After enjoying Liz’s body Winston is determined to display his dominance
As Liz slowly got up from the floor, she couldn't shake off the feeling of déjà vu that lingered within her. The memories of what had transpired just hours before came flooding back, and with them, a mix of emotions she couldn't quite process. The pain between her legs was palpable, and the sight before her only served as a stark reminder of what had happened. The globs of fluid on the floor, an unsettling mix of her own juices and Winston's cum, seemed to gleam in the light that filtered through into the room.
Despite her initial revulsion and violation, Liz couldn't deny a strange sense of exhilaration that coursed through her veins. It was as if the primal, raw act had awakened something deep within her—a part of herself she hadn't known existed. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, both terrifying and intriguing at the same time.
Liz knew she needed to clean up but found herself lingering, her gaze fixed on the evidence of what had occurred. It was as if she needed to acknowledge it fully, not just with her mind but also on a deeper level. She took steps towards the mess cautiously and dropped to one knee beside it, her hand extending as if in slow motion. Her fingers brushed against the fluid hesitantly before she drew back, startled by her own audacity.
The sound of Winston's heavy breathing and the movement from across where he lay caught her attention. He seemed content, almost as if satisfied with what had transpired between them earlier on the floor where she currently kneeled, staring at her hand now glistening with their shared fluid.
Liz found herself drawn into a deep, introspective silence. Her thoughts swirled with confusion and the aftermath of such an unexpected event—her mind wrestling between repulsion, curiosity about her body's betrayal in responding to such primal stimulation. With each passing moment she couldn't help but ponder if this was a turning point for her, an awakening of sorts.
With great reluctance and the need to distance herself from these confusing feelings for a while, Liz finally stood up. Her movements were deliberate and slow as she turned away from the scene on her floor, towards a new day ahead where perhaps answers might reveal themselves about what had truly just transpired within her very being, on every level possible.
Liz's heart skipped a beat as she watched Winston approach the scene of their earlier encounter. The air seemed to thicken with an unspoken understanding, a primal energy that vibrated between them. She couldn't help but feel frozen in place as Winston sniffed at the fluids on the floor, his grunt of approval sending a shiver down her spine. It was as if he had claimed this space, and by extension, she herself.
Their eyes met again in a silent confrontation. The playful spark that usually danced within Winston's gaze was now overshadowed by an unmistakable dominance, a sense of ownership that unnerved and strangely exhilarated Liz. It was as if she had crossed into a new dynamic, one where the familiar lines of their previous relationship were blurred beyond recognition.
The sound that escaped Winston's throat next was unmistakable—a deep, commanding bark. It sent a tremor through Liz as she watched him begin to move closer towards her, his shaft visibly growing with each step. This was no playful approach; this carried the weight of demand and expectation.
Liz felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to step back, reclaim the control she once thought was hers in this space and their interaction. Another part of her seemed rooted, intrigued by the primal dance unfolding before them.
Winston's progression towards Liz was steady and unyielding. His intent could not be misunderstood, his gaze pinning her in place with a silent command she seemed powerless to defy. The sound of the floor beneath his feet as he moved closer was almost deafening in its significance.
With every step Winston took, the distance between them diminished until they stood just inches apart. The air was electric with tension as Winston towered over Liz, his breath warm against her skin.
As Winston's bark echoed through the space, Liz felt her body surrender to a will that wasn't entirely hers. Despite any rational protests from within, she slid down onto her knees without conscious decision-making on the surface level. Her legs parted of their own accord, exposing herself to Winston once more.
The action seemed almost instinctual now—she spread her legs wider, surrendering to the primal demands being placed upon them by this dominant force. Her gaze couldn't meet Winston's, yet she could feel his approval as he moved forward.
Winston began by using the snout to explore her, taking in every detail. The warmth of his breath danced across Liz's skin and then without warning he started to use the tongue for a more thorough exploration. Each stroke sent waves of unexpected pleasure through her, even as part if the mind still rebelled at these unfolding events.
As he licked away with relish, a hand reached down of her volition. Liz’s fingers found the folds she previously used to consider so private now open like gates for his indulgence, pulling back on either side with fingers that felt disconnected from the mind in revolt. It was clear; she now played a part within his desires.
Each moment passed only served to further blur lines previously held firm in definitions of self and what she deemed acceptable. Winston's satisfaction at her compliance was palpable; he loved this newfound access and submission on display before him.
As his tongue worked tirelessly at her intimate flesh, a change occurred within Liz's demeanor. It started subtly - an initial resistance that gave way to the pleasure now undeniable and unrelenting under Winston’s ministrations. Despite it being an act so taboo just hours before, Liz now found herself becoming more pliable under these relentless sensual attacks.
The air thick with unspoken power dynamics now held a silent pact; Winston claimed dominance over her, while Liz seemed irreversibly drawn into submission under his primal desires. Her hand continued holding open the gateway to her most personal of places, while Winston took his time enjoying this newfound relationship between them.
As Liz settled into her new position, sitting on the floor with her back against the couch for support and stability. Her legs splayed out to either side in an open invitation that left no doubt as far intentions were concerned - they seemed rooted firmly on the primal desires coursing through them at this point.
