little

*all works of erotica are based on fictional scenarios. We never condone anything that is not consensual.

I am nervous Sir.  More nervous than I can remember ever being.  I’ve been stressed about this since I brought it up.  I know you can see it and I appreciate that you have let me deal with this on my own.  

I’m sitting, perched on the end of my bed, getting ready. For you.

Slowly, I slide my stockings up–over my foot, past my knee, to finally let then settle on my thigh.  First the left, then the right.  I carefully make sure the line in back is straight.  These are your favorites Sir.  I wanted this to be special.

Next comes the garter belt.  I am not sure I will ever master the ability to hook the stockings on the first try.  I love the look of the black lace.  I leave off the matching undies.  I know you have no use for them, especially when I have shaved.

Now, I am slipping on the black lace dress.  It is the off the shoulder one that is skin-tight.  I have seen the look in your eye when I wear it.  

My hair is braided, so you can grab it easier.  I am unsure how tonight will go, so I am trying to anticipate your desires.

Red lipstick is next.  I have a feeling it will be smeared before the night is up.

Now comes the hard part.

I am watching the clock.  I asked for a half hour to get ready for you.  You said you wanted to be surprised.  I want this to meet your extremely high expectations, Sir.

I open the dresser drawer and for just a moment, my breath hitches.  Lying there is the pink piggie tail.  It is not the largest plug we’ve ever played with, but not the smallest.  It’s the eight inches of curl that I keep staring at.  

Am I ready for this?

I reverently take it from the box.  I put the box back into the drawer and close it with a click.  I can feel the weight of the tail in my palm.  I close my eyes briefly, just feeling the silicone.

I can do this. 

I want this.

I need this.

I tighten my fist around the plug and head into the bathroom.  I grab the lube from the vanity and move back into the bedroom to get more comfortable.  I lube it liberally, bend my leg to give me more room, and move it to my ass.

I feel the pressure against my hole.  It gives little with the first push.  But with a second, third, even fourth push, it is slowly going inside.  I won’t stretch myself beyond what the tail does.  Because you like when I feel the burn.  You like that I am going to be reminded for a couple of days about this.  You know it’s going to take one look from you and I’m going to be fidgety, and sore, and embarrassed.

And you love it.

I take my time.  I’ve still got fifteen, of my half hour, left and you would be very displeased if I damaged myself.

Five agonizing minutes later and it finally pops fully past the muscle ring and suddenly I feel very full.  I can feel it shifting, ever so slightly.

I wipe the remaining lube off my hand with a towel and move to get up.  I roll from the bed, down to my knees.  

Did you know that an eight-inch tail bounces, Sir?

I forgot.

There are jolts of pleasure going up my spine now.  I take a few breaths to calm myself.

I crawl back over to the dresser and hidden in a bottom drawer is the rest of my attire.

First comes the piggie ears.  They are soft Sir.  And honestly, not much different than cat ears.  

Last, but certainly not least, is the hardest part.  The silicone piggie nose.  This one fucks with my head.  Years of torment flash through my mind as I stare down at the nose.

Five minutes.

Only a few more minutes before I am to text you and have you come downstairs to our playroom.

Four minutes.

I think I have forgotten how to breath.  

Three minutes.

This shouldn’t be this hard.

Two minutes.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and fasten the nose in place.

One minute.

I grab my leather collar from my drawer.  I need this today.  I need the absolute, unquestioning submission that comes with this collar.  

It’s time.

I place the O-ring between my teeth and crawl over to the door.  Today, I will be waiting for you on all fours.  I keep my collar between my teeth because piggies don’t have hands, Sir.

Just before I set my phone aside, I let you know it’s time.

The silence is all consuming as I wait.

Normally, I can hear you coming.  But it isn’t until the door snicks open than I realize you’ve arrived.

My anxiety has my body taunt.  I’m nervous again.

This has come so far from where we started.  I’m afraid I will scare you away.  I’m afraid you’ll be disgusted.  I’m afraid you’ll mock me.  I’m afraid that despite your reassurances, this isn’t something you really ever wanted.

And then, you step up to me, your leather boots just inside my eyes sight and say, “There’s my good little piggie.”

And in that instant, I’m calm. I’m yours. 

I can finally breathe.  

Your boots leave my sight as you walk around me.  I can only imagine you are committing every inch of me to memory.  I am embarrassed.  But I know better than to move.

I hear you snap.  My eyes stay down but I turn towards the sound.  A full one eighty and I crawl forward until your boots come back into view.

“Kneel up.”

I move onto my knees and am quickly reminded about the tail in me.  Every movement has my insides clenching.  The longer I have the tail in, the more I am reminded of how empty my cunt is.

This is going to be a test of self-control.

I am startled out of my thoughts when you hand comes to rest on the back of my neck.  The warmth has my eyes sliding closed.  I love your touch.  

