppy sex. He reached through the bars to grab the enema bag, hose and nozzle a chuckling panther was handing him.
The feline was equally decorated in matching tattoos and just as nude. A black, barbed feline tip protruded from his sheath, and after handing the bag off, he looked to their captive. "Hey bitch, just think... after Dante here's done breaking you in, these barbs are going to be in there, and I'm gonna make you yelp and whine for fucking hours. But you like the sound of that, don't you?"
"Yip yip yip yip!!" The girl called back, looking up, eyes sparkling, all smiles at the seemingly brutal offer from the panther. Not even noticing as the Doberman prepared the nozzle, lubricating it well. Then suddenly slipped it under her tail. She felt it, twitching one side of her mouth just a tad, but making no sound, no other movement so as not to displease her generous masters. Then the flow began. A little cool, having rested by the sink for some time, but the bitch gave no protest, staying with her head down and hips up, letting the water flood her bowels.
"Man, that shit worked great! I thought that skunk was fucking with us for sure, that we'd just have to tie her up and figure it out from there...but fuck! Look at her, man! She wants me to hurt her, she's fucking loving that enema!" The panther exclaimed, hands splayed, out in a disbelieving gesture as he spoke of the German Sheppard below.
Meanwhile her face was serene, smiling now as two quarts of liquid flushed her insides. The bitch groaned lightly, pleasantly, drawing smirks from both the men as the bag downed its first quart into her. Her belly started to swell a bit, the pressure working up in her as the cleansing continued, tail lightly wagging at the sensation.
"Heh, I know, right? She's perfect... no need to restrain her, though I'm not taking any chances. If she came off of it, I mean.."
"Yeah, hence the cage. But these kennels were a perfect investment, bro. ...Holy shit, I just had a brilliant idea!"
"Shit Ron.. I know you and your brilliant fucking ideas. Whatever it is, I don't wa-"
"A bitch kennel! Hear me out, Dante!"
"Bitch. Kennel. Did I hear you right? What kind of crazy shit did you cook up this time?"
At "bitch" their captive gave a little happy yip, closing her eyes and groaning a bit louder as more fluid slipped in her. The Doberman grinned, reaching up and giving the bag a squeeze, making his prize whimper as he forced more water down the tube. The bag finally starting to empty, and her belly now looking a good deal more distended from all the water flooding her.
"Okay, so y'know how they've got brothels and all that shit around town? Well I was thinkin', what we got here with this bitch is even better than those snooty brothel girls! They're all uppity and shit, and complain if you fuck too hard. A whore talking shit if you fuck 'er too hard, can you imagine? So I'm lookin' at our bitch right now, and think "Hey! What if we stock this whole kennel full of girls? We could charge out the ass by the hour, and folks would love it! Whole kennel full of willing girls like this, who'll do whatever you tell them to, love it no matter how much it should hurt, and do everything perfectly!"... Good idea, huh?"
"Well I'll be damned... Ron, you just had your first good idea in the last 10 years. Oh, oh... bitch getting full?" The black and brown canine looked down, asking with a dark grin and giving the bag one more squeeze. Pulling on the tube, the nozzle popped from the female's ass with a wet "Schl-pop!", a few droplets of water following it out. "Hold it in, bitch. Spill a drop and I'll give you a punishment you won't fucking forget."
Whimper, whine. The bitch nodded and held her posture, holding in both quarts and letting it slowly cleanse her.
"Hey! D Block Rat Race was money waiting to happen! You just wouldn-"
"Ron, shutup and put this thing away, would ya? And get me that metal pan over there... bitch is gonna have to empty out somewhere before I have that ass." The Doberman laughed, leaning on the bars and letting his still messy cock wobble over the girl's forehead. "The kennel idea is brilliant though, man. Have to talk to the skunk again soon..."
"Heh, yeah. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help in our little endeavor, so long as we supply the cash. And with what we can charge... we'll be able to buy it by the gallon." The panther grinned ferociously down at the bitch, a large, metal pan clanking against the bars as he handed it off to his partner. The German Sheppard simply smiled at her co-owner and kept watching the cock before her, like a pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth, then away as the male pulled back and settled the pan on the floor behind her.
