It had been a long, exhausting day at the office. Boss wanted me to work overtime and you know how it is. If you want to eat, you do what he says.
So, I get home, disrobe and figure I’ll do a bit of light yoga before passing out. Except once I hit the floor, my body had other ideas.
And so did my large, half German, half Rott mix. He made me his bitch.
Excerpt:
He licked my face hopefully, but I found that I was too tired to even acknowledge him. Sometimes, he would join me in my yoga exercises, supervising and making sure that I wasn't hurting myself. But now he was just a pest.
“Go away, boy!” I tried to say, but it only came out as a mumble. I would have shooed him away, but my arms felt like lead and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep.
Instead of leaving me alone like I wanted, the dumb oaf began licking my face more frantically, obviously trying to wake me up. I tried to speak again, but before I could his large, slobbery tongue slipped inside my mouth.
Eww gross! I tried to spit his fat, wet tongue out of my mouth, but found that I couldn't. “Buddy, what are you doing!” It was nearly impossible to talk with my dog's tongue in my mouth.
But try as I might, I just couldn't move. It was almost like I had been drugged or something. Maybe it was just utter and total exhaustion.
Panic welled up inside of me as my dog began French kissing me. I felt his overly large, fat tongue press into my mouth and I could taste his slobber. At first, the taste really grossed me out. I mean, I had spent my entire life trying to avoid tasting my dog spit and here I was, lying on my stomach with my dog's tongue nearly down to my throat.