Winston, sensing no hesitation or resistance from his willing partner now threw himself wholeheartedly at this task. His tongue worked feverishly between her legs exploring each crevice available - none went untouched under his diligent ministrations.
The initial focus had been the tight asshole, an area often overlooked yet ripe with sensitivity for those brave enough (or perhaps driven by circumstances such as these) to explore its depths thoroughly. And so, Winston dedicated considerable time ensuring every contour within was well-acquainted with his probing appendage.
But true masters of the art know when to shift focus and so having primed one area sufficiently he moved along her cleft homing onto its epicenter – that oh-so sensitive nub capable upon correct stimulation alone to rouse tempests throughout an otherwise composed female form.
When finally he touched down precisely upon Liz’s now-swollen clitoris sparks flew – jolts radiating outward causing muscles she wasn't aware could twitch with such force now betraying any semblance composure by shaking uncontrollably in time like leaves beset storm.
As Winston withdrew his tongue from Liz's intimate parts, she let out a cry of despair. The sudden absence of stimulation left her feeling bereft and wanting more, but the command in Winston's eyes brooked no argument. Their gazes met once again and for an instant time seemed frozen, the world around them melting away to leave only these two beings locked in a dance of primal desire and submission.
Liz, still reeling from the intense sensations Winston had stirred up within her just moments prior could feel frustration clawing at edges of consciousness. Yet in the face his commanding bark it was washed over completely as an understanding - deep within crevices normally left unexplored dawned that signaled irrevocable changes.
That moment where eyes locked she understood now without any shadow doubt what he represented - primal force driving home lessons with every fibre his dominant being, her newly acquired role. Looking down now upon Winston she indeed saw past the physical manifestation of an animal towards that deep pulsing heartbeat stirring unyieldingly within. It spoke louder in those moments than words ever could and stirred something from down low sending warmth spreading across skin - what that stirring within seemed capable to birth she knew not, though perhaps now starting see faint outline.
Winston's impatient bark broke the moment of connection. Without a shred control Liz felt body respond instinctively; she rolled stomach down and hoisted rear high. Her face buried into the carpet, unable see reaction of her canine overlord though she imagined vivid scene.
As Winston approached from behind, Liz felt the coarse hairs of his body brush against her inner thighs. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, eliciting both dread and excitement in equal measure.
Without conscious thought or control over the actions of her own body, Liz began to wiggle and sway with anticipation. It was as if she had lost all agency over her own physical responses, leaving herself vulnerable to Winston's whims. This involuntary movement of inviting him forward was undeniable - the silent plea from her own flesh that betrayed every rational argument against what they were now engaged in.
The excitement, perhaps even fear of the unknown or her body’s primal reactions took its toll. A small release from Liz's bladder let loose a slight trickle, involuntary leakage now unmistakable sign signaling full readiness to her master.
Winston’s immediate reaction - primal, guttural growl rose within his chest and released in low rumbling tone spoke volumes to both participants of what exactly had transpired here between them at this pivotal instant - the scent unmistakable sign marking subjugation complete: his dominance over her confirmed.
Now poised at point no return having asserted unchallengeable supremacy he lifted his front legs higher straddling firm roundness Liz offered up so meekly and began the final approach positioning his hardened, thickened length such that her already overflowing nether regions awaited to cradle it within slick warmth offered like haven.
As Winston's cock probed the entrance of Liz's pussy, she felt an anticipation build within her that was almost suffocating. She knew exactly what to expect - the stretching of her inner walls, the heat that would radiate from his cock as he pumped in and out relentlessly. The memory of how her body had been used before, the sensation that she couldn't escape.
And then it happened. Without pause or hesitation Winston found his mark and plunged forward, driving himself to the hilt in one swift motion. Liz's attempt at crying out was stifled as all that managed to escape her lips was a high-pitched whine, lost in the rush of sensations as Winston's full length pierced her.
Winston recognized this sound all too well, it was a familiar melody that signaled the true beginning of his dominance over her. He tensed up, hind legs tightening as he prepared to unleash the full fury of his desire upon this supple and inviting form now laid bare before him.
He began to move in earnest, the relentless pounding of his cock against her inner walls leaving no doubt as to who held power here. Liz was but a vessel, one crafted by nature for his use and now molded further under the primal instincts he embodied.
Each stroke, every slap of flesh against skin served as a stark reminder - she existed now purely to satiate Winston’s basest urges, and he had no intention of sparing any aspect her being. The whine that escaped Liz’s lips transformed into ragged gasps for breath, consumed by sensations far exceeding her limits as Winston worked tirelessly towards claiming what he felt was rightfully his.
As the onslaught continued unabated, Liz found her consciousness slipping further away. All she knew was this moment - an unending torrent of pain, pleasure and subjugation under Winston’s merciless drive. Her mind a maelstrom torn asunder by conflicting desires, rational thought long since abandoned in favor of primal submission.
The cacophony of primal sex filled the air, a symphony that was both exhilarating and degrading. Winston's grunts mingled with the slurping sounds of his cock moving through Liz's juices, punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of his balls against her pubic mound. The whining and panting, though unfamiliar to Liz's conscious mind as coming from her own lips.
