The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was a flash of teeth, small at first, but then it filled Amy’s vision, huge and grisly and terrifying. A howl filled the air. Panic welled up in Amy’s chest.

“No!” she shouted. She’d hoped it would sound authoritative, but it came out as a shriek. The dogs ignored her.

The blocky body of a pit bull clipped her at the knees, and she fell. Dirt rushed up to meet her but she managed to roll and keep her face up. “Stop!” she yelled.

Her first cry did no more than the first had. Corky, her Irish Setter, rolled on the ground next to her, locked in a snapping fight with the pit bull and a mean-looking ridgeback mix. She couldn’t tell who was winning. She scrambled to her feet, desperate to stop the fight, but her cries did no good.

A clap from her right grabbed her attention. It was a man, approaching the fight at a lope. “Hoo!” he shouted. The dogs turned their eyes to him, the fight momentarily forgotten. “Hyah!” He pointed to the ground to accompany his guttural shout. The ridgeback bared his teeth once more, eyeing Corky, but the strange man stepped closer. “Naaaaah,” he said in a warning tone, pointing at the ground again.

All three dogs cowered in front of him, pressing their chests to the ground while looking up. Amy couldn’t tell if they feared a blow from the stranger or they were looking for his approval. Maybe both.

“There you go,” the stranger said in a low tone, crouching down. “Much better.” His voice was as soothing as aloe. The dogs began wagging slightly. Corky licked the man’s outstretched palm. Amy was shocked; she’d never seen her setter go so quickly from angry to friendly before.

The tableaux held for a moment before the strange man held up his hand. The dogs perked up upon seeing the gesture. “All right. Wait. Calm.” The tension in the air held the dogs in rapt attention. Finally the man lowered his hand. “Ok, good dogs. Play nice.”

Wagging happily, all three of the dogs bound to their feet and trotted off in different directions. Amy kept half an eye on Corky, gratified to see him sniffing at a nearby tree instead of moving to restart the fight with the other dogs.

Amy’s rescuer caught her looking at him. “Sorry if I scared you. You looked like you needed some help.”

He sounded normal, completely unlike the gruff, gravelly voice that Amy had anticipated coming from him. His faded jeans and tan button-up shirt reminded Amy a little of the Marlboro man.

“No, not at all. I appreciate the help. Are those your dogs? I don’t think Corky hurt them, but…”

He laughed ruefully. “Them? No, my little guy is over there.” He pointed to one corner of the park, where a basset hound was nosing happily at a tennis ball on the ground. “I’d never bring dogs like that to a park. Too rowdy. Too undisciplined.”

Amy felt the burn of the remark even though she knew it to be true. The fight hadn’t been solely the fault of the other two dogs; even after a year of her owning Corky, the setter had proven too much for Amy to handle. He meant well, but he had a ton of energy and didn’t express himself well around other dogs.

“I know. I hate how crazy Corky can get sometimes, but I don’t really know what to do with him.”

“You done any training with him at all?” the man asked.

“Some. But I really don’t know much about it. He’s my first dog.”

“I get it. It’s good that you can admit it, at least. If you ever want some help, you just let me know. I’m Carl.” He extended a hand.

“You’re a dog trainer?” Amy had no trouble believing it. Carl looked like he would be at home on an Amazon river cruise.

“Among other things.” Carl reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. It was simple, white-on-black text, with his name and contact information. His occupation was listed as ‘obedience trainer.’ “Give me a call if you’d like some help. I do one free consultation first to see what kind of training is needed.”

Amy didn’t have to think about it or wait to call. She’d been trying to get Corky under control for a long time, and a skilled trainer sounded like just the thing. Corky was a lovable mess, but Carl had certainly had a way with him from moment one.

She said as much, and Carl considered. “Tell you what. I’ve actually got a little free time this afternoon. I’ll go finish my errands, drop my boy off at home, and then I’ll come over to see what we can do with Corky.”

Amy agreed. She was a little nervous about inviting a strange man over to her house, but his business card at least had a website listed; she could check it to make sure he was on the up-and-up, and if things seemed sketchy she could just cancel the meeting.

They agreed to meet in a couple of hours at Amy’s house, then parted ways. She leashed Corky up and dragged him out of the dog park, then shoved him in the back of her SUV. What she wouldn’t give to have one of those dogs who just calmly walked by its masters side. Hopefully today’s meeting could put her on that path.

