The Winston Chronicles Chapter 2 (Liz and Winston)

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.