Liz sat on the couch, flipping through channels in a vain attempt to distract herself from her building frustration. The TV's noise and colors failed miserably in pulling her attention away; all she could think about was the need that Daddy had so expertly awakened and then refused to satiate. Every slight movement, like the gentle rub of her panties against herself only seemed magnified in its effect now - a relentless tease. Eventually she ditched the panties all together and just sat there in a skirt.
It was almost as if her entire being had become centered on this yearning. Liz felt more than a hint of desperation creeping into her thoughts, she knew it wouldn't be alleviated until Daddy deemed fit to give her the green light. She both loved and hated this game. Ever since they’d met he had the uncanny control over her. An ability to make her horny as hell yet also the ability to give her the most incredible pleasure experiences she’s ever had.
The wait was excruciating but then, like a beacon of both hope and potentially more torture came Daddy's message. “So lil one, how are you feeling?” He knowingly asked. Before she could answer he followed with the verbal vision of his current position.
As she read Daddy's message, Liz felt her breath catch in her throat. The image he described was seared into her mind - the large bed, his body reclined on it, and most of all, him stroking that incredible cock she had come to adore. Her desperation reached a fever pitch; every word, every visualization was like fuel added to the fire that had been simmering within her. The ache between her legs became almost unbearable, a constant reminder of the need that Daddy had ignited and now tantalizingly held just out of reach.
Her fingers trembled as she typed her response, trying to convey the depth of longing and frustration that filled every corner of her being. "I... I'm feeling desperate, Daddy," she managed to get out after several deleted attempts at playing it cooler. The admission felt both liberating and terrifying, a surrender to the desires that controlled her every waking thought.
As she sent off those revealing words into cyberspace, Liz felt an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. She had laid it all out for him - her desperation and need, a clear invitation to either satiate or prolong the exquisite agony. Her eyes were glued on her phone, every tick of time feeling like an eternity as she awaited his response.
The seconds passed with the speed and mercy of a dripping faucet, each drop representing another fractioning thought in Liz's mind - would he come through? Would she have to endure this relentless yearning for longer, teased by promises yet not fully fulfilled?
Then it came. A text from Daddy that read: "You're feeling desperate, huh? Good girl for telling me. Now... imagine my fingers tracing the edge of your skirt as you sit there, knowing exactly how much I know what's underneath... or rather isn't."
Liz felt her heart plunge, along with a sudden rush of cool air where she wished his warm fingers were. The words painted another vivid scene in her mind - this one, however, she could almost smell and taste. She let out a low whimper as her fingers involuntarily slipped to the edge of that skirt, tracing along where his words had led.
The phone pinged again. Liz looks down as the next textual visualization appears. Daddy’s describes how his hand is sliding up her knee. Slowly ever so slowly spread her legs. Her hand, almost as if hypnotized, repeats the actions she reads. Soon his hand is right between her upper thighs. Her skirt lifting and releasing a familiar scent of sex and horniness.
Next he tells her how he helps her slide to the floor. As she does her skirt bunches around her hips. He spreads her legs wide in anticipation of exploring her inner depths. Liz, again, copies what she reads in real life. Soon she is sitting there on the wooden floor. Skirt around hips. Legs spread wide. The cool night air tickles her intimate zone as her lust plays with her mind. She is so desperate for a release now. That’s all she craves.
Her phone buzzed again and Liz looked down. As she read the words her heart skipped a beat. “Call Winston over”.
Calling Winston over was an unexpected twist, and her mind momentarily faltered in anticipation of what Daddy had planned. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, mixed with curiosity and apprehension. Yet she also knew that Daddy knew her deepest darkest fantasies.
With hesitant hands, Liz called out to Winston. "Winston... come here boy." Her voice was soft but clear, and the bulldog's ears perked up from his resting place. He yawned lazily, then ambled over to Liz with a wagging tail.
As Winston approached her position on the floor, his eyes seemed oblivious to Liz's compromised state - skirt bunched around hips and legs spread wide. The scent of her arousal wafted up. Winston sniffled the air with new interest.
Liz's eyes locked onto her phone as she waited for Daddy's next instruction. Her heart pounded with anticipation, the need inside of her threatening to overwhelm all rational thought.
The message arrived promptly: "Tell Winston it's okay, let him explore." The words sparked a mixture of intrigue and slight unease within Liz.