It was a ten minute drive through the suburbs to her mid-century split level. The neighborhood was nice, if a little run down. Looking around, she couldn’t wait until she finally got promoted to shift manager at the bank and could move to a nicer place.

She put Corky in the backyard to bark happily at the squirrels, then sat down to check out Carl’s website. Wonder of wonders, he actually looked to be on the level. The site was very slick, loaded with positive reviews. Pictures showed him working with various species of animals—even an orca!—or just conversing with pet owners. It didn’t really give her an idea of what methods he used, but at the very least she was confident that he wasn’t a murderer or rapist. A fair starting point.

At two minutes before 4:00, a Jeep pulled up in the driveway and Carl climbed out. Amy watched him from the front window, impressed by the cool confidence he exuded with every step. No wonder pets responded to him so well.

“Carl, hi,” Amy greeted him at the door. “Thank you so much for taking the time, and on such short notice. Please, come in.”

“No problem at all.” He stepped inside his boots landing softly on the hardwood. “You happened to catch me on a light day. I’m always happy to get to know someone who needs training.”

Amy thought that was a little charming, the way he referred to disobedient dogs as ‘someone,’ almost like they were people themselves. It showed an uncommon level of respect for the animals.

“Well, I appreciate it. Corky’s just out back. How do you usually start things like this? Do you prefer a model-rival model or...”

“Someone’s been doing her research,” Carl said knowingly. Amy flushed a little. She’d been pouring over basic dog training theory for the last couple of hours to prepare. Her overeagerness clearly showed.

She was saved the bell. Or in this case, by Corky finally noticing the interloper in his house. The big setter rocketed in through the doggie door, howling loud enough to shake the cabinet doors.

Carl didn’t flinch from the rushing dog. He turned his body toward Corky and pointed at him with two fingers. “No. Down.” He gestured with the command, pointing to the floor. He didn’t shout, but his voice seemed to boom with authority.

Corky immediately shut up and laid down on the floor, sniffing at Carl’s boots. Amy was floored. “That was amazing.”

Carl’s eyes stayed on the dog. “Now he knows that what he did was wrong. But to effect change, we have to show him the correct behavior also.”

The trainer walked toward the back door and pointed to the doggie door. “Out.” Corky scrambled up and shot out the plastic flap, finally turning around once he had reached the middle of the yard.

Amy watched in fascination as Carl and Corky went through a kind of dance. Corky turned in circles and rolled on the ground, whimpering and barking by turns as he tried to determine what the trainer wanted from him. Carl never yelled, never struck the dog. Instead he spoke in that clear, commanding tone and occasionally gave Corky a treat from his pocket when the setter did something right.

“The key to receiving obedience is in the tone,” Carl explained to Amy. “It takes practice and self-confidence—and I might say, a little special something—but that’s really all there is to it. You really need to hear that tone to let your natural obedience unlock.” Treats flowed from his pocket as he took Corky through an increasingly complex chain of commands. The setter was a

“I never thought about it that way,” Amy admitted. “I always just kind of talk to Corky like he’s my friend. Which he is.”

“That’s exactly the wrong approach. You can have a kind, friendly relationship, but always be clear who does the commanding and who does the obeying.” Carl clenched a fist. “It’s a masculine thing. Masculine energy commands and feminine energy obeys.”

Amy’s hackles rose for a moment at Carl’s sudden anti-feminist pseudoscience. You just never knew where creepy insistence on traditional gender roles was going to crop up. Amy had dealt with that a lot, all through college and especially once she had gotten into the banking world. Sometimes she felt like she would strangle the next man who told her, amazed, that he’d “never seen a woman so good with numbers before” or “can’t believe that you’re able to run an entire bank branch, and a busy one, too!” As if her biology put her in danger of kowtowing to any man who haggled with her over loan terms.

She fought down the urge to confront Carl on it, though. He was here to help with her dog, and she could put up with a little boys club thinking until the job was done. “Corky’s a boy, though,” she pointed out instead.

“A boy dog,” Carl relented. “There’s a component of species as well as sex when it comes to dominance and obedience. Here, let’s see about something. Hup!”