"Squat and empty, bitch."
The command from the Doberman was stern and perfectly clear. Instantly, the girl sat up, taking a squatting position over the pan. Both males grinned and stroked their lengths, the panther's starting to emerge more as she gave him a show that was a big kink of his. Her back arched, tail curled up as she whimpered and pressed down.
Pit. Pat. Pat pat pat slhhhhhsssssshhh spatter spatter! What started as a drip or two from her tailhole quickly became a deluge, the Sheppard groaning as the liquefied contents of her bowels were flushed out and into the pan. She panted, she grunted, and smiled through it all, pressing out all the fluid that had stretched her, belly slowly going down. The length of her tail wagged a bit as she cleansed herself, the foul and humiliating nature of the act not seeming to bother her. After a few moments, everything was quiet. Only the sound of the males stroking themselves resounding off the walls.
"G-good girl.. Now lick it alllll up.." The panther huffed, tugging harder, watching the girl and the pan, completely engrossed. A hand flashed out and smacked over his muzzle.
"No! Stay girl! Goddamnit Ron! Take care of your sick fucking fetish on your own time! I find you've had her eating shit, and I'll skin you and make some fucking violins. Got me?" The Doberman growled, his hand on the bitch's head, making sure she didn't obey too well and lap up the mess she'd made in the pan.
"Agh! Mother fucker! Okay! Okay! Sorry man.. It's just... so dirty. I like watching them get really fucking nasty, y'know?" The panther grumbled, rubbing his nose and looking at his friend.
"I know. Next bitch we catch when we do the kennel thing can be all your's... and you can have her do that all day for all I care. This one's my bitch, and I want her to have a shit-free mouth for sucking me off. Which you love to do, don't ya, girl?" His last words brightened, gleeful as he asked the canine below him.
"Yip!"
"Mmm, goooood girl.. Now, ass up, tail up. Gonna fuck your little asshole." He growled, smiling over her as the bitch got onto all fours and presented her rear entrance as commaned. The Doberman settled his pointed tip at the pucker, guiding it with one hand, firmly gripping her hip with the other.
"Man, so eager... Can't wait to get me one, then fill the kennel." The panther breathed, still stroking himself as he watched his prison buddy take the girl's ass. He inhaled deeply, taking in all of the scents, just leaning back and daydreaming as the two heated things up some more.
"Heh, we'll find you one soon, bro. Right after she's broken in... ahh yeah, feel that stretching your ass, girl? Like it, don't ya?" The Doberman laughed louder as the bitch started to yip, then yelped as his large member pushed her to her limits, but she still managed to smile through it all. "This is the greatest shit ever, man! Wouldn't you agree... Officer McConnelly?"
"Yip! Yip!" Dark laughter echoed in a series of concrete chambers in a slightly run-down building on the not so good, but not so bad side of town. Of course, this kennel wasn't where this tale started. Certainly not. No, it began a few hundred miles off in another, not quite so large city.
About a decade ago, Officer Leslie McConnelly arrested one Dante Clark on charges of extortion and kidnapping. On a warrant for those, actually. Clark had been previously finding his way around, staying under the law's nose for about two years after being charged. Unfortunately for him, Officer McConnelly had a memory like an elephant, eyes like a hawk, and the nose of... well, of a German Sheppard, really. She spotted him in a hardware store, of all places. One of those really big ones, so he didn't notice her in plain clothes, but it afforded McConnelly plenty of time to trail him and make sure he was the same face from the wanted posters in the station. It was him, all right. Dante Clark. And it was on that day that Mr. Clark would find himself tackled, knee to the back of his neck, face down in the exit doors of Lawl's home improvement warehouse. Duct tape was on sale and he just couldn't pass up such savings.
Handcuffs were free, it turned out.
Two weeks previously, McConnelly had rounded up one Ron Bergen. Panther, wanted for theft and for some rather sick acts with livestock and a Ziploc baggy used on a prostitute. You know it's fucked up when a hooker is willing to testify against you.
As it turned out, Mr. Clark and Mr. Bergen would both wind up serving a dime in a prison not too far from their current place of residence. Even more to their good fortune, the two would have the joy of being cell mates, resulting in far less rape to either that way, and even joined the same gang! Like the Odd Couple of the penal system.