"Okay boy... go ahead," Liz whispered, trying to coax Winston closer. To her surprise and a tad hesitation mixed with excitement she directed him gently, the bulldog seemed to understand that something different was happening.
Daddy’s next message lit her screen: "Now imagine my hand on Winston's head, guiding him closer to you." The words made her twitch; the anticipation of this novel and perhaps taboo exploration stirred deep inside. Yet, something held back by social norms seemed to make her pause. Daddy knew he was cultivating these intimate relations through constant observation to encourage Liz fully embracing a deep inner desire with which now nothing held any constraint.
The scent smelled like the pink panties he had enjoyed earlier. So after the initial hesitation had dissipated, Winston dipped in closer finally coming into a new understanding his tail would sway rapidly every so often, now eager - it almost resembled he too shared her fervent excitement.
When Winston first licked the spot she was already sensitized in, Liz felt electrified jolts traverse her frame making involuntary convulsive contractions erupt deep from within while at this point there's just so much more of everything Liz knows she must allow herself. This feeling had transcended the mere boundaries separating each distinct sensation from pure over-spilling rapture that was no longer held captive inside an agonizing craving to have.
Upon finding the most tender yet highly sensitive portion Winston lapped fervently almost as if having come to identify it in terms which only escalated its power of her response by magnifying proportions - and soon Liz felt herself lose all hold letting go at this extreme height reached where one could not bear anything else but give, allow and let flow unadulterated the bliss found that left all sense of time as well space around disintegrated within mere instants in what became then simply the culmination - it all had finally happened as was only known to and keenly anticipated solely by him.
As Winston's licks intensified, Liz felt herself catapulted into an uncharted territory of sensations. The initial hesitance gave way to uninhibited abandonment, allowing the bulldog's gentle yet insistent ministrations to awaken a depth of feeling she had never before experienced. It was as if every fiber,every nerve ending in her being converged to create a perfect storm of ecstasy.
The world around melted away, leaving only the focused attention on that singular point where Winston's lapping had ignited an inferno of delight. Time itself seemed to warp, elongating the moment into a boundless expanse where she floated on an unending sea of rapture.
The release, when it came, was akin to a dam breaking - an unbridled cascade of joy that poured through her entire being, stripping away all semblance of control. Liz felt herself shudder and convulse under Winston's continuing licks, her body giving over completely to the surging wave of bliss that enveloped every aspect of herself.
And yet, in this explosion of feelings and physical response lay a deep-seated satisfaction - an affirmation that all the wait, every tease had been building towards this exact culmination. It was almost as if Daddy's masterful orchestration of her needs, combined with the unforeseen involvement Winston had brought about an unforgettable event where she wasn't just experiencing release but embodying it entirely.
Liz came back to herself, or rather began the gradual process of doing so when her breath caught again in short gasps as Winston gave a few licks that weren't nearly so aggressive anymore before turning and retreating quietly away almost acknowledging what was asked of him. Silence took its place in that aftermath, interspersed with ragged inhales - all marking an intimate end for this encounter but also a beginning into many things yet unforeseen, known only by him.
As Liz regained some level of consciousness, her excitement and arousal had not dissipated. In fact, the intensity of what she'd just experienced seemed to have heightened her senses even further - an aftermath effect likely compounded by residual effects of still being very turned on and the recollection that had occurred just prior to blacking out.
She rolls onto her stomach she grabs a cushion and props it under her hips. She can't help but let out a contented sigh. The lingering sensations from her intense orgasm still course through her body, leaving her feeling electrified and yearning for more. She reaches for the phone on the coffee table, still lying within reach from where she was.
With a flirtatious giggle, Liz types back to Daddy. As she does she smiles at the nickname. It was so fitting. As, like a father, he fills her with warmth and excitement. Also the taboo nature of the name seems fitting. Especially right now. Liz thanks Daddy for helping her experience such an amazing release.
Her thoughts drift back to what just happened - an unanticipated and explosive release that seemed almost too good (or bad) not to share.
Daddy responds with “You’re most welcome, lil one. There’s nothing in the world that makes me happier than knowing that you’ve reached such a hedonistic level of pleasure.
Now you get some rest, lil one. There’s a big weekend ahead”. His loving sign off brings a huge contented smile to her face.
