Kane’s Cum Bucket Bitch ch. 8 (end) by DiscipleN..,
Silvia takes in the abandoned Sheltie from next door. How will two bitches be shared by Kane? , Over the following week, Kane mounted me as often as usual, once or twice a day. Each time, I made sure to take his jutting member in my douched, excessively-lubed ass. I video recorded each session and sent them to Connie.
She emailed, “These are fine.”
I wrote, “He has started to bite my shoulder while he mounts me, when I stick him in my bum.” I rubbed my shoulder upon typing that. Kane was biting almost hard enough to break skin.
“I see.” She replied. “I’ll guess that he wants more variety. Therefore, you must flip a coin each time he mounts you. Even you can guess what to do based on the result. Except — tomorrow and the next day you will let him mount you however he chooses. Afterwards, flip a coin for the next three weeks.”
“PS, you useless bottom feeder. Alphas have COCKS, not penises. You only have cunts, three of them.” To reinforce her power over me, she attached her bill for my anal training, five thousand dollars.
I sent payment and signed off of the computer. Kane rested in the doorway, having licked his cock clean of my douched but still unsanitary ass-cunt. My anus was taking longer and longer to close up, and it was almost as sore as my shoulder. I had tried using more lube, but it turned out that a third of a bottle was the right amount. More was only wasted. I debated buying a double headed coin before diving into work.
Given his choice, later that night, Kane fucked my true cunt. I had almost forgotten how hard he could make me cum! I screamed with joy from his boiling sperm which strived to fill my womb. My climaxes from anal sex waned after a couple days into my training. My bowels grew accustomed to Kane’s hot colonic. I took to masturbating while we stood connected, waiting for his knot to slip free. That proved to be a reliable orgasm. My sense of our deeper connection got me off almost as powerfully as vaginal sex.
“Ohhhh, thank you, M-master.” I sank into the blanket at the foot of Kane’s bed. My cunt dripped with cum. His knot had popped out of my vulva when he stepped over my hips, expecting to stand behind me. I barely had strength to crawl under him and suck his cock clean. I winced at the taste, but his cum no longer disgusted me.
He surprised me then by turning around. He head bent between my legs, and he casually lapped at the juices issuing from his bitch’s cunt. Was he making sure that he had fucked pussy? Perhaps he was thanking me. It was one of the unimportant things in our communications that I had trouble figuring out. I didn’t waste time contemplating it. I howled and hugged him from below when his firm, lapping tongue drew a double orgasm from my clit and hairy lips.
“I LOVE YOU!”
In the middle of that night, he dragged me into his bed, and placed a warm, furry paw over my naked torso. He spooned me, his relaxed sheath tickling my butt. I slept wonderfully!
In the morning he made me suck him off, and my tummy got a full dose of his unappetizing semen. I would have lain in bed, waiting for my stomach to settle, but he needed to be let out to pee, and I had to make our breakfast.
Kane was now quite skilled at crapping into the toilet, but he didn’t like performing the contortions necessary to pee with accuracy. I think he also preferred to mark his territory.
He came in from the backyard with what could only be described as a frown. That day he went out to pee ten times. He didn’t once tell me to play with him. I checked his temperature. It was normal, 101F. He didn’t show any signs of illness, only confusion, or maybe it was disappointment. I felt guilty, even though he gave no hint of accusation. Against Connie’s wishes, I took him for a walk. It was a risk I had to take, in order to understand his low mood.
Upon exiting the front door, he dragged me towards Scranton Jones’ house. In the front yard stood a For Sale sign. On top of it was another sign. SOLD. He sniffed at the front door. The windows were bare of curtains.
I peeked in, crabbing left and right, trying to get every angle of view. Kane remained sniffing at the door. He started to whine. Soon he would keen, unable to get at whatever it was inside.
Finally, I spotted something far into the front bathroom. Its door was open, and half in view lay Flufflepuss. Scranton must have moved out days before. I never imagined him the type to abandon a pet, considering his religious righteousness. I wanted to break the window. Instead, I called Connie.
“BREAK THE FUCKING WINDOW.” She promised to drive over at warp speed.
The details of Flufflepuss’ ordeal are grim, but she survived. She nearly died of dehydration. The toilet bowl was empty. The water valve to the house had been turned off. Scranton hadn’t left any food. The contents of her stomach had turned to diminishing poops along the inside of the back door. The last had shreds of nylon carpeting in them.
I accepted her into my home after spending a couple thousand to save her life. Kane seemed to approve, even though she was no longer in heat. When she stabilized I had more time to think about her future. Every six months, the tiny bitch sheltie would certainly go into heat, for a week or two.
I slyly figured that she could handle some of the load on my back. By taking Kane’s vigorous fucking, she would enable occasional breaks for me.
She didn’t know what to make of my home. She sniffed everywhere, peed at the base of my office chair, and was content with pooping outside by signaling at the back door. Other than having to clean my chair, Kane prevented her from entering the office. He actually picked her up with his jaws around her neck and shook her while growling softly. She would sneak in when he and I weren’t around, but she didn’t pee there again.
She promptly began sleeping on the bed with or without Kane. It proved to be a bleak tell about my future. On nights when the alpha took me at the foot of his bed, Flufflepuss would peek over the edge of the mattress. I swear she was glaring at me. Occasionally, she would start barking like mad at our mating, until Kane woofed at her.
While she adjusted to her new home, I completed my anal training. I discovered that I could make myself cum quickly by masturbating right after Kane had filled my rear with his super hot cum. Being connected so intimately, ass to ass, aroused me nearly as much as the sensation of him pounding my sloppy pussy. I couldn’t concentrate on my pleasure when he ravaged my butthole. In the half-hour aftermath, I could pretend that we were connected on a loving level rather than alpha and bitch. I loved him most at those times.
Kane had yet to put his cock in the small, fluffy distortion of his species. I began to hope that he never would.
When I wasn’t working or relieving Kane’s needs, I applied the regular dog training techniques I’d learned from Connie, on Flufflepuss. Scranton must have spoiled her or didn’t care enough about her incessant barking. She fought literally with tooth and nail against my persistent efforts to stop her from barking at everything that moved outside of the house.