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I whipped around toward Tony’s voice. My gaze narrowed. Why was this my fault? I’d grabbed my hood, but he was the one who said people were going to want to talk to me in human form, seeing as it was my birthday party, and I sometimes—fine, many times—got grumpy when I had to use human words while wearing the hood.

Whatever. I crawled to him and sat back on my haunches. I didn’t lose thelook, but he couldn’t say I wasn’t obeying and shit.

It was a balance—being a brat but not taking it so far he thought I was genuinely fighting him. I could learn, when properly motivated.

Tony, of course, didn’t react—not to my scowling, and not to my perfect sitting position. He just clasped the straps of the hood at the back of my head and adjusted the neoprene under my chin. It wrinkled up sometimes and created weird bumps. It was annoying, but I didn’t want a new hood. I’d bought this one with Cece. We’d traveled to Madrid so that we could try on hoods in person. The clerk in the store had been so nice, too—and totally flirting with Cece. The hoods were the first pieces of gear we’d gotten.

I was attached to the thing now.

Tony hadn’t complained when I’d explained my reasoning. He’d clearly listened, too, since the new suit hadn’t included a new hood.

I wouldn’t have enjoyed that.

“Tilt your head up, pup.”

Huh?

I blinked. Sometimes when I got in my head, I kind of lost track of my surroundings. I could focus, though.

Ihadto focus. Tony was holding the extendable leash in his hand. No idea where he’d gotten it from. I didn’t care. I was already slipping into pupspace, so I had to prioritize.

“Woof?”

I lunged at his thighs, keeping my paws there. The mitts were extra pretty, if I said so myself. Tony had stuck to the black and yellow color scheme, and the mitts were those that had a padded yellow paw on the inside of it. It felt velvety to the touch, but I didn’t think it was velvet.

I’d stared at them for an embarrassing amount of time when he’d made me try on the suit back at home. Tony had half mocked me for it, but I’d paid him no mind.

I didn’t mind him now either as he gave me scritches. He was fucking up my hair, but that didn’t matter when I was wearing my gear. The straps already fucked it up enough on their own, and I was not going to say no to head scritches. I wrinkled my nose just imagining it.

It would be bonkers.

He clipped the leash to the O-ring of the training collar he’d gotten me for that first time in this room. The tiny metallic sound had me breathing out, taking away more of that anxiety and buzzing that seemed to follow me everywhere.

I swayed forward, the muzzle of the hood hitting his leather chaps. Fuck, his leather was always so soft. I had no idea how he did it. He said that most of it came from leathermen fairs and people who sold the pieces they weren’t using anymore or had inherited, but… still.

“You want to earn that last present?” Tony squared up his shoulders as he asked.

“Woof!” I pawed his thighs again for good measure.

No idea what was going on, but he wouldn’t be able to say shit about my enthusiasm.

I liked presents, and I didn’t like staying out of the loop. It was a somewhat dangerous combination.

“Good pup.” There were no head scritches, but I caught the way his eyes softened for just that second. I whirled around, making sure I was wagging my tail. He hadn’t moved by the time I was back where I’d started. When I let my tongue loll, he caught it, pressing his thumb to keep me there. A rush of heat had me gasping. “Are you going to show everyone how obedient you can be?”

Shit.

I didn’t mean to, but I moaned regardless. I was desperate, only half grasping at what he was saying. Tony had hinted at having am intense scene tonight. I’d been okay with it—more than, obviously—but I hadn’t asked for many details, and he hadn’t offered many more after we’d covered the basics. I didn’t have second thoughts, but… Fuck.

We’d started gradually playing harder. It meant more intense scenes: Demanding more of me as a puppy until I was building up a good sweat. Spanking me longer. Testing out his paddles.

Restraints. So many restraints.

With all the teasing about watersports, I’d been sure that was what would happen today.

It was how it went, wasn’t it? All the folks at the club talked about it. The longer one was with a D-type, the more trust built up, which meant more playtime.

This, though? Whatever it was, I already knew it would be harder than just letting him pee all over me. Or in me, since that was what he seemed to prefer.