Wednesday, November 17, 2010

A few days later - and a genuine THANK YOU

It is several days later now - and what can I say that would let You know how much Your dog enjoyed our time together, Sir?

Simply - THANK YOU Sir: for the most fun this dog has had in months, romping about at the club and gob-smacking the hets out of their normality - and for the wonderful long soak in the hot-tub at the end of the evening: gazing up at the moon and nuzzling sleepily into my Man's shoulder whilst He relaxed and chuckled and chatted away.

THANK YOU for fucking YOUR dog - for ignoring it's whimpers and moans, for taking it on all fours like an animal, for clamping it down to the couch and driving deep and hard and merciless into it's aching hole - for grinding the cares and worries and humanity from it's body and letting it find the deep, pure, perfect inner place of surrender and submission where nothing else matters but the free - and freeing - pleasure of giving my body and mind to fulfilling YOUR desire, Your pleasure.

THANK YOU - for fucking me long and deep and so utterly and perfectly - and then for lying there, still hard within me, whilst You told the dog how much it's Man loves to see it's glossy rubber body beneath Him, and how sexy it looks (and how sexy and desirable that made it feel!).

And THANK YOU for finally making me kneel and ask for what i wanted and needed: letting me bark and beg like the dog that i am, and then making me ask in English too - so that both pup and boy could express it's need for You, so that every part of me could experience the pleasure of your meat and the gift of Your cum.

THANK YOU for being my Master SIR - Your dog loves you more than it could ever express!

A short but very very VERY sweet visit - part 2

(Part 1)

Back home, after the SWAMP event - the dog hopping from the car and waiting patiently in the darkening drive. Sir locks the car and pats a thigh: calling His dog to heel - it follows Him, obedient and eager: nose almost touching the soft drill of His uniform pants - eyes fixed on the reflected light in the shine of His dress boots. He leads it into the dusk at the secluded side of the house - stands looking down at His dog, obedient at His feet. He slowly draws down the zipper on those beautiful yellow-striped breeches - the dog gives a little growl of expectant pleasure: it's tongue already lolling from it's mouth in anticipation. At His command, it takes Him gently into it's mouth - takes the scent and the taste of Him, lets it wash over it as it waits for His command.

'Good boy - drink Your man's piss like a good dog'

Warm and salty - the dog eagerly gulps down every drop as Master struggles not to drown His dog and make it choke. The dog lets Him feel the ripple of it's tongue and the flutter of it's throat as it swallows, it whines deep in it's throat as it feels the warm flood of man-piss down into it's stomach and into it's canine soul - feeling a rippling shudder of submission deep inside it's rubber skin and the twitching drip of it's dog-cock sealed within its sheath. Eager and honoured to serve Him and take His piss - equally aware of the submission entailed in this act - knowing that it is being marked with His scent as it flows into its body and drips from its beard....

It feels a deep need to drink until it is saturated in His piss - until it seeps from its pores and it smells only of Him...  But finally He is done - pats the dog's head as it licks its lips and wags its tail at having pleased Him - He rezips His fly, and once more calls the dog to heal as He strides on into the house itself.

Into the warmth of the lounge and a little time to relax; Master lies back into the sofa with His long legs stretched out and His dog at His heals - it's glossy head resting on His thigh, paws wrapped around His one boot, idly stroking. He talks quietly to it: news of the weeks we've been away from each other, plans for the coming months, His pleasure at seeing His dog out in public with Him. The dog quietly barks and whimpers - knows He can read it's pleasure and pride in its eyes - cocks its head into His palm as He chuckles and croons at its naturally canine state, so far now from the man it once was. He nudges its sheathed cock and tightly stretched balls with the toe of His boot - smiles as it whimpers and slowly grinds its glossy red dog-cock into the smooth shining leather: gloved paws wrapped around His leg and plugged tail wagging away.

He pulls off His uniform shirt and moves down onto the floor to be with His dog - laughs as it clambers on top of Him to cover His face in soppy licks and His belly in a slick trail of doggy pre-cum. Its eager muzzle seeks out the nape of His neck, His arm-pits, His nipples - licking and nuzzling, nipping and teasing - eagerly lost in the animal hunger of giving Him pleasure and showing its canine-excitement at the power and beauty of His body.

He lets the dog nuzzle and hump for a while - enjoying the attention of it's tongue and muzzle - then commands it to 'Leave', then 'STAY!' whilst He leaves the room to change. He comes back: bare-chested in shining rubber chaps and thigh-high waders - His meat beautiful, thick, and heavy with juices to feed His mutt... He gives the dog permission - and is almost knocked over by the force with which it dives upon Him in its hunger: driving Him down and into its throat in one seamless action that stuns both man and dog in its urgency. He grabs the dog's shoulders and head, grinds down into its muzzle - grunts at the feel of its rubbered jaw at the root of His cock, rubbing and pressing against His balls - growls at the feel of its throat around His head and half the shaft...