Corky had been sitting calmly nearby, but at the final command he got up and trotted over to stand next to Amy. He looked up at her and wagged his tail gently, as if waiting. Amy’s heart melted; she remembered the first time she had seen him at the rescue, how that big shaggy red face had just overwhelmed her. This training thing might be tough and tiring, but Corky deserved to lead his best life with her, and that meant having the discipline to not get into trouble.

“Try it,” Carl ordered. “Get him to sit.”

Amy watched Carl work on this command several times. She did her best to mimic his straight-backed posture and broad shoulders. “Sit.” She held her hand out, palm up in the usual visual cue.

Corky didn’t move.

Amy tried again. “Corky. Sit.”

The setter just stood there and wagged his tail as if bemused. Amy looked to Carl for help, frustration plain on her face.

“Here. Listen to the difference.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Sit.”

His basso voice seemed to break against the very foundations of the house. Corky’s rump immediately hit the floor. Amy threw up her hands in disbelief and sank back into an armchair behind her. “That’s amazing. I don’t know how you do it.” It sounded more like a complaint than praise.

Carl smirked. “I’m a naturally dominant person. It’s just about making it known what I expect from others. Up!”

Corky shot to his feet again, a broad doggie smile on his face, as if enjoying a game. Carl held out a liver treat for the dog, who happily gobbled it up. Amy decided to give it another shot and rose from her chair, taking a deep breath of courage. It felt good to stand. Carl’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on her. She took a piece of chocolate from his hand and ate it while she steeled herself for another attempt. She was really glad that he’d come here to help her.

Before she could give her dog another command, though, Carl held up a hand. “Stay.”

Corky obediently planted his feet, waiting for the next command. Amy looked at Carl curiously as he began to move around the room. She wasn’t sure what he was up to, but it had to have been some sort of test, making sure that Corky would keep obeying even if Carl wandered or left the dog’s space. Amy didn’t want to mess up whatever his training plan was, so she decided to just wait for him to settle himself again.

Fortunately, Corky held his ground and also kept his eyes on Carl. After a moment, a satisfied Carl handed the dog a treat and patted him on the head. “Very good.” Amy opened her mouth for a chocolate. It tasted like satisfaction. Corky was doing so well.

“You have beautiful hair,” Carl mused. Amy was surprised to find him stroking the top of her head with care. “What kind of diet are you on?”

Amy paused, not sure what to make of this. It must have been some kind of test for Corky, seeing how he reacted when attention was shifted somewhere else. “Answer me,” Carl said softly.

“Nothing special,” Amy admitted. “I mean, I watch my portions and try to eat a lot of vegetables. I was vegan for all of last year as a challenge with my sister, but I’m not now.”

Carl nodded and placed a chocolate on her lips. Amy opened her mouth for the sweet. Clearly she wasn’t too concerned about what she ate, packing away treats like this.

“You clearly take good care of yourself. I noticed right away at the park how lean and strong you are. That’s important for someone like you.”

Amy bristled slightly “What do you—”

“Quiet,” Carl insisted in a low tone. Amy’s jaw snapped shut. She hoped she hadn’t offended Carl. He was so nice and he was doing so much for her. And Corky. Corky most of all.

Carl turned and started to walk out of the room without a care in the world. Amy watched him with worry for a moment. She hoped he wouldn’t just leave. “Heel,” he ordered finally.

The command broke Corky out of his stillness. He cheerfully trotted down the hallway after Carl toward the bedroom. Amy didn’t want to miss a second of the training, and she followed hot on the dog’s heels. To be honest, she also wanted to see what Carl was up to. He was so interesting.

Carl did indeed walk into the bedroom. The lavender walls were flush with light from the afternoon sun. The cream-colored comforter was tucked tightly under the mattress. Amy was careful to make the bed every morning, a ritual of cleanliness. It paid off to look presentable in times like these.

Still, Amy’s face flushed with embarrassment. A strange man alone in her room made her a little nervous. That feeling doubled when she saw Carl opening several of her drawers and nosing into the closet. Carl poked around the room with intense curiosity. He paused to give Amy a piece of chocolate. “Good,” he said simply. Amy ate it gratefully. She loved chocolate.

“What are you doing?” Amy asked. Corky mirrored her concern with a low whine in his throat.

“Quiet,” Carl ordered. Corky shut up. Amy waited for him to answer her very reasonable question. “Do you live alone, Amy?” he asked instead.