You work the clasp of my chainmaille collar easily and slide it from my neck.  I hear you place it on the nightstand.  It will be an easy find when we are finished.

You grasp the leather collar and I let the O-ring go.  I feel it snug against my neck and instead of clasping it, you pull it tight, choking me.  

Then game has begun.

You close the clasp and that your fingers lift my chin until I am looking you in the eye.  Its so hard to meet your eyes Sir.  Your forehead rests against mine.  

“Too tight?” you ask.

I go to shake my head, but you stop me.  “No, Sir.”  

“Good little piggie.”  You smirk, ever so slightly.  You wrap my braid around your hand and pull my head back.  “Tonight, we are going to do something different.  Piggies do not talk.  So, tonight, you will not either.  This ends when my piggie oinks.  And only when my piggie oinks.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.  This ends when piggie oinks”

“Good Girl.”

With that, you stood and started walking, your hand still in my hair.  I crawled after you as fast as I could.  You held me in place when we got to an open space.

“Stay still, head up.”

It is odd to hear you give so much direction Sir.  Normally, I only hear the rhythm of your breathing and the occasional growl.  

You are still out of my sight.  Then I see it.  A flash.  

You are taking pictures.

I bite my lip.  I do not want to share this humiliation with anyone else Sir.  I contemplate, for a split second, of ending this.  

Then I feel shame.  We have done so much worse than taking pictures.  If I can trust you to keep my confidence, I can trust you with this.

Time flows differently in this headspace.  I do not know how long you took pictures.  I think you are taking your sweet time just to fuck with me.  You know how uncomfortable I am.  You know I am more in my head during this than I ever have been before.  

You are at my eye level again.  Your camera is right in front of me.  I know you want me to look at the camera.  You want to capture my shame.  No, that’s not completely right.  You want to capture me at my dirtiest.  You want a souvenir; of the things I only allow you to see and do.

The flash is bright in the dark room.  It makes me blink.  It is continuous.  I am losing count of the pictures.  I can hear the clicks.  Every time my head drops, the toe of your boot comes up under my chin to bring it back up.  The third time I drop my chin, I assume you have grown tired of correcting me.  Instead of your boot meeting my chin, it comes up to my shoulder and pushes me back.  My hands lift from the ground and I’m back on my haunches, looking up at you.  

Your boot is on my chest, and the pressure is tremendous.  I am pushing back against you.  Dressed as a piggie or not, I won’t go down without a fight Sir.  My thighs are burning with trying to support my weight and not bend under yours.  

I hear you chuckle.  You are getting such pleasure out of my fight.  I think you are waiting for me to break.  We both know you haven’t pushed me far enough yet.

My hands move swiftly from my side and grasp the underside of your boot, successfully separating it from my chest.

Is that all you have, Sir?

I must focus, Sir.  Did you know that there is apparently less than eight inches from my ass to the ground in this position?  The more you push me back, the more my tail shifts.  My body keeps clenching.  It splits my attention enough for my hands to slip.  Next thing I know, I’m on my back, staring up at you.  I quickly roll to my side.  Without a word, your boot is on my cheek.

“Its not nice to try and run little piggie.”  You chuckle.

Then I feel it.

One quick tap to my ass.  

It’s the cane.

Thwack. Thwack.

There is no warm-up.  I guess that is what I get for fighting back.  

Thwack.

God Dammit, this hurts.  I grit my teeth and breathe through it.  I am waiting Sir.  Waiting for you to shift just enough that I can shimmy away.  As if sensing my desires, you step back.

“Face down piggie, ass in the air.  I want a clear view as I redden it.”

I take just a moment to push myself up onto all fours.  

I crawl forward in front of you, giving you more room to maneuver.  Then I turned and crawled down the hallway, as fast as I could from you.  Logically, I know you will catch me Sir.  But, I am going to make you work for it.

I do not think I made it more than fifteen feet from you before you yanked my braid.  

“Bad piggie.”

You pull me entirely back by my hair until I am flipped onto my back.  You stepped on me, grinding the heel into my pierced nipple.  I feel the piercing catch between the rubber.  It hurts.  Oh god, does it hurt.  

I hear the cane hit the linoleum beyond my head.  It takes my attention just enough for you to change position.  You drop down to straddle my waist.  My hands come up to your thighs and I try to push you back.  

Without a second thought, your hand is on my throat and I can feel you squeeze.  It drives the fight from me.  It is unfair of you Sir.  You ease the pressure enough for me to gasp in a breath, but your hand stays curved around my throat.

My eyes are wide, and my chest is heaving.  The tail is uncomfortable, it tugs and every time I try to move my hips, it sends jolts of pleasure up my spine.  

Damn you.  Damn you Sir for indulging me.