Dog and Man are lost in pleasure for a while - but the Master finally pulls away - moves unsteady to the door and tells the dog to follow Him; it trots along behind Him as He leads it upstairs and into the playroom - it helps Him clear the play-couch by carefully picking up the toys left there in it's mouth - then leaps up at His command and lies back so that its muzzle can become the next toy for Him to take His pleasure from...

Master is already so hard and hungry, He doesn't need much warming up before He is telling the dog to roll onto its belly and move its legs to the floor - its smooth glossy arse still filled with the tail-plug, wagging and twitching with doggy-hunger. It whimpers as He slowly works out the heavy rounded egg - and fingers the smarting open hole it leaves exposed. The dog rests its head on the bench - looks over it's shoulder to watch Him pull on a sheath and slick it with lube - wiggles and whines and goes up onto its toes to position that hole all the better for Him. It has been so long since its hole has been filled - so long since it gave itself to Him: as He pushes in it feels the stab and burn of protest - struggles to relax, to take Him - bites it' tongue so not to cry out or whimper.

He is slow but forceful - pushes Himself in as deep as He can - driving deep into His dog's hole, hard into its body. Even though it hurts, the dog finds it cannot and will not resist Him - finds the pain becomes an ache, the ache becomes heat, and the heat becomes a burning arousal. Without any conscious control, it finds its body hungrily driving back against its Master - forcing Him ever deeper. It clambers onto the couch so it can be up on all four legs - Master growls His surprised encouragement: loving that His dog wants to be fucked like the animal it is; He climbs up behind it - grabs its hips, and drives repeatedly into its hungry body - telling it that He's fucking His dog, breeding His pup, making it His - His words drive both Him and His dog even deeper into animal hunger...

The dog strains to hold their combined weight, but slowly it is forced to the couch - it's body trapped beneath Him, its cock squeezed and ground into the padded leather. It is mindless and hungry and lost to the feel of His weight, His heat, His strength - His meat deep inside it, driving it deep into pure submission. Its mind finds itself a passenger within the instinctive reality of its animal reactions as its body responds to His command without thought - as it grinds itself back in rythm to the pulse and grind of His hunger.

Driven on by the dog's surrender, Master forces it down harder - wraps His arms around it to grab the edge of the couch: squeezes the air from its body and prevents it from drawing another breath - using His weight and His strength to control it's breathing whilst He feeds from its helplessness and dependence on Him. Breathless, head spinning and lungs aching - the dog's canine awareness hovers between pleasure and pain, fear and arousal, hunger and surrender - whilst its Man drives ever deeper and harder, taking everything that is rightfully His from its body...

They reach a moment of calm - it feels Master's legs wrap and trap its own - His hands reach up to find and encircle its front paws: it is enfolded in the tender restraint of His body... still deep and hard, He holds it there in the castle of His body for a while - lets them both find their breath. After a while He releases its paws to reach up and slowly pull the dog-hood from its sweat-slick head - lets a small part of the man within to come back to the surface. It reaches for His hands again - seeking the security of His restraint, the certainty of His loving control.

His breath is hot on its neck as He leans down to tell it how He loves to see His dog like this: glossy smooth and encased in it's rubber, thighs wrapped and trapped beneath His own, the feel of it beneath Him - its hole surrendered and opened to His pleasure - HIS collar glinting and locked around its neck, and its bearded head half turned so that He can see both its look of hunger and the spreading grin of k9 delight...  His words make it groan in pleasure, grin all the more widely - and sets its hole into a twitching hunger that draws them both back into a world of simple animal passion and hunger.

But He doesn't let Himself cum - not yet.

Finally He lets the dog off the couch - has it kneel, sweat-slick and dripping at His feet, with His meat swollen and heavy held inches from its drooling tongue, its pleading eyes. He makes them both wait for a moment, savouring the need that radiates from its quivering body - it's hunger to give Him the pleasure it craves.

He tells it that He wants to hear it ask for Him: to beg to be fed. It barks up at Him: desperate, hungry, pleading. Master tells it "Good dog: but now I want to hear it in English too" - letting both the dog *and* the boy express their need for Him, their dependence and hunger and surrender to Him as Master and Handler and all. 

It is only after it has pleaded with everything that it is, that He finally lets it taste the true gift of His cum.


