Obedience Lessons

Chapter Seven

Bree casted as Santana from Glee.

P.s. We're back to Andy's POV until further notice, I'd love to hear what you think about Dylan's though ;)

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Dylan was pissing mad. I'm sure he was just like every other rich, entitled prick - he hated being inconvenienced. And I had woken him at 6:30Am, trashed his living room for a dog and pointed out that he had been fucked within an inch of his gayest dreams, all within the space of a few minutes.

His adorable wake up face, all ruffled with sleep, hair tousled and eyes crazed flushed to a violent shade of reddish purple. "Get out," He snapped at me, voice filled with venom. "Get the fuck out of my house and take Pocahontas over there with you."

I whistled low, "Man period...." Bree sniggered, not even dressing him down for the racial slur like I knew she otherwise would. When he said he'd hired a dog trainer I hadn't exactly expected to see Bree Bollins. She and I knew each other since middle school, went out a few times afterwards too. Let's just say I got my first taste of dominance from her. She could make just about anyone her bitch.

"And take the fucking dog with you, just get out!"

Bree rolled her eyes, "C'mon, let's clear out, Spotty could probably use some fresh air, the smell of bitch in here might make him horny otherwise."

I high-fived her and guided the doggy with both hands on its sides down the hall and out the doors, while Dylan muttered as he headed back upstairs. Spotty kept trying to turn out of my grip, grazing against the wall whenever I let him, poor doggy. Bree waved a finger in front of him, drawing his focus and mine. "Ease off him," she told me, then addressed the dog, "Follow,"and she waved her hand along the path the dog had to move. Amazingly, he slowly straightened and followed her movements.

"You're amazing you know that?" I told her when we got outside, back in Spotty's fenced area.

She shrugged, hands on her slim hips with an eyebrow risen, "You can stand to say it a few more times. But yeah. I know." Then she nodded back towards the house, "What the deal between you and mad Max?"

I grinned. So she'd picked up on it. Of course. Bree had a killer instinct for people, and animals I supposed. She had actually helped me figure out that I was gay. We made out so often without me grabbing her boobs that Bree had just come out and asked me if I was a boob or ass or ASS kind of guy. I'd never forget the blush that hit me just then, or the feeling of wanting to crawl under a rock and suffocate as I told her I didn't know. Instead of dumping me, Bree started to point out guys day after day. We still made out, sometimes she'd dominate me, other times she'd tease my body after arousing me with dirty scenarios with the guys on the football team, or Mr. Fletcher, our geometry teacher that had that hot nerd thing going for him. Oh God. He was hot.

She'd never pressured me. Technically, we were never even going out. She was horny. I was confused and horny. It worked.

"I don't know myself. Dylan being an ass is a norm."

"A hot piece of ass then," She waggled her eyebrows. "He fucked up the dog?" When I nodded she continued, "Yeah, figures. But he's got that wounded rich guy vibe coming off him. And he moves like a sub," She laughed, "Or maybe it's the fucking he got last night."

I was on the ground laughing when Spotty licked my face, peering down at me with the big brown eyes that made me melt. "He's a sub alright. I just wished I was more of a dom."

Bree came to stand over me, shaking her head in wonder. "We didn't stop screwing because you were gay - we stopped because there ain't space in a duo for two alphas. If you're not a dom Andy, I'm a fucking Cinderella waiting for Charming."