Liz lies there smirking like a schoolgirl with a crush. As she recounts her experience in her head, she becomes increasingly aroused. The memories of such an intense climax are clearly reigniting a passion within her, causing her to squirm slightly on the floor. Her skirt remains haphazardly bunched around her hips, offering minimal barrier or coverage as she shifts positions.
Winston's ears perk up as a distinct scent fills his nostrils, a primal signal that catches and holds his attention. His nose twitches with interest as he follows the smell to its source, which happens upon Liz's exposed and inviting form. English Bulldogs are known for their stubborn nature but also possess strong instincts, particularly those tied to scent and pack behavior.
As Liz lies there, basking in the afterglow of her experience and exchanging loving messages with Daddy, she's oblivious to Winston watching intently. The English Bulldog seems fixated on the scent wafting from her direction, an aroma that's both familiar and tantalizingly potent.
Winston approaches Liz cautiously at first before his nose draws him in closer. His tail begins to wag, though this time it's a slower and more deliberate movement as if he senses something primal. The bulldog is drawn to Liz's exposed form and, seemingly recognizing her receptivity through a complex mix of instincts.
Liz, caught up her own world of reminiscence about the experience she had just been a part and with messages shared on her phone remains lost in this bubble, as much is unfolding literally at the threshold of sight.
Liz’s mind is further distracted as it drifts to the mental image of Daddy’s large cock penetrating her, filling her with an intense sensation she craves deeply now is overwhelming. She imagines the moment when they'll be together again, and she can feel his seed inside her. This thought ignites a deep-seated desire within Liz, wanting to be completely owned by him.
Recognizing the posture Liz has assumed without intending to - her back arched, rear presented in a way that's almost unconscious and involuntary due largely from the pleasure she seeks to revisit - Winston experiences an immediate, instinctual response.
As she wiggles her rear in anticipation of her fantasy, Winston interprets this movement as an invitation. In canine behavior, such presentations are often a sign of receptivity and submission in the context he understands. The English Bulldog's body begins to prepare for a potential mating, and between his hind legs, an unexpected transformation occurs. Despite the breed's compact size known for stout bodies and short stature Winston has developed an unusually large penis now measuring 6 inches in length by about two-and-a-half-inches width which is significant even among larger breeds.
Winston's eyes, once filled with a lazy contentment as he sniffed the air are now fixed intently on Liz, his interest piquing to an unprecedented level. With this new physical development he begins moving closer with the aim of mounting her his hindquarters beginning their ascent into a stance typical before coitus. Completely absorbed by the erotic conversation and her personal fantasies Liz doesn't sense Winston creeping closer, oblivious to his intentions...
Liz remains lost in her fantasies, completely absorbed by the mental images of Daddy's intimate touch and his dominant presence. She is oblivious to Winston’s actions, her mind focused on the anticipation of being filled and owned by Daddy. The fantasies intensify as she imagines his strong hands guiding her, positioning himself to penetrate deep into her.
As Winston prepares for mounting he does so by first getting his front paws under Liz's hips and begins lifting them upward. The unexpected lift jolts her into sudden awareness - but Liz mistakes it as a part of the ongoing sexual fantasy still deeply entrenched in her subconscious.
With Winston finally positioning himself she feels a warm, blunt object touching the outside of vaginal lips. Given Liz’s highly sexualized mental state and Winston's actions mirroring typical canine copulatory behavior her body responds by lubricating itself in expectation.
As Winston pushes forward, the sudden realization hits Liz that it's not Daddy but rather an animal preparing to penetrate her - and yet she cannot bring herself out of the haze. Paralyzed between fear, confusion about this abrupt awakening to Winston’s intention her mental state fails in making swift decisive judgment while trying still grappling with reality slowly trickling into consciousness.
A battle erupts inside her - caught between revulsion, embarrassment and above all a desire deeply intertwined with instinctual triggers now so potently primed due primarily to Winston’s recent unanticipated rise into what unmistakably felt an act driven solely from basest primal urges shared by virtually all life forms regardless size type species age in that instant before finally surmounting any final rational objection.
Liz's initial shock freezes her in place. Winston, driven by primal instinct and interpreting this frozen state as a sign of acceptance or even invitation, proceeds with his canine mating behavior.