“Yeah…” She wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything.

“Why’s that?” He gestured to her driver’s license, which he had just taken from her purse and placed on her dresser along with a few other sundries. “You’re twenty-five, very attractive, not unsociable. I would have thought you’d have a husband, or at least a boyfriend.” Carl waved his hand at an 8x10 picture on the wall. It had been taken at a week-long beach vacation that Amy had taken with some grad school friends. They were standing knee-deep in the waves, laughing with their hair in the wind. Normally it evoked happy memories of friends whom she rarely got to see these days. In this moment, though, all she could see was he body in a pale blue bikini, tanned skin shining with salt and sweat, her breasts held high by the banded top. She’d lost count of how many men had found excuses to approach her on that vacation, all of them turned away disappointed.

“What does this have to do with Corky?” Amy asked, a bad feeling rising in her chest.

“Be calm.” Carl’s voice wasn’t sharp, but there was no nonsense in it. He reached out and stroked her hair. His fingers felt nice on her scalp. “Answer me.”

She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he was a good guy. She could stand to humor him. “I haven’t had a steady boyfriend in a couple years. I work at a bank, and it takes a lot of my time.”

“Bankers’ hours are supposed to be light.”

“I’m an assistant manager. It’s really involved.” She smiled, proud of herself. Getting on the management track had been a huge accomplishment for her.

“I see.” Carl reached into the top-right drawer of her dresser—her lingerie drawer—and pulled out a bra. It was a pale coral pink trimmed in white lace, one of Amy’s favorites. Carl examined it idly. “So you run things there.”

Normally Amy would have snatched the bra from his hands and given him a talking-to about invading someone’s privacy. But instead she merely held her ground, giving him room to do what he needed to do. “A little. Once I get promoted I’ll be more in charge.”

“No. Bad.” His voice lost its idle tone and became more insistent.

“B-bad?” Amy wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong.

“Being in charge is bad. No.”

“I…” Amy sputtered into silence. She was floored by his insistence. She’d always loved being in charge. She was on track to take sole charge of a major municipal bank branch before she was 30, something she was immensely proud of. How could something like that be… “Bad?”

Carl, fortunately, did not rebuke her. He reached up and ran his fingers over the back of her neck, stroking her skin with tender softness. “It’s ok, sweetie. It’s all right. Let me show you.” His hand drifted down to her chest, teasing the area between her breasts. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?” Surely she hadn’t heard him right...

A snap of Carl’s fingers caught Amy off guard. “Take your shirt off. Now.”

Amy pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it into the hamper. A chocolate brown satin bra stood out against her light tan skin. Inside it, she felt her nipples crinkle up.

“There. That’s a good girl,” Carl reassured her. “That’s very, very good.” One of his chocolate treats hovered in front of her mouth, and she lapped it up in an instant. “You’re learning. Now, pants off.”

Before she could even think to protest, Amy quickly shimmied out of her jeans, dropping them on the floor. Corky watched with amusement as she stepped away from them, left only in her matching bra and panties. Amy hoped that Carl wasn’t mad at her. If she’d known that she shouldn’t be wearing clothes, she certainly wouldn’t have been. Carl was just trying to help her.

Carl paced over to her, looking her body up and down. Amy was glad that she’d worn some of her newer underwear today. And that she’d been so diligent about her exercise schedule recently.

“Good girl,” Carl said after a long pause. “You have a wonderful body.” Amy grinned at the praise. She got hit on all the time at the bank—most places she went, really—but she seldom appreciated it like she did right now. “Very fit, compact. You would have been a great acrobat.” Amy thought that might have been the strangest compliment she’d ever received.

Carl ran his hands over her, getting a feel for her skin and her curves. Amy trembled at the touch. She had barely realized how pent up she had been until now. Her skin felt electric. She really did need to get a boyfriend.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Carl murmured, as if it were a rhetorical question. Amy nodded, her breath coming in shallow bursts. “It feels good when I touch you.” She nodded again. She wanted to speak, but she didn’t want to interrupt him. “It feels good when you obey.” Amy bit her lip, and Carl took pity on her. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she burst out.

Far from being upset, Carl stroked her hair lovingly. “Good girl. Lie down.”

