Monday, October 29, 2012

#PuppyPlay on 'Taboo'

I'm not sure if you noticed, but the National Geographic recently ran a rather good episode on Puppy Play as part of its  #Taboo series. It's worth having a look if you missed it:
(you can view it on YouTube here if you're watching from a mobile devise that doesn't enable embedding)

I think it's the first genuinely positive TV coverage of the scene that I've seen: the narrator seemed sympathetic, and the pup and her Mistress did a very good job of representing both the creativity and the playfulness of our play; they were also very good at emphasising that the bond between pup and Handler is one based on love and support, and made the two psychology 'Experts' look like complete idiots!

Interesting that the pup mentioned about having spent many years in the army, and feeling safe within a strongly disciplined environment. I have never been in the military, but I do feel the same as pup to my Handler: it is my obedience to Him that makes me feel free to simply be who I am.

Most of all, I loved the repeated comments that pup-play is a way for both pup and Handler to express deep love and devotion for each other, within a power relationship based on protection, devotion and exploration.

Well done ladies!

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Gear sale!! (#rubber, #Leather, #BDSM)

You know, it really is a very sad truth - but the time comes in every man's life when he realises that, gorgeous though it may be, his gear just doesn't seem to fit quite as well as it once did…

Still - I guess that's why they invented ebay.

I currently have several pieces of gear listed on - they are all small sizes (as befits a wee pup), but hopefully there will be a few younger boys or pups who might like to make some low-cost but high-quality additions to their growing collection of gear...

Aero leather jeans in superior quality, butter soft, steerhide leather. 501-style: boot cut, zip-fly and fully lined. 
Bid here.

Leather jeans in high quality, thick-grain leather. Snug-fit, zip-fly and fully lined.
Bid here.

Black leather boots. 
12" tall, with a side buckle, pull-straps and metal heel inserts.
Bid here.

High quality sailor-fronted rubber jeans from
Bid here.

High quality rubber-punk bondage jeans from 
Bid here.

High quality rubber waistcoat / T-shirt from
Bid here.

Everything is of the highest quality, and has been lovingly maintained and looked after - as you would expect from the collection of a truly devoted gear-pervert and boot-black.

International perverts: I know that the listed air-sure costs are high, but if you contact me about shipping costs before bidding (or paying) I'm sure we might be able to find a cheaper solution!!

Any and all profits will be recycled towards funding a choice purchase at Black Body or Mr B. whilst Sir and I are in Amsterdam for Leather Pride next week :)

Monday, October 22, 2012

No #tattoo - but a #leather #fuck-pup play-date instead

Geoff and I had been booked for another day in the tattoo chair with @JoHarrisonTa2, but she called to say she was down with the dreaded flu and had to cancel - so I suddenly found myself with a day off and no plans.

Luckily, Sir had a day off too...

I headed down after work on the Thursday evening - stopping at home just long enough to change out of my civvies and into some leather (it was going to be rubber, but it's been a while since I wore my rubber jeans and I'm ashamed to say that they seem to have shrunk in the intervening months...).

Sir was just back from a ride - stripped out of His leathers, but still in His Frank Thomas thermal one-piece under-suit. He locked on my collar and then gathered me up into a big bear hug, crushing me against His chest and nuzzling His beard into my neck as I squirmed in pleasure - as He let me down, I couldn't help but slide my paws into the back-flap of His suit to stroke the lovely furr over His arse...

Sir made a cup of tea, then led us into the office so that the pup could sit at His feet whilst we looked through the Amsterdam Leather Pride brochure He had picked up in Berlin - discussing plans for the weekend and trying to decide which of the many parties and workshops we should attend. We are of course already booked for Master Olivier and Pup Sparky's 'Puppy play 101' workshop at the Amsterdam Kink Academy!

'Puppy play 101' - Amsterdam, 3/11/12

We also had a very nice chat about the new pup that Sir has been working with, and how nicely he is opening up to his inner pup under my Man's gentle, loving guidance.

Then Sir had me trot upstairs to tidy up ready for play whilst He went to 'Change into something more suitable than this 'romper-suit''

I trot into the playroom, and my puppy-heart leaps at the sight of my Master waiting for me in full leather: His feet encased in smoothly shining Denby Boots, with His long legs sheathed in thick-grained leather chaps and His chest and torso tightly buttoned within a leather sleeveless jacket - studded wrist protectors on His arms and gloves upon His beautiful strong hands. 

