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.