Monday, November 15, 2010

A short visit, but very very VERY sweet (part 1)

Sometimes you just have to stop wallowing in 'if only...' and self-pity. So when Sir texted unexpectedly on Saturday to ask if His dog was free for a few hours the next afternoon, i thought: fuck misery and pain, fuck my 'responsibilities' and excuses - and sank to my knees to beg "Yes Sir! Please Sir: fuck me!"

i knew it was only going to be a short visit - and Handler was very specific that He wanted me to arrive fully geared and ready to be on all fours as soon as i arrived (that already had the dog drooling with excitement, and quivering with obedience at His commanding tone); He had a few things to complete first, so He also ordered me to park-up in a lay-by and wait for His 'Here boy!' text before arriving at the house. i spent a very excited 15 minutes stewing in my rubber, drifting to my dog-programming hypnosis-file on the car-stereo, waiting for that text - a perfect time just letting myself drift so that the long-sleeping dog-mind in me could stir and reawaken - and leap to obey when the text came...

He opened the door in His beautiful SF Cop uniform and high, shiny boots - one look and the dog was HIS instantly and without question (or need for all that hypnosis!).

Gods but He was born to wear that uniform - and when He put on the matching cap and fur-collared leather jacket - what could the dog do but bark it's excitement to tell Him how perfect and amazing He looked - and how the dog was His for as long and as deep as He could ever wish (just please: keep the cap on! ;) )

He calmed me down - and ordered me to complete my transformation: adding my tail, putting on my hood and waiting quietly with my neck bowed and ready to accept His collar. The click of the lock that sealed me into the rubber and down into my canine-self was the most releasing sound i have heard in months: it let me know that i was now simply His dog - His rubber-pup - with no other reality, thought or responsibility until He released me again. And it just felt so *good* to be back in rubber - back as my doggy-self again: glossy and black, encased and transformed - His perverted rubber-dog once again...

i knew Sir had something fun planned - and so when He called me to the door and onto the drive, i obediently trotted out into the day-light on all fours and hopped into the car like a proper pup - eager to see where my man was taking His pup for our walk this time. We drove down into Bristol - and finally stopped by a club entrance in one of the main side-streets - which is when i was finally able to see that Sir was taking me to the SWAMP afternoon fetish event. There were a few sounds of interest from the small mixed crowd by the doorway when Handler came to the back of the car and a human dog hopped out into the street, then trotted into the club beside it's Master - proud and unconcerned, with it's tongue lolling from it's hood, it's glossy black rubber skin shining in the sun, and it's tail wagging excitedly in it's arse...! ;)

Sir had me 'Sit - stay!' by the desk whilst He went to park the car - i was a good pup, and did as i was told (even though i was also a friendly pup to the couple of people who came in whilst He was gone - although i was distracted, keeping one doggy-eye on the door, hoping He would be back...!). Everyone laughed when the dog gave Him a happy 'yip' when He did come back - paid - and led us up the stairs and into the market itself.

SWAMP is a predominantly straight, mixed BDSM/Fetish event - with a market in the afternoon, followed by a play-party in the evening. Most of the people come to the afternoon event in 'street-dress' - and so Sir raised a lot of appreciative interest having come so beautifully attired in His uniform, with a fully canine human trotting at His heals :)  We had great fun walking around, catching up with a few of Sir's friends and chatting to stall-holders - with Sir parting the crowds and the dog trotting along behind Him, avoiding being trodden on whilst also managing a few sniffs at interesting boots and giving quiet 'wuffs' to friendly people (not to say lapping up all the attention, pats and strokes); we even had a small crowd taking photos and videos when the pup was playfully growling and barking at a leather dog-hood on the JDL leather stall (owned by Sir's friends, John and David)...

We stayed for a little while - and had a wonderful long chat with two nice women who had brought their stall to the event for the first time - and who were amazed how friendly and welcoming the community was; they also made a *huge* fuss of the dog - which earned them extra points :D

It was a great afternoon - but finally Sir asked if the dog was ready to head home - and since the dog knew what *that* meant, it eagerly barked it's agreement, and trotted back down the stairs and into the street - following Him back to the car, oblivious of the looks of startled passers by, and thinking only of how it would serve Him once we got home...

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A quick update

Not been much to report again over the last while - Handler is busy and i'm swamped with work (and my back has been bad again), so we've not been able to see each other since the quick trip to Weston.

Truth to tell, we've both been so busy we've barely even managed to exchange txts...!

Still - i did pass my teaching post-grad (*more* letters after my name!), so it's not all been gloom and drudgery. And my partner and i got a parrot.... ;)

i do miss the simple comfort of just being His pup though - the open and honest pleasure of opening up to Him, body and mind; of dissolving into pup-space and being filled with only the thought of His pleasure - the joy in making Him laugh or growl or pant in pleasure. The pure and perfect completion of knowing He is enjoying my company, my service, my friendship and devotion - the delight in hearing his 'Good boy!', or the feel of His stroking hand, and knowing without words that He loves His pup as much as His pup loves Him.

The zen of being pup - and being His.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Happy Halloween

Just wanted to wish a 'Happy Samhein' to all my friends and other pagan folk - and share this amazing bit of pumpkin carving by Ruff of Ruff's Stuff.

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