Every inch of Him radiates constrained power and leathered masculinity - and I find myself breathless and speechless as the dog in me rises. My Will melts, my humanity dissolves, and my knees buckle - until I find myself back down were I belong: on all fours, tongue lolling from a suddenly grinning muzzle - with my tail wagging excitedly and my dog-cock pressing painfully against the tight restriction of my jeans. 

He grins down and gives a little gesture with His hand - and I crawl across the floor to bury my suddenly moist muzzle into Him: breathing in His heady scent and letting it sink me down into perfect and blissfully thoughtless puppy surrender.

His leather tastes as good as He smells; I can feel the differing grains beneath my tongue: butter-soft over His chest - thick and rough where the chaps stretch across His thighs (feeling the muscle and sinew moving beneath as He flexes and shifts His weight) - mirror-smooth across the toe of His boot... I trace down His leathered body - letting my surrender flow from me as I pour my devotion into Him. With single-focused submission I explore each beautiful inch of Him with an eager tongue - dimly aware of the animal sounds of excitement that escape me: the panted moans and eager whimpers that express my love for Him more than any human words ever could. 

I am His: human body and k9 soul.

His gloved hand comes to rest upon the back of my collared neck - holds me down with my muzzle pressed against the smooth grain of His boots and my butt raised high. I grunt with pleasure as the leather crop stings across my jeans - the leather-upon-leather making a beautifully sharp 'Crack!'. For a moment, I feel the warmth of my Man's gloved hand as He strokes where the crop landed - and then the crop cracks across my arse again. 





Over and over - each crack more stinging than the last, each stroke more tender. Every Crack! accompanied by my answering bark, muffled where my mouth presses against the grain of His boot leather. 

I give my body up to the transforming power of His pain; open myself to Him as He expresses the essence of BDSM in this one act of pain and pleasure, Power and compassion, dominance and love. 

Finally, the cropping stops. Sir reaches down with a gloved hand and raises my head with His fingers cupping my chin and His thumb hooked into my mouth - I stare up into His eyes and can't help but wag my tail and give Him an eager (if muffled) 'Wuff!' of thanks. He ruffles my head with His other hand - and then makes me shudder and melt as He scratches my ear and tells me 'Good boy!'

He pats my head and then tells me 'Stay!' whilst He walks over to the fuck-bench and sits down, leathered legs widely planted with a perfect 'doggy-space' between His boots. He fixes me with an appreciative stare - and then tells me 'Strip! - but leave the boots on' 

I rise to 2-legs, bend to carefully unlace my Rangers, then slowly peel the tight leather jeans and shirt from my body - I feel my Man's gaze as I turn to place my folded shirt and jeans out of the way, and then bend to re-lace my boots; I know that He is enjoying the red marks that His crop has made across my now naked arse.
I turn to stand tall with my hands clasped behind my back and head high; there is no slave-like ducking or staring at the floor when I am with my Man - He wants to see PRIDE in the boys He owns and plays with. He pats His thigh - and with a grin I fold back down onto all-fours and bound over to scoot myself into the puppy-space He has saved for me between His legs - with a chuckle He grips my now-naked flesh between the leather of His boots and thighs and squeezes the breath from me in a grunting doggy-sigh of pleasure.

He lets me nuzzle and lick along His legs -greedily eye His meat, but obediently waiting for His permission - He makes me wait, and I can see how my obedience arouses Him all the more. Whilst my mouth is busy worshipping His leather, He reaches down to buckle restraints around my wrists and ankles. I present each limb gladly - surrendering my freedom to Him. And only then does He give me the permission I have waited for.

I breathe in His scent as I hover my mouth over the end of His meat - let Him feel the heat of my breath as I brush my lips against the smooth skin of His head. I feel the hot pulse of His blood and the sweet kick of His arousal. He pushes His hips forward and I open my mouth to take Him - rippling my tongue beneath Him as I relax my jaw and slowly push my head down towards His belly. I am only half-way down when I feel the hard press of Him against the back of my throat: I let my tongue relax downwards and lift the roof of my mouth up - let myself open up for Him as the full hot length of Him slides deep into my throat. 

