Stephanie - Just When Things Turned Around

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Stephanie - Just When Things Turned Around

So, this what my life has become. One terrible disaster after another. It hasn't always seemed like that, but the last few weeks has been horrid. It started about thee weeks ago. I was pregnant with my boyfriend's child, and we were ecstatic. At about three months along, I got into a car accident, and miscarried. I was totally devastated. My boyfriend blamed me for the accident, and in turn blamed me for losing the baby. And to finish off the hat-trick, he walked out on me.

I had to be hospitalized for several days, due to internal injuries the doctors wanted to monitor. I let my boss know what had happened, and she told me she understood, and would see me back at work as soon as possible. When I got back to work about a week later, she completely flipped the script on me, and told me I should have been at work, and that the doctor's letter was clearly a fake. I showed her my bruises from the seat belt (and the still fading black eyes from the air bag) and she chalked it up to bad make up, and fired me.

And for the last two weeks, every job I've submitted a resume to, they call my previous employer, and she tells them how I am incompetent, and that I lied about being in a car accident and faking a miscarriage to get a free week off of work. Needless to say, call backs weren't happening very quickly. So I was sitting in an apartment with rent that would soon be due, mounting medical bills because my car insurance company was arguing paying for the miscarriage treatment, and not paying any of the bills they received.

Finally, when I thought things couldn't get worse, I got a call back for one of the jobs I applied for. The caller told me about the miserable things my previous employer had said, and decided to actually look into the matter. He said he knew some folks at the police department and hospital, and they confirmed my story. He also started his personal attorneys on getting me compensated for my wrongful termination, pro bono. All I had to do was come in and interview, and hopefully accept the job. I asked if his help would be pending on me accepting, and he assured me, it only pended on coming to the interview. I thanked him for his generosity, and scheduled the interview. I asked him what would be appropriate, and he said business casual.

I went to the interview a few days later, and I dressed as suggested. I was wearing a v-necked dark colored blouse, and a bra with just enough lift to make the cleavage from my C cup breasts noticeable, but not whorish. I wore a sensible, but tight pair of dress pants, but no panties, as I hate having any panty lines showing. I was wearing a pair of sensible flats. I put my fiery red hair up in a simple, businesslike bun.

I pulled up to the address he gave me for the interview, and saw that it was at a partial estate out in the country. "What am I getting into?" I asked myself. The gate opened, and I drove upto the house, and saw someone coming down the front steps.

"Stephanie?" he asked cheerfully, flashing a very handsome smile.

"Yes."

"I'm Robert, we spoke on the phone the other day."

It was nice to put a face to the name. He had short brown hair, flecked with gray, bright blue eyes, a chiseled jaw line, and aqualine features. He was wearing a polo shirt, khaki slacks, and like me, sensible shoes. He stood about 6'3", and had a strongly built chest, and the muscled arms suggested he worked out. I could imagine the abs hidden beneath his shirt.

"So I read your resume, and was thoroughly impressed. Unfortunately, we didn't have any positions open at the company. However, I think I could use your skills as a domestic assistant. You said, you were a records manager, correct?"

"Yes, I was responsible for archiving files at the law firm I worked for, and helping the paralegals with research. Mostly retrieving case files, so they could use previous precedents for whatever cases they were currently on. But, why as a domestic assistant? It sounds like you are hiring me as a maid," I chuckled.

"By domestic, I do mean around my house. And more importantly, I run a dog breeding operation here on the estate. And I need someone with your meticulous skills to handle registration paperwork, client lists, and, well, to be honest manage the whole thing. If you are interested, we can go back to the office in the kennels and we can discuss it."

I was very intrigued. I had never worked as a dog breeder, and wasn't quite sure what I was being asked. So, I agreed and we went down to the kennels. He showed me the estate, and explained the history, pointed out the stables for his horses and explained he also boarded for top horse breeders as well. The grounds were beautiful. I could only imagine getting to come work here every day. We got into the office, and I saw why he wanted someone of my meticulous nature. It was a wreck. Unorganized files, paperwork strewn about, and a sea of sticky notes.

"As you can see, my last manager was ineffective. He was getting the job done, but after I got an angry call from a client about him not showing up with a dog, I decided to check up on it. I came down and found...well...this. I called my accountant and asked about the income, and he looked into it, and it turns out, over the last few months, he had been charging. The right amount, but was skimming enough off the top to make it look like my business was just slowing down. He was just sentenced for embezzlement. Good riddance."

"So, Robert..."