The initial poking around doesn't immediately find its target, but with each thrusting motion Winston gets closer to his goal. Liz's mind rushes back from the fantasies of Daddy, and she faces a harsh reality: an English Bulldog is attempting to mate with her. Panic starts setting in, but before she can react or attempt any form of resistance Winston makes another lunge forward his large member surges closer...
Liz's world seems to halt. The sound of Winston’s breathing behind her head leaves her in a state of suspended animation, akin to being turned into stone by Medusa's gaze. All her thoughts and bodily functions seem paralyzed, unable to process the implications of what she just heard.
For a moment that stretches into an eternity for Liz. The initial shock is overwhelming. Although she had fantasized about this at times she never thought she’d venture into this territory. She thinks she has reached the limits of depravity but realizes now those boundaries are far more flexible and perverse than previously imagined.
Liz attempts to rally herself, "No I can't" she utters to herself seeking some form of reassurance or reprieve from this surreal situation. Her inner monologue reveals a fierce resistance, labeling the act as debasing and refusing to become "a doggy bitch" in her mind. This resistance signifies a struggle between the woman she perceives herself to be and what is happening.
However, in that split second of indecision where her body remains frozen from shock and the mind grapples with a new level of moral, ethical dilemma her momentary lack response provides Winston the chance he needed. Taking advantage now is everything his primal senses have been directed toward, driven purely by instinct without any capacity for moral consideration.
The scene unfolds with a sense of inevitability, like the frames in slow motion film Liz imagines. Winston's cock aligns with her pussy and begins its relentless journey, pushing aside the lips as if they were mere curtains parting for an eagerly anticipated show. The ease with which it slides up her slit is due in large part to the copious juices she's produced from indulging so deeply and passionately into her fantasies, an ironic facilitator for this act.
Liz's inner struggle is reflected in the turmoil of her thoughts as she oscillates between fear and a strange, almost primal arousal. The tip's invasion into the entrance of her pussy sparks an intense reaction - shock, fear but also a forbidden and unwelcome arousal that she cannot control. Her mind races to comprehend the intrusion, an attempt at self-preservation as her body responds in ways she cannot fully dictate.
Then comes the decisive moment as Winston’s hind legs tense up. As Winston's grip tightens, Liz feels a surge of adrenaline mixed with fear and panic. Her body tenses up in anticipation of the impending act, her mind racing to comprehend what's happening. The primal instincts that drove Winston now seemed unstoppable.
With a final, decisive thrust, the bulldog's cock plunges deep into Liz’s pussy. The invasion is both painful and pleasurable at the same time - a sensation she's never experienced before. The initial shock is quickly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of fullness as the 6-inch cock stretches her vaginal walls. The heat and the moisture are more than an invitation - they're a primal affirmation of Winston's dominance over his newfound bitch.
The air seems to get stuck in Liz's lungs as she freezes, unsure of how to react. Her thoughts are a jumbled mix of horror and fascination - the debasement she always thought was unthinkable now felt all too real.
As Winston starts moving, his strokes become more confident and assertive. The bulldog’s hips move in a rhythmic motion, sliding his cock deeper into her with each thrust. Liz feels like she’s trapped in a nightmare - unable to escape, powerless against the force driving her further into an abyss of forbidden pleasure.
Her resistance begins crumbling under Winston’s persistent motion - a steady and unwavering tempo that chafes against the inner walls of her vagina. Every sensation seems magnified as if amplified through a megaphone, feeding into an underlying depravity Liz never knew she had.
For one brief moment it feels like time is moving backward. Everything goes dark - the space, her memories and thoughts dissolving into nothingness except for that all-consuming feeling. Her body feels invaded yet strangely pleasured.
Liz's defeated cry of "nooo" echoes through the room, a stark contrast to her earlier moans and gasps of pleasure. Tears start streaming down her cheeks as she comes face to face with the reality that has transpired, and perhaps more alarmingly for her self-image - what she is now willing to endure. The realization dawns on Liz, albeit reluctantly and through tears of despair mixed with shock that she may have no limits to the depths or nature of depravity, an idea as terrifying for her self-respect and dignity.