And then I hold myself there - let my breathing stop as I am filled with Him, and Him alone. 

Carefully, I let my throat swallow around Him, so that He can feel my inner muscles ripple tightly around His head and shaft. I am rewarded by His shuddering sigh - and the reassuring tightening of His gloved hand against the back of my head as He quietly counts His slow thrusts: 

'One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten. Good boy!'

Between His boots, my dog-cock twitches in answer to each thrust, each count - and drips a pool of precum onto the rubber mat. 

He finally lets up His assault on my throat when He can feel it constrict on the edge of choking. Then He gathers me up to sit on the bench and catch myself: head buried in His chest so that each shuddering breath is filled with His scent and the scent of His leather. I nuzzle against Him and gladly sink ever deeper with each breath.

He lets me nuzzle for a while - my puppy teeth teasing at His nipples - and then He finally has me scoot down the bench to lie on my back whilst He buckles me into the travel sling from Master U.

With the leather straps supporting my thighs and my knees pressed up to my chest, I pull a leather pillow under my shoulders and neck so that I can watch my Man; He kneels down and kisses my exposed rear puppy fuck-hole - then watches my responses intently as He pulls on a rubber glove and gently applies some numbing cream to my tender ring. His gloved fingers are firm but gentle as He probes into me - slowly circling inside me as He feels my muscles relax and open - one finger, then two, then three...  

When He is satisfied that I am fully open and ready for Him, He stands - His probing fingers are replaced by the hot, hard press of His meat - my worked hole is too slick to resist Him - and I feel myself stretching open as He slowly forces Himself down into my core.

He takes several long, slow strokes - gently easing my hole ever wider; although my ring is numbed, I can still feel the aching stretch as I struggle to take His full girth and length. He looks down at my panting body, my tensed jaw and tells me 'Don't let me hurt you boy' - and I feel myself melting away in surrender at that coded command: opening up and drawing Him deeper into me until I feel the press of His head deep inside me, and heavy press of His balls against my outer ring. 

Slowly, powerfully, He starts to rock on His booted heels - driving Himself into me; he pushes all the way down to the hilt, then slowly draws back out until I can feel the ridge of His glans against the inner ring of my hole: teasing at my muscles and stoking His own arousal. I hold myself open for Him - concentrate on my breathing so that the intensity of it will not become too much too soon. The heat and press of Him, hard within me, is intoxicating; I try to stay relaxed, but finally the feelings are too intense, too close: the dog in me takes over, and I feel my ring clench hungrily around Him - the feel of His dog gripped around Him must be too much for Him too, because He arches His back in pleasure - pushing Himself  painfully deep into me so that we both have to pant and gasp, teetering on the blissful edge of pleasure-and-pain. 

Slowly He comes back down - pulls Himself almost out again, whilst we gather our breath. Then He starts the slow stroking into my relaxed hole once again - teasing into me until we both reach that edge of gasping tension once again. 

We fall into a perfect rhythm - hilt to head, over and over - breathing in unison, the moments stretch into an eternity of pleasure as our bodies merge into one in desire and hunger, submission and control. There is no Him, there is no me - there is only US...

And then, finally, there is that familiar pressure building inside of me, welling up and flowing out from my core in rippling tides of overwhelming intensity. I feel Him swell inside of me - hear His gasped and held breath that matches my own. I know that we are both helpless now - caught in a flood of arousal that will finally burst through any semblance of control or denial. I am surrendered to Him - riding only His command - and know that He is equally surrendered now to THIS moment, this experience. 

We hang in that breathless moment for what feels an eternity, starring deep into the blackness of each other's eyes - I am dimly aware of the thick streams of energy that pulse and throb between us - and then everything is washed away as we are both carried over the edge together and into blissful oblivion.


As I lie in His arms later that night, I am bathed in the sweet musk of my own cum where He smeared it from my pumping cock and across my chest; the sweet heady smell blends perfectly with His own rich scent as He holds me safe and warm. 

His mouth is hot as He kisses the back of my collared neck, and then gently breathes the last words I hear before I slip contentedly into sleep:

'Thank you, boy - fucking you feels so good, and it makes me so proud that you give yourself so freely for my pleasure. I love my dog!'

What pup (or boy!) could ever wish to hear a better lullaby?