"Bob. I like to keep things relaxed for people who work directly for me."

"Bob," I started again, "what would my compensation be?"

He went on to explain that I would be taking a hefty raise from the law firm I worked at, as well as having an apartment attached to the kennels, as well as free insurance and he would cover any costs to break my lease from my old apartment.

I was sold, and thanked him, and asked when I started.

"I was hoping today?"

I lost some, if not all of my composure, and threw my arms around his neck. After all I had been through my luck finally turned around. I regained my composure, and apologized.

"Don't worry about it. We are all bound to act like a human being from time to time," he chuckled. "I'm going to let you get started. Liz, my executive assistant, will be down shortly with your W4, and get your sizes for the uniforms."

"Uniforms?"

He explained that the staff all wore monogrammed shirts with the estate name, as well as employee names, khaki pants, and shoes that were all covered, as well as jackets and fleece vests for during the winter.

With that he left, and I started trying to make sense of the mess. Liz, a fairly plain woman, came in and we sat down and completed all the paperwork for payroll, insurance, and she got the sizes for my uniforms.

I met with the breeding staff, and and they were happy to help sort out the mess my predecessor left behind. By 9:00, I had sorted out most of the mess figured out, and had gotten an idea of how I was going to start organizing. I decided to call it a night and went to check out the apartment. There was a door marked "PRIVATE" in the office that opened to it, so there was no need to actually go out side. It wasn't much more than what I was staying in, but it was fully furnished, with a big screen tv, couch, table, end tables, and the bedroom had a comfy queen sized bed. I started to head to my car and was met by Bob.

"Working late?"

"Just finishing up. I was going to head back to my apartment for the night, and start packing. I'm going to need clothes and stuff."

"Sounds good, see you in the morning."

I got back home, and started throwing slacks and nice shirts in a garment bag, and all my everyday wear stuff went into a pair of suit cases. The next morning, I threw everything I packed, plus the other odds and ends I needed in the car and headed for the estate.

I arrived early and put everything away, and dressed for the day. I threw in slacks and a polo shirt (I needed to look like the rest of the staff), and started with the filing and organizing that I planned out the night before.

After another long tedious day, I went back into my new apartment and showered, and threw on a pair of panties and a t shirt. I heard the door close to the office, and opened my apartment door, and there was a bottle of wine sitting on the desk with a card.

"Thank you for offering to straighten out the mess. I can't imagine it is easy. Bob" it read. I grabbed a glass fro the kitchen and opened the wine to have a glass. I wasn't much of a wine drinker, but then again, I wasn't going to turn it down either. I poured the wine, and decided that I would take a walk through the kennels.

There were eight individual kennels, and each one had a massive English mastiff. A male English mastiff. Then it hit me, What Bob meant by "breeding" was that he ran a stud service. Basically, he was a pimp for dogs. The thought made me giggle, and I realized again why I didn't drink wine, as I was already tipsy. I placed my hand on the kennel and balanced myself. When I had my balance, I went to the dogs and started letting the gentle giants sniff at my hand through the chain link. Most of them would sniff me and lick my hand, a couple gave a deep, rumbling "woof" and wag their tails. I really loved the dogs, they were all a beautiful tan, with dark faces, the perfect example of their breed. I drank the last of my wine, and decided to walk into one of the kennels.

The big dog sat down patiently as I came into the kennel. I shut the gate and latched it behind me. I went to the big dog and knelt down beside him. I was talking to him, asking his name, while petting on him. He turned and stepped into me and started licking my face, and knocking me over on my butt.

"Ow," I laughed. "Does someone want some attention?"

I turned on to my hands and knees to get up, and he pushed his nose into my panties, and I could feel his breath push through the fabric and tickle my nether lips.

"Whoa there, big guy. I'm not that kind of girl. You need to take me to dinner at least."

I stood up, and walked to the kennel door, and when I turned around, he buried his nice in the crotch of my panties, sniffing and licking at my crotch.

"No, bad dog," I said in a raised voice. I was starting to get scared, and my voice was cracking. The giant dog pushed in between me and the gate, and I turned to walk to the other side of the kennel. When I did, 200 pounds of dog suddenly jumped on my back, and all 110 pounds of me went straight to my hands and knees.