He gestured to the bed, and Amy threw herself down on her back. Her pussy practically gushed as she did. She couldn’t stop grinning.

“See, Amy? You’re naturally obedient. You just need a strong man to tell you what to do. Do you undress for strange men often?”

“No,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“But it feels good to.”

“Yes.”

“Very good girl. That’s my good obedient girl. Let me see the rest of your body.”

This time she didn’t need to be told twice. She flung her panties and bra off as quickly as she good, her body thrilled to be naked in front of Carl. She knew he’d be pleased by what he saw. Her pale brown nipples reached for the ceiling.

“There you go,” he encouraged her. Playfully, he dangled the bra he was holding over her. The straps tickled her where they brushed her skin. “You’re a good, obedient little bitch, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a question. Amy giggled and nodded. “Say it,” he commanded.

“I’m an obedient little bitch!” Amy announced. That made her think about Corky, and she looked around, but the dog had apparently slipped off when Amy hadn’t been paying attention.

Carl’s pants dropped to his ankles, and his shirt quickly followed. Naked, he climbed onto the bed next to Amy. “Good.” His cock was hard, and he slowly slid the head of it up and down the slit of her pussy. “Now, you don’t normally let strangers fuck you, do you?” Amy shook her head. “You normally want some kind of say in when or how you fuck, right?” She nodded.

Carl sighed at that, and Amy let out a sigh of her own as Carl’s cock slid into her. “There’s the problem, Amy. There’s the real reason I needed to come over today. You need to learn that you’re not dominant. You’re submissive. Obedient. You don’t make decisions about your life. You need men to make them for you.” He grabbed her chin and forced her ear over to his lips. “You need me to make them for you,” he growled.

Amy tried to listen to him, to that deep, sexy voice of his, but it was so hard with the hot, hard pressure of his cock filling her up. He pistoned into her slowly, without hurry, just like he did everything. He had the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing. Of course Amy needed to do what he said. How could someone like that be wrong?

Carl flipped Amy over onto her hands and knees. She turned her head to the side to keep from suffocating in the comforter. Her ass thrust high up in the air, her pussy lips spreading open in anticipation even before Carl’s cock re-entered her. When Amy did feel that delicious heat push back into her, she whimpered high in the back of her throat.

Carl’s hands gripped at the curve of her hips, pulling her ass back into him. “That’s a good bitch. So nice and fucking tight. You love to keep yourself nice and tight, and this is why.”

“Yes,” Amy gulped. She wasn’t sure if she meant to agree with him or just encourage him to keep going. “This is what I need.”

“You don’t get a say in what you need,” Carl corrected her. “I decide how you live your life. How you fuck. What you say. What you think. I’m going to train you to be a good bitch for me.”

“Mm hmmm,” Amy managed to moan, rocking back and forth as Carl’s cock pushed at her walls. “Fuck me…”

“No,” Carl’s voice was suddenly stern. “Bad. Say please. You don’t ask for things from me, you beg for them.”

Amy’s breath rushed out of her. “Yes. Please. Please, fuck me.”

“Way ahead of you. Try something else. Beg me to train you.”

Train her? Amy’s mind tried to wrap itself around what that could mean. What would he have her do? What would this life that he was talking about look like?

Then she realized that she didn’t care. If it felt this good to carry out all of Carl’s orders, then he could train her to do whatever he wanted.

“Yes. God, please train me. Train me to be your good little bitch. Train me to fuck how you want. However you want.”

“You’ll be a great pet to me. A great servant. That nice, tight ass always ready for me. You’ll get along great with my other bitches, too.”

“Other… bitches?” Amy could barely speak. The pressure from his cock was spreading, swirling around that one precious point inside her, building.

“Other obedient little sluts like you, girls who needed a strong hand to command them. They’ll like your pussy almost as much as I do.” Carl pulled Amy up from where she lay. “Hands on the wall.”

The tone of command at the last was unmistakable. Amy shuffled forward and placed her palms on the wall over the headboard. Carl’s cock found her pussy once again. This time, though, his pace wasn’t controlled or stately. It had the burning confidence of a man with a finish line in sight. Amy barely kept her balance, using the stability of the wall to stay upright, her eyes squeezing tight against the assault. That one knot of pleasure inside her began to coalesce faster.