Friday, October 12, 2012

Northern fuck-pup (Manchester redux: 3)

Another perfect morning: waking up beside my Man within the crisp white hotel sheets of our Wanderlust (to mis-quote Ms. Mitchell)

I gave a happy puppy-rumble of pleasure which made my Man open a sleepy eye, and reach over to fondle my hair - so I snuggled over to nuzzle against His shoulder and stroke a warm hand down along His back. He gave a lovely deep growling sigh - and then quietly rolled over onto His belly, with His head on His arms: opening up His back and shoulders to my gently kneading fingers and softly smoothing palms. 

Back in the day I actually qualified in Therapeutic Holistic Massage. I never did it professionally, but some part of me still remembers the techniques; a great deal of a good massage is to do with 'feeling' the body beneath your fingers and 'reading' the body's response - gently working with the body and the breath to ease the muscles and tendons into relaxation and increased movement. As the masseur you fall into a deeply meditative state - and it can feel as relaxing for the masseur as for the one massaged. There is a childlike fascination in feeling how this muscle attaches here, a curiosity in seeking out where each body holds their tension - and a deep pleasure in feeling that tension slowly dissolve beneath your fingers... 

There was equal pleasure in feeling the heat of my Man's body beneath my Hands - the breadth of His back and the depth of His muscular frame - and my hands looked so tiny and so pale against His warm brown skin.  

I kneaded the knots from His shoulders, and the kinks from His back - then carefully climbed upon Him to sit astride His hips, and let my fingers quietly ease into a more sensual exploration of His body - caressing his back, thighs and furred arse with my hands and lips.

He rolled over then - let me bury my questing tongue into the fur of His chest as I searched out His nipples: then set to grazing them with my lips, teasing them with my tongue, nipping them with my teeth - teasing them to hardness and sensitivity until I had my Man twisting beneath me in pleasure.

With His attention focused on my tongue as it flicked at His nipples, I stroked my hands down along His richly furred abs to find His cock beautifully full and hot - His foreskin already partly pulled back to expose the slick heat of His head. I teased one wet finger under the tight skin: traced along and inside - between the skin and the ridged edge of His glans - felt the shudder of pleasure that racked through His body, and the subtle thrust of His hips as He tried to fuck Himself into my hand. With Him gently held in the arched fingers of one hand, I gently circled the other around His beautiful balls - pulling and pressing slightly so that His gentle thrusts would force them rhythmically back against His G-spot - timing the circles of my fingers and the gentle pull on His balls so that they matched the rhythm of my flicking tongue and the gentle nips of my teeth on His nipples - teasing every extremity until He could feel each part of Him connected and merged into one erotic current of pleasure.

And then I gently reached around, underneath His balls, and gently stroked His hole as well. Nips, balls, head and hole - I knew that the intensity must be almost too much for Him to bear for long - and He finally had to place a restraining hand on my own: raising His head with a grin and a regretful "
I don't think the human body is designed for such excessive levels of simultaneous stimulation, boy...!"

Sir decided to give me some payback though: with a grin He flipped me over onto my back and pinned me down to the bed - arms spread wide and legs pinned with the weight of His body - whilst He beard-rubbed me into squealing submission.

Still laughing, He told me to hop off the bed, and had me wait obediently on all fours whilst He went to explore through the 'bag of tricks' that He had brought 'just in case'. I was very good, and didn't look too disappointed when He pulled out several scenes worth of toys that we hadn't got around to playing with - and then I was too busy enjoying the beautiful padded-blindfold and muzzle that He fastened around my head.

The blindfold pressed gently against my eyes whilst the muzzle cupped my jaw and filled my mouth - the soft leather-scented darkness filled my senses and quietened my mind, and I found myself opening into that wonderful stillness of submission that only bondage can bring. He let me suck on the leather gag whilst He played with my exposed nipples with gauntleted hands - obviously enjoying my muffled groans and blind-questing head. The He released my mouth from the gag and replaced it with His own leather-gloved fingers - stuffing them into my eager mouth to let me hungrily suck and lick and breathe in their heady scent.

Then He told me to 'Speak!' and I had us both choking with laughter at my somewhat muffled growl of "Vegetarian Sausages!"