I was paralyzed with fear. If I tried to get up, the dog will just knock me down, but I didn't want to stay on my hands and knees, because I didn't know what would happen. The dog continued to sniff and lick at the crotch of the panties. I told myself if I just held still, he would get bored and walk away. That thought went out the window the minute I felt him bite into my soaked panties and hear the tearing sound when he shook his head. I felt his cold nose poke into my cunt lips, and then his tongue licking my slit. And then I felt my body start to react to his tongue. I could feel my lips starting to part as my body told me it was becoming aroused, and I could feel that I was starting to get wet.

When his tongue hit my clit, it was like electricity. It felt good, and I was ashamed with myself. How could I think this is feeling good? I'm being molested against my will! This shouldn't feel good! And then his tongue hit my clit again, and I moaned, despite knowing this shouldn't be happening. Then he started probing my channel, his rough, bristly tongue reaching deep inside me. I moaned again as his tongue hit depths my boyfriend's (or any other man before him) tongue could reach. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice was telling me that I should enjoy it, but my rational mind was telling me it wasn't ok. I could feel the pressure growing in me, and I was shocked that my body was betraying me by building towards an orgasm on the dog's tongue. He went back to licking my slit again, and when his tongue hit my clit again, the dam burst, and a big orgasm hit me. Completely despondent over my body's betrayal, I laid my head down on my arms and started crying.

In the dog's mind, with my ass in the air and my head on the ground, I was showing him my submission, and he jumped on my back again. When he got in position, he wrapped his powerful front legs around my hips and started humping. I was now petrified. I could feel a hard, wet object bouncing off the backs of my thighs. I knew it was his dick looking for the right spot. I looked below me, and despite my t shirt, I could see his big red rocket. And I mean big! The monster dog had a massive cock! It was at least 8 inches long and still growing, and about two inches across. Ass he kept humping, I could feel his cock getting closer to its mark. It was hitting my panties, then it was hitting in my lips, and then the tip was seated in my opening. When the dog knew he hit his mark, he shoved as as much of his cock in me as possible.

"No!" I screamed as his cock roughly plowed into my pussy. He was driving into me like a jackhammer, with no mercy as he forced my pussy to stretch as he violated me. As his rough fucking continued. I could feel myself being filled like no man ever filled me before, and despite the fact that I knew I was being raped, that voice in the back of my mind was becoming more and more present. It kept telling me that this is what I wanted, to be thoroughly used. And before long it had taken over all thought, as my bash was building close and closer to orgasm. I found myself thrusting my ass back to meet his powerful, frenetic fucking. As my orgasm drew closer, I could feel something that felt like a hot tennis ball pushing up against my pussy lips. I was so lost in trying to reach my own orgasm, I completely forgot about the fact that when dogs mate, they end up tied together with the male's knot. I just didn't care. I was pushing back against his knot, harder and harder, as I felt it stretching my tight opening.

Soon it was about halfway into my pussy, and the end of his cock was pushing against my cervix. I threw my ass back at the dog and forced the rest of his knot inside me, and I felt it start to grow. It was swelling, putting constant pressure on my g spot, and the biggest orgasm of my life ripped through me. My contracting cunt was squeezing around his knot, making my orgasm carry on forever. Soon the dog's humping stopped, and then I felt a hot spray of dog cum coat the inside of my stuffed pussy. Jet after jet of cum was being unleashed in me, and that only added to the pleasure I was feeling.

Soon, he stopped cumming, and just laid on my back. After a couple minutes, he got off of me and stepped over my back so we were ass to ass, waiting in his organ to deflate so we could separate. I don't know how long we were like that, but eventually, he pulled away from me. It hurt like hell when his knot pulled out of my cunt, and my thighs were coated as a flood of dog jizz ran out of my pussy.

He walked past me, and for the first time I saw what was in me. His cock, from the tip to the base of his knot had to be 11 inches. I had never had a man with that kind of length or girth, and my pussy felt like it was stretched wide enough to have a train run through it and not feel it. As soon as I could stand, I stood up in shaky legs and let myself out of the kennel. I staggered down the kennel, anxious to get to the shower in the apartment and get cleaned up.

After my shower, I laid down and passed out. I didn't wake up till about 10 the next morning, my pussy aching. I got dressed and went out to the office, and found a box with a note on top of it.

"Stephanie, I need to see you when you get up. Make sure you are wearing what is in the box. If not, consider yourself terminated. Bob," the note read.

I opened the box and inside was a collar with a pendant. It simply said "Bitch". Seeing as how I didn't seem to have a choice, I put the collar on, and steeled myself for whatever Bob had in store for me...




Comments and suggestions welcome. Let me know what you think, and with enough positive responses, we will see what happens when Stephanie checks in with Bob....

Morg

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