Ten years, one cell, same gang, put away by the same woman. It's not hard to imagine who the pair would direct their energies towards when their time was up. Another great asset to the plans they would develop was their meeting with a rather unusual skunk. One who was about a hair's breadth away from being put in the mental ward of the prison. Their associate was in the same joint for producing, amongst other things, meth. His term was a bit shorter than the pair's and had him out again 18 months before they were. However, while the trio was still incarcerated, he did tell them of another drug he'd been working on before getting busted.
A mind control agent. A damn good one too.
At the time the pair just nodded and smiled. The guy was cool, seemed serious, but they still figured he was full of shit. But after he got out, he'd visit from time to time, drop hints that he was getting good with the stuff, and a plan started to grow in their minds. The same cop locked them up and kept them away from women for a decade, so why shouldn't she be the first woman they paid a visit to when they got out? Moreover, this mind control drug sounded awfully nice... and a willing, sexy officer to pleasure them sounded too good to pass up.
Finally, the day came. Ron and Dante were at last on the outside, but with hardly any money and nowhere to stay. It was Ron who found the kennels and talked their owner, who was pretty sure he was going to get busted and deported soon (he was), down to a nice, ex-con friendly price. Weren't too shabby, really. Being in prison so long, privacy wasn't a big deal, so Ron and Dante just put some mats down on the floors and each had their own kennel cell to snooze in. Ron swiped a motorcycle or twenty, Dante lightened the wallets of a few well to do gents who were perusing the local prostitute selection, and they had themselves some spending money.
The pair knew just what present they wanted too. One phone call and cliché meeting in a dark alley later and they had the stuff. Five syringes full of a funky violet liquid that the skunk jokingly called "Purple Haze". Real comedian, that skunk. One to start their victim off, then a refresher shot every couple of days, meaning they'd have to come back if they wanted her for longer, and she'd be their little toy. The pair didn't really think it would work, and would probably just kill her at worse. So they made sure to stock up on trash bags and cinder blocks before they made their move.
McConnelly was a local cop, so since Ron and Dante remembered quite well where they got arrested, it wasn't hard to go right back. A couple hours of driving in a junker they'd bought and the two were there in the delightful, clean, crisp, completely artificial suburbs. Low and behold, not fifteen minutes after reaching McConnelly's district and who should they see? Why it was Leslie McConnelly! Out rounding up street punks, saving kittens, kissing babies, and doing all of that law-abiding bullshit. Their prey located, the duo shacked up for a few days in a local seedy motel. After all, where else do ex-cons go in a story so cliché?
Thus it went, like the strange, criminal couple they were, Dante would go out stalking McConnelly during her rounds, tracking her movements, and Ron would slip into her house to get all the details on her personal life. Being a true cat burglar turned out to be useful as he never left a trace that he was there. Moreover, what he found inside couldn't have been better for their plans.
No husband, no boyfriend, no kids. Hadn't talked to family in a few years. Not really close with anyone. The only "friends" she had were the superficial sort who just waved to her on her rounds and maybe spoke to her an extra thirty seconds as they bagged her groceries. Another boon for Ron was that, being such a dedicated officer (hence the lack of boyfriend), McConnelly always had a little pile of laundry built up. The contents of which provided Ron with several days of delightful, in his mind, sniffing of her used panties. Freak.
They had their target, their tools, and all the information. Nobody would even realize she was gone, save the Force, and the pair had a plan for that. It had been four days and they'd learned all they needed. It was time to strike, time to claim their prize.
Leslie parked her car about a block off, finding no parking available along the street in front of her apartment. It wasn't far and she wasn't really bothered walking down between a couple of the buildings to get over there. She was a cop, after all. She was trained for any situations that might arise. Unfortunately, defense against mind control agents isn't part of the standard police training.