Sir finally had the pup make some tea, whilst He turned on the radio - which is when we realised that we'd been playing for hours, and were probably late for the loosely arranged meeting with my parents for the planned 'wallet swap' in the Ikea half way between Manchester and Liverpool (which was indeed true - as I found when I turned on my phone and found yet more increasingly grumpy messages from my Dad wondering where we were...). 

Late as we were, it was a quick hop into the shower (with Sir only then noticing that the shower door had a hole bored through it for a handle - which would have made for a very interesting 'Glory hole' had we had the time to explore it), then a frantic pack and checking-out - whilst I phoned my Dad and made apologies - blaming our delay on difficulties in getting the car out from the multi-storey car-park without our ticket, which was still in Sir's wallet (as it happened, when the Security guard heard our tale of woe he was very sweet and let us out without paying!).

We got to Ikea before Mum and Dad, so we sat in the car park and learnt a few of the songs for Sir's next concert with 'Sing Out Bristol'. There were quite a few old favourites on the CD, and it is always such a pleasure to hear His wonderful tenor voice - and both of us where making quite a fool of ourselves singing along and practising the 'Choral-ography' hand movements when my parents finally drew up.

We hadn't had a proper chance to say goodbye the night before - what with the heavy rain keeping us in our respective cars - so it was really nice to be able to see them both for a proper farewell. I should have thought to take a photo of us all together, because they both looked so sweet with my Man towering over them. I also got to share a conspirational grin with my Man when my Dad commented on my leathers and Sam-Browne - and Sir's full leather uniform - saying how smart we looked, but how it also made him feel slightly nervous... But best of all was my Mum's gently restraining hand on my Dad's shoulder and her quietly diplomatic "Don't ask, dear..." when he noticed my padlocked collar and dog-tag (my Mum is very cool and knows most of my kinks, but my Dad is still just a wee bit too 'Catholic' to be told about most of what goes on in my life. What they don't know, they can't worry - or pray - about...)

Wallet-swap complete, it was then handshakes from my Dad and hugs from my Mum, and a genuine 'Thank you!' from them both to my Man 'for bringing David up to see us' - and then it was time to be heading off home.

It was an uncharacteristically smooth drive down the M6 home - but that meant we had lots of time to chat about the weekend and to write some notes for this blog on my iPad as we drove. 

Sir was yawning much of the way back, which made me feel guilty knowing that He was working late that night - guilty and sympathetic, since I was also going on with Geoff to a late night party in Goring for a friend's 40th birthday. We promised to keep each other awake though - which we did by spending the night giggling and grinning over sneaky texts and reminders to each other of what an amazing time we had had - and how much fun it is to be Man and hound.

Manchester Redux:

Wednesday, October 03, 2012

Northern fuck-pup (Manchester redux: 2)

They say that 'The Sleep of the just' is peaceful - but it is nothing next to 'The Sleep of the just-cum'

I woke slowly - drifting into awareness with my Man's arms still around me: cradling my head on His arm and protecting me with His strength and His warmth. I lay for a while, simply allowing that protective warmth to soak into me - drifting in unthinking pleasure - until I felt my Man move, and knew that He was also awake.

With a grin and a small happy growl, I turned in His arms so that I could bury my muzzle in His furred chest - wiggling my puppy butt and nibbling into His fur to find the tender little nubs of His nipples... I felt His hand gently stroke the back of my head, and took His unspoken command to gently lick each nub of flesh until they hardened, then gently worked them with my lips and mouth. His hand tightening on my head let me know how much pleasure my attentions were giving Him - and encouraged me to nip and lick and suck all the more - my tail wagging and my hardening puppy-cock bumping against His belly as I let myself become caught up in the pleasure of serving Him.

Sir turned me on my side then - holding me in His arms as He had done the night before; I could feel Him, hard and hot and pressed against the already tender ring of my hole. I couldn't help but wiggle backwards against Him: subtly moving my hips and twitching my muscles to guide Him into me.

He was gentle - careful of my already abused hole. He let me slowly take Him - easing Himself in and letting me move beneath and around Him to find a comfortable angle that would let Him deep into my core.  

He was equally gentle in quietly fucking me down into breathless surrender - long and slow and deep and full - until I was clinging to His embracing arms, shaking and sobbing my love for Him: my Man, my Master, my Lover, my Friend.