Thirty seconds.  That is all the breathing you allow before you tighten your grip again.  This time your other hand covers my mouth and nose.  You lean your head down to rest your lips against the hand over mine and stare me down.  

This is the most intense I’ve ever seen you Sir.  There is no question in my mind you’ve started letting the Dragon take control.

You let go as I start to see the black edging into my vision.  I’m panicking.  I get three full breaths in before you resume suffocating me.  My chest feels tight.  My hand is frantically tapping at your pants.  I am wiggling as much as I can, but you have me effectively pinned.

Again.  You let me take a couple breaths.  And again, you go until the blackness edges in.

Three times you do this.  Because I always tell you things must happen in threes.  So shows your kindness to my OCD.

Finally, you let me breathe.  You grab and hold my wrists.  

“Look at me.”

Try as I might, I’m struggling to meet your eyes.  I’m quite dazed Sir.  I feel very floaty and it hurts to meet your gaze.  Little piggie is rapidly becoming sensitive and cold Sir.  It is getting hard to focus.

I need grounding, Sir.

You stand above me, and I can only assume you backed up because you are now out of my sight.  

“Come here piggie.  Come to Master.”

My eyes slide closed and with my chest still heaving, I roll over to get on all fours.  Slowly, I get onto all fours and turn around.  I crawl down the hall until I am staring down at your boots.  They are comforting.

“You’ve been so good piggie.”  Your hand rests on my head and I can feel your nails scratching me.  “But still so shy.”

My body burns as I listen to you make snorting noises under your breath.  You are needling it home, Sir.  

“I think we are going to go for a walk.”

No.

That is what I want to scream at you.  But I find myself speechless.  You wouldn’t do that, would you?  Please Sir.  Please don’t do this.

I feel the tug on my O-Ring and suddenly I am aware of the weight of the metal leash.  My chest is constricting with panic.  This, this is about humiliation.  I am not a pet Sir.  Please don’t make me do this.

I fell you reach down to the hem of my dress and start pulling it upward.  “Piggies don’t wear clothes.”  You pull it over my head and then readjust my ears afterward.

You stand and tug on the leash.

“Be a good little piggie.”  How desperately I want to hear that.  And how desperately I do not want to do this.

Almost mechanically, I crawl forward.  

You won’t open the door.  You can’t.

A few more feet and my knees hit the cold linoleum.  I hear the chain lock slide out of place.  You tug me over to your left side, just out of the door’s path.  Then the lock on the knob is turned.  I cannot look.  I want to believe you are just fucking with me.  But I know you.  If you want this, it will happen.

Then the cold air hits me and the light becomes too bright as the door drags open.  There is just a shoulder high concrete wall that conceals me from the world.  You step out onto the concrete and the tug on my leash leaves no question that I am to follow.

Please Sir.  Please don’t do this.

I hear you in my head.  All I have to do is oink.  This all ends when I oink.  But the word is stuck in my throat.  

My knees hit the concrete.  It is cold and rough on my knees.  I know it will tear the stockings before we are done.

I hit the first step and then the second.  There are only eight.  In no time, I will be naked and visible to everyone.  I am torn.  My mind is racing a mile a minute.  I want to be good.  I want you to be proud and show me off.  I want to do anything you ask.

But I cannot do this, Sir.

Not yet.

Please.

“Oink.”

I sob the word out and, in a heartbeat, you are sitting and holding me.  I’m so sorry Sir.  I am so sorry.  I feel such shame that I cannot do this for you.  

“Shh.  You did well.  There is no need to apologize.”  You calmly unhook the leash and prompt me inside.  You shut the door behind us and lock it back up.  You settle onto the floor and pull my head into your lap.  You remove my ears and the nose.  You run your fingers through my hair and just let me be.  

I am so upset with myself.  I have failed you Sir.  

Once the tears start to calm, I am hesitant to open my eyes.  I do not wish to see disappointment in your eyes.  Yet, I cannot help but search you out.  

I look up and hesitantly meet your eyes.  I see you smiling down at me.  I cannot fathom why.  

I must have been easy to read Sir.  “I am so proud of you.”

Why?  Why would you be proud of me for ending a scene?  Why would you be proud of me for letting the fear win?  I can only stare at you.  I do not even know how to articulate the rhetoric in my head.

“I am proud of you.”

I realize, in that moment, that we will discuss this later.  Right now, what matters, is taking care of me.

Soon, you will give me kisses and remind me that you love me.  Then you will stand and let me kiss your boots as I thank you, piggie tail still in place.  Tomorrow, you will ask me to write about the experience; to tell you what happened and why.  Right now, though, you will hold me until you are sure I am ok…all while plotting just how we can push this farther next time.

Let me tell you now, I look forward to your creativity the next time your little piggie comes to visit.

My name is Joji.  I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42.  I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling.  I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay.  I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning.  I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan.  I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education).  It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement.  We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.