Carl leaned forward and grabbed Amy’s boobs. They were just big enough to fill his large hands, fingers spread to cover her whole chest. The rough skin of his palms raked her nipples, bringing them to hardness in an instant. They had always been sensitive, but this close to cumming they were almost enough to push her over by themselves. Carl used the added leverage to pull Amy back into him. The increased depth made her bite down on her lip. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

And then he was cumming. Amy sagged forward as Carl let go of her boobs and instead pushed her down into the mattress. Cum poured into her. She barely heard Carl gruffly ordering her to cum, too; she was already too far gone, her whole body twisting inside as her pussy spasmed around him.

Amy whimpered as Carl’s cock slid out of her, pulling little traces of cum out with it, along with her juices. She was so spent that she just wanted to sink into the bed, but Carl’s voice roused her. “Get up,” her commanded. Tired as she was, she obeyed.

“Good girl.” Carl snapped his fingers to get her full attention. The whip-crack sound cleared her mind. His face was hard, but not unkind. “Listen to me. Grab every suitcase and travel bag you have. Pack up all your most valuable things, anything portable. Then all your clothes, jewelry, and shoes. You won’t be coming back here.”

“Where are we going?” Amy asked, her voice full of hope.

“You’ll be coming to live with me,” Carl answered. He considered for a moment. “I wonder… Can you behave yourself outside, or do I need to put a leash on you?”

Amy sucked in an excited breath. “A leash?” She hoped that didn’t mean he thought she’d be disobedient. She definitely didn’t want to cause him that kind of stress. She wanted to make him happy.

Carl laughed when he saw the excitement on her face, banishing her worry. “A leash it is. A good girl like you definitely gets a leash.”

“Thank you!” Amy beamed. She was proud to be a good girl. Proud of the cum dripping out of her. Proud of the strong, important man that had taken ownership of her.

“Knees,” he ordered her, and she sank onto the floor in an instant. “Wait.”

Carl disappeared down the hallway for a long moment, then came back. In his hands were the leash and collar that he had come into the house with. He held out a chocolate candy for Amy and she ate it right out of his hand. Even better than the taste was the warm feeling that came with following his instructions well. While she chewed, she felt the cool nylon of the collar wrap around her neck. She beamed up at Carl and nuzzled his cock where it hung in front of her. Pungent moisture smeared a streak across her nose and cheek.

Carl held up the leash to show her. It wasn’t connected to her collar. “You’ll get your leash once you’ve packed up like a good bitch. Master wants to be out of here soon, so hurry up. And put some clothes on so people don’t make a scene.” From her closet he pulled out a halter, a pair of cutoff shorts, and some wedge heels. It was an outfit that would be suitable to cover up at the beach, but not for much else. “These will do.”

Amy nodded cheerfully and watched as Carl strode down the hallway like he owned the place. She pulled her luggage out of the hall closet and started packing things into it, starting with the heirloom silver coins that were hidden in the crawlspace and ending with her favorite dresses. Occasionally she looked up and saw Carl in the backyard playing ball with Corky. Corky barked and jumped, having a grand time with his new friend. His new owner, really, Amy thought.

Soon all of her bags were by the front door. Carl met her there, Corky trotting happily by his side.

“I’m ready to go, Master!” Amy announced. “What about Corky’s leash, though?”

Carl squeezed her boobs through the halter he’d picked out for her. They looked bigger than their modest size in the thin fabric, but perky as ever. Carl was appreciative of how they looked, along with the rest of her. Amy squirmed in delight at the attention.

“Don’t worry about Corky. He doesn’t need a leash like you do. He’s a free spirit.” Corky yipped in agreement.

“A free spirit? But… dominance, and species…?” Amy was confused. Carl had been so clear earlier.

“Why do you think you had such a hard time with him?” Carl asked as if Amy was profoundly stupid. “He’s got a wildness in him. He deserves to have a little free reign.”

Amy was more confused than ever. “Then why did you offer to train him in the first place? At the park?”

Carl laughed and patted Amy’s skirt-clad ass. “You’re such a cute little bitch. It was never about the dog.”

That made Amy smile. She’d caught Carl’s eye from the first. Instead of leashing the setter, Carl attached the leash in his hand to the collar around Amy’s neck. She sighed in contentment and hugged Carl, resting her head on his powerful chest as he led her out of her old house and toward a life that they would face together.

THE END