And then He had me roll onto my belly and lie still - feeling as He carefully filled His sheath with warm piss, so that it swelled within me and made me grunt and squirm with perverted pleasure at being His piggy-pup: filled with rubber and His piss.


And then it was time to drag ourselves from the bed and off to the coast to visit my Parents...!

With all the humping and pissing, we'd missed breakfast - so when we passed a huge Ikea outlet Sir decided we should make a small stop to see if we could find something suitable in their cafe.

We didn't do badly - with some mushroom pancakes and a warmed pastry cheese-twist each; but it was worth the stop just to be asked by one of the serving staff  'Is it a special day, for you to be dressed like that?' (i.e. both in our leathers and Sir in His stetson) and to reply 'No - this is just normal everyday wear for us...' with a grin. To which the poor guy answered 'You look amazing. I'm from Transylvania  and we don't get people looking like you do very much...'

We also managed to terrify most of the straight men in the 'Family area' - but that could have been from the way that we letched after a very tall and muscular skinheaded guy, sat with his 'girlfriend' on a table opposite - and the way that we openly discussed how good he would look dressed in rubber and boots... :D

Once we got to the coast, Sir dropped me off at my parent's and then headed off for a planned day of exploring. My Mum was really disappointed not to meet 'the lovely Man who we've heard so much about' - and met me at the door with 'Oh - where's Nigel? I thought I was going to get to meet him' - so I had to text and ask if He wouldn't mind coming back and being fussed over...

Now, I'm small, but my mum is tiny - and it was just wonderful to hear her greet Him at the door with a delightfully Lancashire accented 'Oooh! aren't you TALL!'. I couldn't help but grin when I heard my Man's beautifully open answering laugh in return - or smile to see how He had to duck under the door frame.

In true Northern style, Mum plied us both with copious tea - and then I had to blush as she insisted on showed Sir her bookcase filled with all the family photos (poor Sir - I think He lost track of who was who after my 3rd sister and the 5th grand-child). She also gave us the tour of their small garden - pointing out the multiple feeding stations they have for the local red squirrels - and made us ooh! and ahh! over their new laminate flooring. But then she took pity on us spending the whole day indoors, and suggested that we go for a bit of a walk out to the dunes and the sea.

Mum may be small, but she's got legs on her - and she easily managed to out-pace us both as she strode along, chatting away about how they hadn't even realised that they were only a few minutes walk from one of the largest dune networks in Europe when they bought the house. There are miles upon miles of empty beach and amazingly beautiful wild dunes - and the views across the estuary where just incredible with a wind farm silhouetted against the wind-swept sky. Mum walked us for miles though, and both of us were quite breathless by the time we got back.

My Dad had been called into Liverpool for an eye appointment, so I hadn't expected to see him - but he called shortly after we got back from our walk to say that he would be back home within the half-hour. He also met Sir with a handshake and a 'Gosh - You're tall!' - and then proceeded to be thoroughly 'Dad'-like by boring us all with talk about cars and sport and other 'Manly' things.  Sir was a perfect gentleman, of course, and even managed to look interested when Dad brought out his 'Excel spreadsheet of the MPG of every car that I have ever owned' (I kid you not!). The embarrassment only got worse after Dad realised that Sir has medical training, though, and he insisted on telling Him about his various illnesses and operations: from his double-bypass and gall-stones to a very embarrassing story about 'having my willy re-plumbed'. 

Mum and I drew the line at letting Dad strip off to show Sir his scars, however...!

Dad offered to take us for a meal, but I thought that 5 hours of my parents was more than enough for anyone, and so I leapt in to say we had to get back to Manchester to meet friends. Dad insisted on escorting us over to Crosby to see Anthony Gormley's 'Another place', though - known locally as 'The iron men'. It was raining again, so we couldn't get out to walk amongst the iron figures, moulded from Anthony's own body - but the dramatic skies did make for a beautiful sight.

It was a long drive back to Manchester - and I think that I must have apologised a dozen times for making my poor man suffer such parental domesticity. He laughed and said that it had been an 'interesting' experience - and that He thought my Mum was really sweet.

Unfortunately, Sir couldn't find His wallet when we got back to the car park in Manchester - and we realised that He musty have left it on my Mum's kitchen table...!