The wind was behind her, blowing away the Doberman's scent. And his mostly black fur, having used soot on the exposed brown, was the perfect cloak in the alleyway. He wanted to smile, wanted to just grin wide because he could smell her. Smell her coming down the alley, smell that cunt, smell vengeance. She passed by the dumpster, looking out of the corner of her eye. A glint of silver! Leslie yelped and started to turn, to strike her assailant, but the sneak attack was too fast. The needle went in at the base of her neck, set to plunge automatically when it made contact. Purple fluid shot down the cylinder as she growled and spun, yanking it out after it had emptied its payload. Dante was used to the dance by now, though, having had plenty of fighting practice in prison. Staying behind her the whole time, Dante pressed forward, knocking her easily down to the ground since her muscles were already starting to relax.
"Hey there McConnelly! Been a long time, hasn't it? Oh oh, those legs giving out already? Yeah, that mind control drug is a doozy, huh? But hey! You're in good hands. You remember these hands, don't ya? You slapped some cuffs on them about a decade ago, got real smug about it... seemed to really fucking enjoy putting me away? Never did anything to you either... what a bitch."
"C-clark?! You mother fu-" Smack! A quick slap to her nose made Leslie balk, shutting her mouth for a second.
"Hey now, won't hear that kinda language out of you. Good bitch shouldn't talk like that. And you're a good bitch, aren't you Leslie?"
"Fuck yo-Yip!" The German Sheppard went wide-eyed at her sudden bark, clamping her hands over her mouth, fighting the sensations building within her. She could feel it. The drug going like molten metal through her veins, heating her up everywhere it went. With every second it was inside her, she felt her senses dull, save those in her sex. There, the heat built, the sensitivity increased, and she could feel herself getting sopping wet. She started to whimper, to push her hips up, entirely beyond her control. Leslie cried out inside, but already that didn't produce any noise, slipping away. Slipping back in her mind, becoming a passenger to all of this. She fought at it, clawing towards consciousness, but could already feel the smile on the lips of the doll she was becoming. Everything fading, she saw the Doberman come smiling into her view, his hardness pressed against her hindquarters.
"Now, what's my name bitch?" He asked, that fat, cocky smile on his lips. Then came the worst part of it. She felt herself get wet, excited, happy that he called her "bitch", and she felt herself beam a smile and answer back.
"Master."
Leslie didn't remember anything after that, never would. Bitch stood up at her new master's command, and yipped her obedience. Then followed along, hand in hand with him to her apartment where a panther waited inside. The men grinned at one another, gave high fives and doted on their new bitch, who yipped happily in response. Then the panther produced a pad of paper and a pen for her.
"Need you to write a note, bitch. About how you're sick and tired of all the fucking people here and want to start things fresh somewhere else. Tell 'em not worry about your paycheck, just give it to charity. You're fine, just needed a change, a big one, and this is it. Best wishes and all of that stuff, sign it Leslie McConnelly. Then put your badge on top of it. You won't be needing that anymore, good little bitch." The Doberman was praising behind her, arousal still pressed against her rump, his hand already feeling around in her pants as she wrote the note. He lapped at her neck, nipped her ear, rumbling with lust as they took their prize away.
They took enough of her things to make it look believable, loading up the Doberman and his bitch in her car, the panther driving their junker back. Ron hadn't really seemed to mind Dante taking first dibs on her. She'd been so smug about his arrest, embarrassed the canine, Ron couldn't really blame him for staking more claim on her. Besides, she didn't have the look Ron liked so much. Maybe she would when he got through with her later, but right now... just not his perfect plaything.
Everything else was a predictable blur after that. The trio coming home to the kennel, stripping their new bitch, and themselves, down. Ron agreed to let Dante break her in and sometime afterwards things came around to...
The bitch whined ever so slightly as the Doberman hilted in her rear, snarling down at her to quiet her protest as he stuffed her full. The sight was almost unbelievable. Her fresh, tight, tailhole stretched a good two inches, maybe more, wide around the thick cock jammed inside her. It hurt, definitely, but the funny thing about the Purple Haze drug was that all those unpleasant sensations felt absolutely euphoric to the victim. Instead, what should have had the bitch screaming and dripping tears down her cheeks had her wagging her tail and yipping for more from her master. The sadistic Doberman was all too eager to give it, considering the ten years his new plaything had previously put him away for. Dante clawed into her hips and slammed forward, making her yelp then yip excitedly as he crammed himself in to the hilt.
