Playing Dog
#1 of Paul and Josh
Note that this story contains harsh bondage, pain and oral sex between two male characters who are anthropomorphic in nature. Both are consenting, but the one is slightly underage in some jurisdictions.
Constructive criticism is appreciated. This is not supposed to be Shakespeare - it's largely shameless whack-off material.
17-year-old Josh reclined on the couch and fiddled with his cellphone restlessly. He was playing a mobile version of video poker which did not involve real money; it was one of those idle electronic amusements with very little purpose beyond giving the player a few buttons to press.
He had spent a short time trying to watch TV, but despite the satellite dish providing over one hundred channels, he could not find anything that kept his attention and prevented his mind from wandering. He was presently very excited and listless - the sort of excitement that little kids feel as they try fruitlessly to fall asleep the night before Christmas, or as they are expected to sit quietly in the boarding lounge of an airport before they depart on vacation to somewhere exciting and foreign.
The deactivated satellite decoder informed Josh that it was exactly 14:37. He was reclining in an apartment which belonged to his lover and master - Paul. Paul wasn't at home presently, but Josh had access to his apartment. He didn't live in Paul's apartment as such - he lived with his parents and two sisters in a house further inland from Paul's apartment building which was right on the beach front. Despite not claiming to be a permanent resident, Josh spent far more time in the apartment building than any other visitor - most weekends, and often a good part of the week too. It was a Friday afternoon presently, and Josh had ridden his bike straight from school to Paul's apartment as was established custom on a weekend. Paul himself would normally only get home at about 16:30 from the university he studied at in town, but Josh preferred his lover's empty apartment to his own semi-chaotic house. In any case, the apartment was a shorter ride from school than from his house.
Josh was a border collie; he had fairly thick and silky black and white fur covering his entire body. A border collie's coloring can vary greatly, but it was mostly black for Josh. His muzzle and its immediate surrounds were white with a few tiny black spots here and there. His front from his lower throat, down over his chest and belly, past his groin and part the way down the inside of his thighs was also white with a few scattered black spots - the largest of which was about the size of a dime. The fur on his wrists and hands was totally white, and the same went for his ankles and feet. Finally, his medium-length bushy tail was black, with a black-spotted white part at its end.
Josh had a relatively slight build, especially compared to Paul who was a lion. He was a slim boy, and although he was only slightly below average height for his age and race (5' 3"), border collies aren't particularly common, and so he appears quite slim and short compared to more common canine races, such as wolves. He is in a similar size bracket to foxes, and most canines are quite a bit bigger. He boasts deep blue eyes - something quite common among collies.
The reason Josh was so excited was because he did not currently recline on the threshold of an ordinary weekend... Ordinarily, he'd hang out with Paul for the weekend; they'd play video games, they'd go out to eat/movies/party, they'd swim and go to the beach, they'd make love, and (increasingly more prevalent as of late) they might also spend some time doing what Paul called "playing dog." This weekend was quite different - partly because it wasn't just a weekend, but a whole nine days that both he and Josh had off their studies and work, but that is barely where the difference begins.
"Playing dog" is something that most people (if most people even know what it is) would probably refer to as BDSM - to describe it broadly, it involves rope and handcuffs and a muzzle, among other similar devices, which are worn exclusively by Josh (along with very little else). Paul holds the leash in the relationship.
After it was VERY tentatively introduced into their short love life a few short months ago at Paul's suggestion, Josh had grown to love his sessions as Paul's "dog". He loved handing over total control to a person he trusted. He loved being submissive. He loved the pure, simple form of devotion that develops between an effective master and his "pet" - and he loves being that pet.
He even started to love the pain from being "punished". At first this wasn't a dynamic in their relationship, but Josh once (unrelated to sex) described to Paul some of his weird masochistic tendencies... How he loves to poor hot candle-wax on himself. How he once owned a trickster cigarette lighter which gives the unsuspecting user a mild shock, and how he ran the battery flat using it on himself (and not simply by activating it with his thumb). How his parents and counselors once mistook him for a suicide case when he cut lines into his hands and arms with a razor blade; his motivation not born out of depression, but out of a savouring for the burning pain...
After Josh recalled these tales to Paul after a few drinks, Paul suggested adding an edgier aspect to their "playing dog", and Josh tentatively agreed. Before this, Josh was tied up and leashed in various ways, but behaved submissively of his own accord - for the pure joy of being a lowly "dog" for a kind master. After the addition of pain to their play, Paul acquired some new toys... Whips and canes. Electric training collars... Some other electrical appliances one does not buy at the pet store, nor does one see as the subject of infomercials. Paul called these things "training aids", and Josh grew to love them paradoxically through the physical discomfort and suffering they caused him. He loved the pain in and of itself - he had pure masochistic tendencies - but also enjoyed being "punished" because it reinforced the notion that he was nothing more than a worthless animal by himself, but through his master he was being molded into something else - something that his master treasured. What made the coming days special was that they would be spent almost continuously "playing dog" - it would be the first time they'd played it for more than a few hours. This session was planned to last for days continuously.
Josh's phone rang, and he jolted with anxious surprise - quickly exiting the poker application and, noting that it is Paul's number calling, quickly answered.
"Hi."
"Hey sweetie, how are you? You still up for this weekend?"
"Yeah, of course!" Josh sounded excited, but also anxious. He stammered a little.
"As long as you're sure. You can change your mind anytime you want."
