Tuesday, January 11, 2011

A mid week overnight stay: Friday fuck-pup


Friday morning dawned cold and drizzly - but i didn't care: i was snuggled under the duvet, safe and warm in my Man's arms!

It is always the most amazing feeling to drift awake slowly, and to feel myself wrapped in His embrace like that: the gentle strength in His arms, the warmth of His flesh, the tickling rasp of His fur against my back with the rise and fall of His chest, the dark brown of His skin against the paleness of my own (well, the bits of mine that aren't yet tattooed... ;) ).  It is such pleasure that i will often lie there quietly, ignoring the jumping eagerness of my puppy cock - eager not to wake Him so that i can enjoy that infinitely fulfilling feeling of His unspoken protection and ownership for just a little longer.

But eventually the bouncing of the puppy's cock gets too obvious for even my Handler to sleep through unawares - and He has to wrap one sleepy hand around it to silence its prodding drip against His thigh, whilst the other silences the dog's own whimpers by guiding its muzzle to gently nip and lap at His nips...

But stroking a puppy's bone tends to wake *any* pup up - and so it wasn't long before Handler found it necessary to turn its drooling muzzle to something more useful: a gentle but firm hand on its collar guiding it down the treasure trail of His belly to find the piss-proud source of its first morning drink - and the relief of His own aching bladder.

When He is satisfied, His pup then uses its piss-warmed mouth to lick and nuzzle, lap and tease His meat once more: long slow licks from root to tip, encircling the entire shaft with its long warm tongue, teasing along and under the glans, probing and flicking with the tip of its tongue as it gently grips the head with its lips - bathing Him in its slick wet spit, scented by His own piss and pre-cum - slowly, gently, irresistibly raising its Man's arousal and building Him back to that blissful edge...

Finally it's too much for Him - the dog feels Him grab hold of it's collar, feels His strong hands hold its head still as He forcefully pushes down into its throat: holding it still whilst He repeatedly fucks its face - it relaxes its throat and holds its breath: eager in its submission to the power of His suddenly unleashed hunger. He pushes deep, hard - stabbing down into the core of its self - the dogs arousal and hunger rises up to meet Him as the darkness of their intensity spirals around them both. They ride a wild sea of passion - a glistening edge between hunger and submission - feeding and being fed by the symbiotic power of each others need - on and on, down and down - until finally the alarm brings them both back into the world and they fall back onto the pillows with an exhausted laugh...

-o-o-

Things to do, jobs to be done: a relaxed slice of toast and a coffee, then a quick slap on the dog's rump to get it scampering off to get dressed, ready to head out together to pick up some parcels and drop the car in for a service...

The parcel was a new leather jacket that Handler had won on eBay: a beautiful New York Cop-style jacket with fur-collar and belt-loops - a little worn, but nothing the dog wont be able to rectify with some of its loving attention with saddle-soap and leather-conditioner... :) 

Back home, and Handler prepared His lunch for later whilst His pup once more sat at His engineer boots and lost itself in nuzzling at the leather: making the buckles at both the tops and the instep jingle with the eagerness of its exploring tongue. A gentle hand was all it took to encourage it down onto the ground so it could work its muzzle into the grain over His toes all the better: its paws cupping each boot as it poured out its love and devotion to Him through its tongue and lost track of every other human thought or emotion. Sprawling on the floor, its face buried in one boot whilst its denim arse rises to meet the other boot - its licking wet muzzle moans as the Master gently taps the boot toe against its hole, then raises the boot and firmly plants it down upon that rocking back - gently exerts a pressure as the dog is pushed down under His weight and pressed under the sole: it groans as he forces the breath from its body, shows His dominance by letting it feel the weight of His body and the force of His Will... He raises the boot again - carefully places it across His dog's neck, sandwiches it between the toe of one boot and the sole of the other: lets it feel the vice-grip of His ownership and the breathlessness of its perverse love of His boot leather. It groans and splutters in ecstasy...

Then it is suddenly released - told to 'Sit: stay!' - it waits obediently on all fours whilst its Master goes off into the bedroom - blissfully blank in its pup-state whilst its hungry ears listen to the sound of leather being pulled on... It cannot help but bark excitedly when He returns wearing the new leather jacket, His cap and long leather gauntlets - and His crotch-high Wesco boots.

He walks past the pup and part way up the stairs - looking back at His dog, obedient and waiting there in the kitchen: oblivious to its once human state or the 'normality' of its jeans and t shirt - He can see by the way its eyes watch Him and its tongue lolls from its mouth that it is once again simply His dog and that all it can think of is HIM. He walks to the top of the stairs - then slaps His thigh and gives the whistle that will bring it scampering up on all fours to meet Him.

Up in the playroom, it clings to His boots: caught between laughing and crying in the intensity of submission that seeing Him in this Leather-God like state raises - He reaches a gauntletted hand down to stroke its head and reassure it - and can feel the shivering shudder of its surrender as it ripples through its body and empties its mind.