If Dante was a sadist then Ron was an absolute madman. Whereas the Doberman's torture was purely out of a lust for revenge, a means to an end, the panther was instead stroking himself quite furiously to the sight of a bitch in pain. Dante always knew Ron was a little sick in the head, but he needed to give his partner something before he started cutting on things. The canine suddenly latched onto the bitch's short hair, pulling it back and making her open her mouth as wide as she could. The yelps she gave only made Ron harder and Dante slam in more forcefully.
"Here bro, fill up that noisy fucking mouth of her's. You'd like that, wouldn't you, bitch?"
The German Sheppard let out a gargled yip in reply, tongue lolling out towards the panther. He was already stepping forward, angling his prick down towards her eager maw.
"You sure, Dante? I mean, we agreed that you could break in all of her holes first..."
"Heh, with her ass now I have." The Doberman said with a wink.
"But I've been here the whole time and you haven't fucked her mo-"
"Car. Ron. In the car. Made the drive back a lot more enjoyable."
"Ohhhh. Heh, I'm proud of you, I gotta say. Well then... Suck my dick, whore!" A long, barbed, ebony length shot into the bitch's muzzle and a black paw quickly pushed it down to suck around him. A brief whimper of protest echoed in her muzzle as the barbs scratched along her tongue and into the back of her throat, the panther making no room for her pleasure. He cracked his paw sharply against her face, reprimanding her and getting obedient yips in return. The Doberman just chuckled and slapped his hips against her rump, gyrating a little to stretch her even more.
Ron licked his lips, starting to purr as the drugged-up bitch took the pain of the barbs to be pleasure and began lavishing her tongue over them. She'd build up a tolerance for them over time, he knew, all females did after awhile. The great thing about their new bitch, though, was that he didn't have to wait. Already she was sucking eagerly, wagging her tail as he fucked into her throat and his accomplice pounded her supple ass.
The feline reached down, pulling at her hair to bring her forward, then back, outright fucking her face and positively beaming all the while. Excited murrs echoed in the kennel as Ron got his first female action in a decade. He'd had plenty with Dante in those years, sure, giving and receiving, but in the end... there was nothing he enjoyed more than humiliating a female. With the new drug from their skunk buddy, all of those twisted fantasies would be coming true. The big cat laid his head back, pumping forward as he daydreamed of what they'd soon have.
A whole kennel full of bitches. Different species, different sizes, and all perfectly suited to satisfy his every whim. Maybe he'd even get one for each fetish! One for hard bondage, another as his personal pet, to be shared with all the friends he knew he'd make with this new business, another for breeding, and, much to his darkest, sickest delight, one to be his little toi-
"Ahhh FUCK!" Ron was snapped out of his daydream by the cry of his friend. Looking back forward, still humping furiously against the bitch, he grinned as Dante started to whine. The panther knew what that meant, he'd had it done to him plenty of times, and looking down... sure enough, Dante's knot was starting to swell.
"F-fuck yeah... Bitch, you don't know what kinda treat you're in for. Think you're stretched now? Well just wait until that knot hits your ass... oh baby, fucking give it to her, Dante."
"Heh, she'd like that, wouldn't she?" The dark canine replied over the yips of his bitch. "Well, if a lady asks that way, I think we just have to treat her right, huh?" He laughed, reaching up a paw to high five his friend through the bars.
Ron whistled at the girl, snapping his fingers, getting their captive to look up. "Hey girl! Heyyy! Up here! Yeah! Who's a good bitch? Hmm? Who's a good bitch getting fucked? You are! Aren't you... Leslie? Yeah, remember? Leslie? C'mon Leslie, wake uuuuupp... Where's Leslie? Is she in there? Huh? Wanna see what we're doing to her slutty little body?" The panther cackled, cock jumping in excitement as her eyes never even changed their eager, happy expression. Leslie was gone, only bitch remained. Bitch gave the main word of her vocabulary, the only one she truly needed. An eager, cheerful...
"Yip!"