However the tears she sheds seem only to heighten Winston's fervor. Now that his initial goal is met and her body accommodates him, he unleashes a fervent energy. His hind legs stiffen with each powerful thrust reminiscent of the pistons in an old steam engine driving a locomotive at full throttle. The intensity and force of each stroke are unyielding propelling his large member ever deeper into the recesses within Liz.
Every single movement brings with it a dual outcome for Winston and his unwilling recipient. To him each powerful lunge forward is the fulfillment of an unrelenting primal drive - to mate, claim dominance over this human who lay beneath him and experience pleasure unbridled by societal norms. Conversely each deep penetrating thrust discovers fresh nerve endings within Liz sending waves of an unfamiliar, unwelcome yet undeniable pleasure coursing through her body. These signals are akin to sparks igniting a fire that despite all initial reluctance and resistance she can't seem able or perhaps willing to fully extinguish.
As Winston continues his fervent assault, grunting with each forceful thrust into Liz's body she grasps at a last-ditch rationale to salvage what remains of her self-respect. In an act that's as much about mental preservation for Liz, she attempts to distance herself from the physical sensations Winston is eliciting by deciding not actively participate or derive pleasure. Her reasoning hinges on a desperate attempt to redefine the experience if only in her mind - as long she doesn't actively enjoy or succumb willingly, then the act isn’t a full submission on her part.
With this newfound resolve Liz's body relaxes going limp beneath Winston. However, far from signaling victory or a form of moral resistance her newfound passivity has an unexpected effect on Winston. Instead his fervent energy and pace begin to wane as the absence of any form resistance, let alone an active participant frustrates him. The bulldog seems to yearn for more than just a physical act - there's an almost primal desire in him seeking not merely to penetrate, but dominate.
Realizing his conquest now seems lifeless and unresponsive Winston alters strategy. Slowing the tempo of thrusts, he appears to pace himself now rather than drive towards a speedy culmination. This adjustment reflects Winston’s primal intuition - the realization that merely possessing isn’t enough; there must be a form of acknowledgment or reciprocation, however minimal from the one being mounted to truly seal this act as an expression dominance.
Liz's attempt to distance herself from the physical sensations and redefine her experience as a form of non-participation seems to have backfired. Winston's slowed pace and altered strategy indicate that he seeks more than just physical penetration; he desires a form of recognition or submission from her.
As the bulldog continues to thrust into Liz, albeit at a slower tempo now she becomes increasingly aware that his actions aren't merely driven by instinct but also influenced the dynamics of dominance and submission. This realization sends a shiver down her spine, forcing Liz confront depths within herself that she never thought possible.
Despite initial reservations and attempts moral resistance her body starts reacting the prolonged stimulation Winston provides. She begins experiencing a strange dichotomy - mentally recoiling from situation while her body exhibits subtle involuntary responses, betraying hidden arousal.
These physical reactions manifest almost imperceptibly at first; slight tremors around lips, involuntary contractions in her vaginal walls as well a barely noticeable shift of hips seeking to find better angle that allows deeper penetration.
It's these tiny betrayals her own body rather than Winston’s forceful actions, however well-meaning or misguided which inadvertently lead Liz further into territory she dreads exploring but seems inexorably drawn to - an uncharted realm where moral ambiguity meets primal desire, shattering her perception self.
In a bid to reclaim lost ground and salvage last vestiges of dignity Liz decides take drastic action. With a reluctant resolve to bring this ordeal to an end, she begins pushing back against Winston's thrusts. Additionally attempting tighten her vaginal muscles around his cock hoping this physical reciprocation would hasten Winston's culmination.
However, the immediate response from her actions makes navigating this approach extremely challenging. As soon as Liz starts reacting and tightening around him, Winston's instincts kick into high gear once more. His grip on her hips intensifies as his hindquarters accelerate their thrusting, returning to a fervent and unrelenting pace.
The sensations this elicits within Liz threaten her resolve, the line between merely facilitating Winston's finish and deriving unwanted pleasure from this act begins to blur alarmingly. The physical response of her body, particularly the tingling within her pussy as a result his actions makes it increasingly difficult for Liz to maintain an emotional detachment.
In the midst of this fervent exchange, as she pushes back against one particularly vigorous thrust something unforeseen happens. The pillow supporting her hips shifts its position subtly but critically, altering the angle of Winston's penetration.