He has it jump up onto the fuck-couch - it lies back without further command: mouth and throat ready and eyes burning with the hunger to serve Him. It whimpers at the urgency of its hunger: stoked by the creak of His jacket, the smell of the oiled leather of His boots - the touch of that gauntletted hand as it grasps the chain around its neck... its eager tongue slides down along the length of His meat as He drives down into its throat. His other hand reaches forward to grab the belt around its jeans and hold its bucking hips down onto the couch: He can feel its hard cock pressed against the tight denim prison of its jeans and hear it whine to be released. But Master rises up on His booted toes - pushes down deeper into the dog's throat - and it is soon lost in the rhythmic pounding and the blackening breathlessness of His control...

After a while He relents - one hand beneath its neck, He swings the dog up onto all fours to gasp and cough: face wet and drooling with His juices. He comes around to its side, plants a boot up on the couch beside it so that it can cling to it and Him in mindless devotion - He grabs its head in a gauntleted hand and pulls its face up to kiss it: feels it opening its mouth wide to take His tongue; He kisses it long and hard - drawing His passion from its eagerness to submit to Him, to His leather.

Sated, He releases it, orders it down onto the floor - it sinks to all fours with its face tipped up towards the glory of the black light that seeps from His body; He places a gauntleted hand over its face and it sighs its devotion to Him - He pushes each leathered finger into that eager open muzzle and glories in the way it opens wide to try to take every last digit. He moves a boot, and feels its paws reach blindly to wrap around it - it sighs when He moves to grasp its body between His strong legs: crushing it between those endless inches of boot leather whilst He gathers its head under His jacket and blinds it within the leather-and-musk scented blackness. When He lessens the clamp of His legs to let it take a breath, He can feel the helpless grind of its crotch against His heel: lost in surrender and submission, fully His boot-hound and trying to fuck itself against His boot.

He orders it to strip and it does so without taking its eyes from His - boring deep into its soul. He tells it to climb back onto the couch: that He will never hurt His pup - but that it is His, and He is going to fuck it...

It lies on its back, holds its booted legs wide with its hands under its thighs whilst He reaches for the lube and pulls on the rubber - all the while He holds its gaze from beneath the peak of His cap - lets the power of His Will continue to hold the submission and hunger He can see in its soul. He sees it wince as He pushes in - but this time He does not let up: slow, irresistible, He rides the waves of its gasped surrender and pushes it down onto the couch - strokes ever deeper and harder - pushes deeper until He can feel the soft resistance of its gut and is sure He will see the prodding bump of His own cock against its stretched abdomen...

He folds the dog's legs up underneath Him and leans over so that He can stare deep into its eyes; crushed under the weight and power of its Master, His dog can only whimper and sob its love and devotion to Him - tell Him how it is HIS: HIS dog, HIS fuck-pup: HIS, HIS, HIS

---

Both Man and dog are now slick with the sweat of passion - the dog's eyes ringed black as it reaches down to grab its Master's thighs through the boots: hungry to pull Him deeper and harder into its soul. It wraps its legs around Him and He grabs its arms and brings them up to hold around His neck: lifts it from the couch to carry it slung around Him whilst His cock is still buried deep in its hole - it arches its back, then falls forward to nuzzle under His chin, eager and whimpering and lost in the mindless ecstasy of surrendering to His passion.

He returns them to the couch - sits Himself with the dog still speared but now resting in His lap. He lies back with it astride Him and grins as it continues to grind its hole down onto Him. He wraps a hand around its dog-cock and laughs quietly at the shuddering yelp it lets out: the twitching response in its hole grips His own meat all the stronger...

Slowly, carefully, He milks the puppy's aching cock whilst it rocks and grinds and fucks itself on Him: bringing them both closer and closer to cumming. He holds himself back - watches as the pup starts to helplessly hump itself into His fist - equally fucking both its cock and its hole on Him. It gasps, whines and then starts to bark: He knows this is the sign that it is nearly ready to shoot: it looks down at Him: big pain-filled eyes that plead with Him... it finds its breathless voice to beg: "please... Sir... please..." 

With a nod He gives His permission - grabs its hips and drives Himself deep into its fuck-hole as great streams of thick dog-cum shoot over His chest and coat His fur - He feels His own meat gripped as the dog's hole ripples and milks every drop of His own precious juices in a shuddering climax of His own.

-o-o-

Sundered, Exhausted  - Complete - the dog sinks down onto its Master's chest - feels the cooling smear of its own cum amongst the thick fur.

Master reaches up to pull off His cap, then wraps His arms around the pup in tender protection - folds its head down to His chest and feels it gently kiss under His neck. It quietly pants its breathless thanks, as He softly strokes its ears - lifts His head from the couch to kiss the top of its head, the lies back and lets them both ride the warm waves of satisfaction as they slowly come back to the world.

Once more, the pup feels itself enfolded safe with its Man's arms - knows that it is protected, owned - and loved.

It knows there is no better feeling in all of the world.

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