"GOOD BITCH!" The pair cried out in unison, each bucking their hips forward. Dante slammed his knot past her outer ring, making the smaller dog yelp for a moment. Ron grabbed her fiercely and slammed forward, locking his cock into her throat as ropes of feline seed shot into her maw. He roared, spattering his cum down her throat, then began pulling back, filling up her mouth with his pent-up lust. Dante howled behind her, going over the edge as their bitch started to yip and buck, begging for their gifts. An explosion of Doberman cum flooded her bowels. The happy little bitch positively on fire as Dante's knot locked in every drop of seed he pumped inside of her. Ron was more focused on filling her mouth, then doing some decorating with the last strings of his climax.
"Yeah, keep that mouth open, look pretty for me, bitch. Mmm, love it when a dirty little whore has a face covered in cum. Gonna get it in your hair, all over your face, later I'll cover your fucking tits... such a good slut." The panther purred, jerking his member at her, spurting globs on her muzzle, above one eye, on her cheeks, and thoroughly into her bangs, rubbing it around in her hair. Like a cake decorator putting on icing, he guided his cock around, spurting out his last drops with great precision before settling the tip on her lips. "Kiss it. Dante, give me a thumbs up. And bitch, eyes up here." He murred, orgasm making his voice sluggish, satisfied as he fumbled for something behind him.
K-shhhheee! A flash of light and the camera's shutter closed, locking in a photo the pair would keep in their office. The first fuck of their first bitch. A feline cocktip resting in the lips of a smiling, bright-eyed bitch, covered in cum, with co-owner Dante still tied in her ass, grinning and giving a big thumbs up. Clients would come into the pair's offices and as they chatted, point up and ask for that bitch. The special one on the wall. "Bitch" herself. If they could pay, each and every one would get their turn in her too.
Kennel number 1, end of the row. A food dish, water dish, plenty of hooks for tying the bitch up, and a grating in the corner for her bathroom. A small doggy bed in the opposite corner. Bitch had everything she'd need and was all too happy to stay.
That's how it all started. The simple roots of the Kennel Club. Dante pulled out of their used bitch and stepped out of her cage, walking back down to the showers with Ron to clean up. Later, the feline would make the call to the skunk. A mutual partnership was struck and Purple Haze was the exclusive stock of the Kennel Club, unbeknownst to its clients. Nobody cared what made the girls so eager, just so long as they kept being eager.
A brochure, looking and seeming to function somewhat like a menu rests with copies of itself on a table in a clean lobby. There are the usual potted plants, plush waiting chairs, televisions tuned to various sports games. The secretary is a smiling young Collie, blouse unbuttoned most of the way and showing off rather ample cleavage. A simple black collar is fastened around her neck, and a short skirt, barely covering her rump is situated about her hips. Men of many different species sit around the lobby and joke with one another, each waiting for a gray lynx girl in white doctor's robes and a matching black collar, to come to the door and call their number. There are no names here, just numbers. Doesn't matter who you are, the Kennel Club only listens to cash and won't remember you were here.
You pick up the brochure and a pen, filling out any desired fields. There is a long check-list of "standard" fetishes, then beyond that, a write-in section which reads:
"In our years of experience, the Kennel Club has found that, inevitably, we cannot cover all possible fetishes by a simple checklist. So too might critical details to the client's fantasy be left out, and we will not stand for anything lest than perfect service. Nor will our girls. Thus, we have provided the following space for clients to write in the details of their desired fantasy, and Kennel Club Inc. will dutifully fulfill it. Provided this fantasy does not violate Club rules, which have been previously explained in the brochure."
Roughly half a page of blank lines are below the paragraph, and your pen moves down to fill them in.
Author's request: Seriously, comment and fill in the blank! I'm taking Kennel Club as a completely open-suggestion story (save for a few chapters I want to write here and there) and will make a chapter to cater to any fantasy you care to see. So long as it takes place in this world, which is roughly modern (2008ish, presently) America, doesn't use magic, and doesn't involve snuff, mutilation (biting, branding, piercing (love) etc. are okay), or permanent vore. If I get a bunch of requests or tied up otherwise, sure this might take some time. But it's free! I'm doing it for fun and to give you personalized fapping material. You'll be credited at the story's beginning for the premise and I'll be sure to alert you when it's up. If you're really elaborate and need to send an email, let me know and I'll get an email address