In a fleeting moment of clarity, or perhaps curiosity getting the better of her detached state from reality she turned to glance upwards. Her eyes locked onto a mirror hanging on the wall in the lounge, its reflective surface capturing an image that made time stand still.
Liz was met with the sight of a woman she barely recognized, an attractive blonde who seemed so fragile and submissive. This stranger was positioned on her stomach with legs spread wide, the rear lifted high in an unmistakable gesture of surrender and invitation. The sounds that escaped her mouth, whines like those from an animal in heat.
And behind this figure loomed a dominant form - Winston, the English bulldog who seemed to be exerting control over her with relentless determination. Each movement spoke of an unyieldable passion and claim to dominance that no rational mind could ever condone or understand.
This realization slapped Liz in the face like cold water, shocking her into awareness of what exactly was happening. Shame flooded through every cell as she finally understood the full depth and depravity of her own actions.
As if this awakening was too much for Liz's fragile state, she let go of her hold on reality once more and dropped down. Her hips fell away from their raised position causing Winston’s cock, which had been fully embedded within her just moments prior to slip out of its warm confines. For a few confused and frantic strokes Winston continued pumping, though there was nothing to resist or give his motions purpose.
As Liz lay there, tears welling up in her eyes at the shocking sight she had just witnessed - a stark reflection of herself lost to primal desires, Winston gazed down at her with an expression that could almost be described as disgust. His pride wounded by this sudden rejection, the alpha dog within him refused to accept such a rebuff.
Winston's nature as an unyielding leader, accustomed only to submission and obedience from those beneath him in the hierarchy of dominance he had established with Liz, found her current behavior unacceptable. To his mind she was already conquered - a possession to be used for the purpose of siring descendants, her body primed and ready.
In Winston's primal understanding there was no concept of rejection once the signs were clear; his ownership over her had been established and sealed in their earlier interactions. Her change of heart, sparked by the shockingly clear visual confirmation from her mirror reflection - was to Winston an unforeseen and unwelcome turn of events.
As Liz lay exposed, still reeling from the realization that hit her like a ton bricks and trying to process this unexpected jolt back into some semblance of self-awareness. Her body still presented itself submissively to him even if her mind was trying desperately cling on remnants control that now seemed slipping fast beyond grasp.
Anger filled his being - a sentiment alien to canine nature yet unmistakable in the way Winston’s demeanor transformed. With calculated precision, he adjusted his stance as Liz lay beneath him now with lower hips than before.
With an unyielding determination etched in every muscle Winston took a firm grip on Liz’s hips and aligned his body expertly to hers once more. His next action happened swiftly - no pause for hesitation or quarter asked.
Driving forward with an unyielding force, Winston pierced Liz's body once more. This time not entering the already used passage but finding a new, unprepared opening in her rear - Liz’s anus.
His penetration was swift and merciless; within the span of a heartbeat, his cock had breached her defenses to three inches deep in an unyielding display dominance and claim. The pain was intense; Liz tried to let out a scream, her body betraying any rational intent by only producing the whine now synonymous with submission.
As Winston continued his assault, still fueled by anger and a desire to assert dominance over Liz's rebellious form. The friction between his raw, wide cock and her unlubed anus caused an unbearable pain with every withdrawal.
But he showed no mercy, only pausing at the entrance before ramming himself back in with increasing speed. The repeated assaults stretched Liz's anus to its limits, a pain so intense that her mind recoiled in horror.
Tears streamed down Liz's face as the agony turned to despair, her body wracked with sobs. Yet in Winston’s ears this pitiful spectacle sounded like the whines and yips of a bitch submitting to her master, consumed by pleasure rather than pain.
To Winston this new orifice felt like a dream come true. Unbeknownst to him, his brain conflating the tightness with that of a young female's vagina in heat. He had never felt such resistance before; every motion sparked an unbridled enthusiasm that grew more intense.
The machine-like motions of his hips reached a fever pitch, fueled by unbridled passion for domination over this being beneath him. Winston’s sole focus was Liz, whom he saw not as a human or his former companion but simply an entity that had rejected him - thus demanding retribution.
Winston’s primal instincts detected something new as he rammed deeper into Liz's bowels. A hard, unyielding obstruction met his thrusts: her anal sphincter struggling against invasion by foreign bodies, specifically designed to keep harm out.
A new level of resolve dawned within Winston’s mind now - no conquest would do; this time Liz had to be reminded of who held dominance, that some wounds run deeper and so he aimed at breaking the last vestiges her inner spirit held onto, tearing down walls which now seemed fragile.
The validation Winston sought from Liz was forthcoming as with a hard push the final barrier gave way. His knot found entry, igniting unrelenting pain for Liz which now became Winston's fuel - she howled. His tight scrotum blasted stream after burning hot stream, unrelenting in this last show of dominance.
The sheer volume and heat seared Liz’s bowels, further evidence to Winston that finally he had reached unshakeable authority over what was left of the human below him. For in primal terms nothing spoke louder than this brutal marking which Winston thought defined their roles for all eternity to come, a pact sealed not in blood but something much deeper.