I got my mobile out to call home and ask - only to find that I had left it on silent, and so we had missed a dozen calls and messages, and that my voice-mail was full of increasingly frantic messages from my Dad to say that they had found Sir's wallet, and panicking that we were heading back down to Bristol without it..!

Dad was very kind, and offered to drive out to meet us half-way - but we were both hungry and exhausted by then, and so we decided that it would be easier to pick up the offending article on our way home next day - and to find something to eat and then retire instead. It might equally have just been that neither of us could face any more of my Dad's 'fascinating' stories so soon...

We strolled through Manchester Central looking for somewhere to eat, and settled on Giorgios for a beautifully simple Italian supper of fresh bruschetta, pasta, pesto and a green salad, followed by an ice-cream and espresso affogato - and then it was a quiet stroll back to the hotel for a sneaky hot chocolate.

Both of us were a little shattered after our exciting day, so Sir held me tight to stop my wicked puppy-butt from wiggling, and then it was snuggles and drifting off to sleep with my Man. 


Manchester Redux:

Monday, October 01, 2012

Northern fuck-pup (Manchester redux: 1)

My parents moved back up North a few years back. Whilst I try to get up to see them as often as I can, sorting boarding for the parrot is difficult (and we can't take her with us!), so it has been quite a while since I last went to see them. 

After repeated 'hints' from my Mum I was forced to start planning a lonely solo trip up before the winter sets in (leaving Geoff at home to parrot-sit), but then Sir mentioned that He would love to repeat our Trip up to Manchester and that He would be very happy to combine that with dropping His pup over for a 'family day' whilst He explored the North Western coast.


My, but He looked beautiful when He turned up at the door in leather 'Tom's Men' uniform shirt and white-striped pants, His beautiful Derby boots mirror-shined and teamed with a 2 inch leather belt and sam-browne - and all topped off with a leather Stetson and mirror shades. 


I nearly fell down the stairs in my eagerness to hug Him - knowing my grin was ear-to-ear and fit to light the entire house...

Sir sat in the lounge for a quick cup of tea and a catch-up chat with Geoff whilst I finished my packing - then I trotted Him up into our Temple-space to show him my new piano, and to play the little bit of "how much is that doggie in the window" that I had been carefully learning for him over the previous couple of days... :)

The weekend  forecast was for yet more wet weather, so Sir decided that we'd drive rather than take the bike. It was certainly warmer than the ride would have been, and made for a very companionable and enjoyable drive up country - with the dog's paw resting on its Man's leathered thigh all the way. 

We made a quick stop at the Trentham Estate for a warming lunchtime snack of 'two soups!' (which we then ate outside on the decking - just about the only ones foolish enough to brave the cold damp wind), but the M6 was closed when we were ready to head out again, so we powered up 'Bruce' (my Aussie-voiced sat-nav) and made a very pleasant A-road detour through the beautiful Cheshire countryside instead - including a very enjoyable unplanned stop at Jodrell Bank for a lovely afternoon tea (served from a lovely old enamel teapot tea, and consumed whilst eyeing up the very cute red bearded guy on the sales desk). We tried to take some photos of the dish itself, but unfortunately their decking was closed due to the bad weather, and I wasn't able to get a good shot from inside because the glass doors created too many reflections...

It was a long journey, but we got to Manchester and the hotel eventually; we checked in, dragged our bags up to the room, and then the pup put the kettle on for tea - then turned to find its Man stood watching me with that look from under His Stetson. 

I was on my knees and covering His leather - and then His hardening meat - in wet puppy-licks before either of us really knew what had happened...


I lost myself in the blissfully timeless pleasure of the feel of Him against my tongue and in my mouth, but eventually Sir had me climb up onto 2-legs to help Him out of His boots and jeans - then He ordered the dog to 'Strip!' whist He pulled His boots and leather sleeveless waistcoat back on. 

With His dog bollock naked, vulnerable and booted, Sir ordered me to hop up onto the edge of the bed and to wait properly on all fours - my hungry hole open, exposed and waiting.

Hungry though I was for Him, I couldn't help but make small whimpering noises as He pressed up against my long-unused hole: cold and slick with lube, and twitching at the feel of His hard heat pressing and pulsing and demanding to be let in... but deep breaths and careful, slow wriggling gyrations of the pups hips slowly let me take Him. He was considerate and careful: told me to take my time and ease Him in - but He became more focused on His own pleasure once He could feel the pup's hole relaxing and opening up around Him - and soon the pup was gasping and pushing back against His hot body as He mercilessly ploughed into my now eager hole: bracing His arms against my shoulders so that He could drive himself so deep into me that I was soon shaking with the effort - and He had to cover my mouth with His hand.