The consequence is immediate and profound. With this new alignment his cock thrusts against her g-spot with unrelenting force, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure coursing through Liz's body. This accidental adjustment ignites a firestorm within her, as she struggles mightily to resist the overwhelming physical sensations now threatening consume all semblance reason or resolve.
As the electricity of lust courses through her core, Liz's body betrays any remaining logic or control from her mind. Her hips now move in tandem with Winston's thrusts, allowing his cock to relentlessly rub against her g-spot. This physical reaction is no longer governed by any conscious decision but rather an uncontrollable primal urge.
In a final, desperate attempt to resist the inevitable Liz tries to intervene. However it is at this precise moment Winston's large knot thrusts towards her pussy lips. With all the lubricant of the day the silky folds of flesh provide little barrier to the assault.
As Winston's knot becomes engaged with her, Liz feels an intense sensation that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. It is as if their bodies have become inextricably linked, transcending the boundaries of human and animal. The feeling is both exhilarating and terrifying, threatening to consume her very being.
Liz's attempts at resistance are now futile. Her body has betrayed all rational thought, surrendering to the primal urge that drives her actions and reactions. Her hips move in perfect sync with Winston's, as if they are two halves of a whole that have been reunited.
The sensation building within her is like nothing she has ever experienced. It's as if every nerve ending, every fiber of being converges to create a vortex that threatens suck her down. The intensity is such she's not sure if it would ever reach culmination, just that this unrelenting storm must keep raging on.
And yet within the whirlwind of her thoughts and amidst shattering walls guarding hidden, deep recesses - somewhere something fundamental clicks. Perhaps it's that point she acknowledges a primordial truth about herself: one of unfettered, primal desire; unencumbered by conventions societal expectations...
The sensations overwhelming her become too intense for any semblance of resistance. With an acknowledgment that is both physical and psychological Liz submits, her head dropping in a gesture of defeat as she acknowledges the dominance Winston now exerts over her. The realization that there is no escape, and more fundamentally an acceptance of the situation leads to a tension build-up within her body signaling that she has crossed into uncharted territory.
Her desire for release now takes precedence. Her Daddy had encouraged to push her limits and now she was going to break through them. She begins to uncontrollably pant like a bitch in heat. The building up of her orgasm resembles the unstoppable force and magnitude associated with a tsunami, implying an uncontrollable natural phenomenon that is destined to crash down.
This moment of submission and acknowledged defeat signified Winston's victory, solidifying his position as the dominant partner. His body responds in kind; with a heightened urgency reflected by tighter balls, Winston reaches his own point climax. With that last mighty thrust an explosive discharge pours into her her fertile womb. A sudden warmth spreads like ripples through pool touching every point their conjoined flesh.
With each burst Winston asserts his dominance, marking her in the most primal and intimate manner. The culmination is not merely about physical release but also an unspoken claim of ownership - the assertion that she now belongs to him. And as their intertwined bodies reach this zenith, they have entered into a primal contract of dominance and submission.
As the warmth of his seed fills her deepest private regions Liz’s raw lil emotions boil over. The ecstasy consumes her and Liz's world narrows down to a single point of intense pleasure. The sensations coursing through her body are like nothing she has ever experienced before - a riot of color, sound, and feeling that defies all rational thoughts.
Her mind is lost in a maelstrom of pure, unadulterated lust. The boundaries between herself and Winston dissolve as their two beings become one, united in a shared moment of primal pleasure.
Time itself seems to warp and bend as Liz rides the wave, her body wracked with convulsion after convulsive shudder. It's as if every single cell in her body has become attuned to a singular frequency of pure ecstasy.
The room around them fades into nothingness, leaving only the sound of ragged breathing and labored grunts from Winston as he holds her in place. The scent of sex, sweat, and primal earthiness hangs heavy over them like an impenetrable shroud.
Liz's awareness is stretched to its breaking point, strung taut like a violin string vibrating with unrelenting energy. She is one giant nerve ending of pure feeling - not just her own, but Winston's as well.
And yet...even in the midst of this vortex she still can feel it. Something growing inside, spreading like a flame - an emotional knowledge born not of words or rational understanding but deep bone-scarred awareness... She knows she can't ever be the same person.
As they momentarily stand frozen an unexpected sense equilibrium seems find them; a calm right the very heart maelstrom as this profound act - at once beautiful brutal is completed.