When the pups howling and gasping got too much, Sir guided my belly down onto the bed, then curled me over on my side: spooned with Him still inside me. He let us both catch our breath - but the feel of Him within me soon had my naughty wriggling puppy arse getting us both into trouble once more: with my leg thrown over His hip and my arms braced against the bed as the dog in me tried to skewer itself onto its man.

But finally, Sir stroked my belly and my head: gentled and calmed me so that we could both drift into a wonderfully warm and comfortable sleep - the dog curled safe in His Man's arms.

We were both hungry when we woke, and so decided to pull on our leathers and head out to the Chinese quarter to forage for food.

It was getting late, and the first Chinese buffet we tried told us '40 minites, then we closing!' - and despite the tiny maĆ®tre-de giving me a very sweet personal guided-tour of their very limited Veggie offering (holding my hand with a "Follow me, Darling: this veggie, and this..." whilst pointing at some very dry-looking mushrooms and some overcooked rice...) we decided to try our luck elsewhere.

I'm glad that we did, because we ended up at 'The Great Wall' which had a separate menu for vegetarians - including veggie dim-sum (which I've not had since my Uni days in London). We ended up with a wonderful banquet of two different kinds of veggie dim-sum, gluten honey and lemon "chicken", sweet and sour tofu, dry-fried aubergine and egg-fried rice. Doggie-paw licking good.

Then, sated, we walked back to our hotel through the gay quarter and Canal Street (although we spent more time admiring the lovely buildings and canal-side apartments than we did cruising!).


Back at the hotel, Sir had us hop in the shower to warm up, then pulled us both under the duvet for a blissfully sleepy snuggle.

At least, that was the plan.

I wanted to sleep: I knew that we were both tired and needed our rest. But the dog in me was having none of it. 

The heat of His beautifully furred skin against my back - the warmth of His breath against the side of my collared neck - the strength in His arms as they wrapped protectively around me... The animal deep in my core could not help but respond - and although my mind tried to say 'no!', my tail was soon a-wagging and my hips a-grinding - and then Sir was whispering into my ear: "Keep that up and you know what will happen, boy!" - which only made my tail wag all the harder!

We left the light off this time: the soft darkness of the room only emphasising the sensual intensity of His touch, the breathless growl of His voice, the animal scent and salty taste of His body.

His meat was hot and hard - His head so perfectly slick and smooth - my hole open and hungry to take Him. He fucked me on my side: held tight and safely spooned in His arms. His breath warm as He nuzzled and bit at my neck, nibbled my ear; His body so hot against mine that I felt I would melt into His skin and dissolve into His blood. 

He reached up to silence my whimpers with His hand, fed me His fingers and then gave me His forearm to lick and chew - His other hand reaching down to hold my aching balls in one strong and inescapable fist: pulling them downwards and using them to control my helpless wriggling - and edging me ever closer with the dull ache of piggy-pain...

Finally, it was too much: the pull on my balls, the heat of His body, the throbbing press of Him deep inside against my prostrate - I heard myself begging breathlessly: "Please Sir: I'm going to cum!" and His throaty "Good boy! - cum for Me, pervert dog"

Fuck, but there is no feeling that can come close to the intensity of having the cum fucked from my body like that: my cock kicking within the tight grip of His hand as my hole rhythmically milked itself around His pulsing cock. It felt as though my hole had stretched forward into my cock and that His meat had swelled within me to fill both to bursting! I arched helplessly back against Him - my body pumping thick streams into His hands as He smeared my own puppy-cum up over my chest from knees to nipples and purred His pleasure at my perversity into my ear...

When it was clear that He had milked me dry, He let me slowly calm down - riding the ebbing shudders as He gently stroked my head and told me what a good and perverted little fuck-pup I had been - emphasising His words with little pumps of His cock, still balls-deep inside me. 

Then, cradled in His arms - bathed in the heady scent and wet slick of my own cum - He let me quietly drift off into a blissful sleep...

Manchester Redux:
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