"I'm sure."
"Good. We're going to have lots of fun. I just called to tell you that my last lecture was canceled, so I'm about to head home now. I should be home in about half an hour. You wanna get ready? I thought we'd start the session off before I actually step into the apartment."
Starting "the session" off was important. When they played the game, there were certain very strict rules. Most important among these was that Josh was actually supposed to behave much like a dog would, albeit one that can understand English. However, understanding English did not imply that he could speak it - he was entirely forbidden from speaking for as long as he wanted to play - he could conceivably stop the game at any time by telling his master as such in a coherent sentence - "I want to stop playing now" - but any other form of speech was a punishable offense.
He was also forbidden from wearing any clothes while they were playing the game. He could not wear anything beyond his dog collar and whatever his master chose to adorn him with, which never went beyond various types of bondage equipment.
Finally, he had to move like a dog - on all fours - unless his master gave him permission to move otherwise. He was allowed to kneel (sit-up as a dog would), but otherwise could not rise beyond all fours, and always had to move on hands and knees.
"Okay, we can do that. So I'll assume that when you arrive the session has already begun? I'll be ready by then."
"Sure. That basically means that this is our last conversation before we begin, and this game is going to be long... So if you want to ask or say anything, do it now."
"I just want to say that I love you, master. I'll be ready when you arrive."
"I love you too, sweetie. See you soon. By the way, I've bought a new whip which we can test today. Bye."
He hung up. That last line was obviously meant to increase Josh's anxious anticipation, and it worked - his heart thudded in his slim chest and he felt his stomach slip a bit.
Now that he knew his master was on his way, he leaped off the couch and went to get ready. He stripped off his T-shirt and threw it into the basket in the small laundry annex off the kitchen - he smoothed out some kinks in the silky white fur which covered his chest and flat tummy. He emptied his pockets - wallet, keys, cellphone, MP3 player, - and left the items on the kitchen counter; trusting Paul to place them where he saw fit. His shoes went into a corner of the dark laundry annex and his socks followed the T-shirt. Belt joined the shoes and jeans joined the clothes. Josh was now in his green boxers in the apartment kitchen, but he wasn't worried about peeping Toms. Paul's apartment building was much taller than any other for an appreciable distance, and they were on the sixth floor - Josh knew you couldn't see in from the ground, and he doubted very much that you could see in from windows in the distantly-neighboring three-story buildings. Not that he really cared all that much. He slipped out of his silk boxers and they joined the rest of his clothes.
He was now completely naked. He loved the feeling. One of the beaches almost adjacent to Paul's apartment building was a nudist beach, and after their relationship had progressed sufficiently, he and Paul began to spend a great deal of their time there on days when it wasn't completely clogged with boorish heterosexual men slobbering over the breasts of vixens and she-wolves - which unfortunately was most weekends during the summer when it wasn't raining.
Now in his distinctive black-and-white birthday suit, he quickly made his way to the study/random store-room which was ostensibly designed as a secondary bedroom, and which had begun to house most of the toys they used to "play dog".
A small collection of canes, crops, birches and switches stood in an umbrella pot in the corner. He had tasted most of them on his rump at one point or another. Various lengths and thicknesses of rope lay curled in a corner, along with a footlocker containing restraints such as handcuffs, leg-cuffs, muzzles, gags and spreader bars. Two whips hung from hooks in the wall, as did the collection of collars, chains and leashes. Josh had never been whipped before. The one whip was a thick, curled bullwhip, which Josh doubted his master would ever use on him, but he had used it as a psychological tool in the form of rudimentary gag for Josh while he caned him - despite the fact that he owned many more effective forms of gagging him. The other whip was a long, thin single-tail which was presumably used for whip-cracking or driving horses from a distance, because it was too long to be used effectively as a punishment tool. Josh had often wondered what it felt like to be whipped, but had never actually broached the subject with Paul before. Now it seemed as though he'd be finding out, if Paul had been telling the truth on the phone.
Josh was looking for a collar - the only item he was to put on himself. He had a good many to choose from - thick leather dog collars, choke chains, electric training collars, steel collars with sharp prongs which would dig into his neck painfully when there was tension on the leash...
He picked a thick brown leather dog collar which didn't perform any special training function such as shocking or choking - he'd let his master switch it for one of those later if he saw fit. He fitted the collar around his neck so that the metal loop for the leash was under his chin, pulling the collar quite tight so that there was no wiggle room, but not tight enough to squeeze too hard. He liked the tight feel of a collar around his neck. Next he picked a very short leash - it was less than three feet long and quite thin. Josh didn't know what it was designed for, but it was the leash that Paul made him wear most of the time - it was too short for walking a dog, one would think, but it was good for pulling Josh around and choking him during "training". Josh clipped the leash onto the buckle under his chin and left the toy room.
He permitted himself a glance at the satellite decoder - about fifteen minutes until Paul said he'd arrive. Josh began to get into character. He kneeled on the white tiles of the apartment's main living area, in front of the door, and "walked" around a bit - the leash dangling on the floor between his arms. He practiced "jumping" on and off the couches as a dog would - it's quite an effort to do as a humanoid, actually. Very anxious now for his master's imminent arrival, Josh crawled to the front door and "sat" as a dog would - his chest puffed out between his arms which were leaning straight down onto the floor, and his legs bent. It's actually a fairly difficult position for a bipedal to pull off correctly with his bum on the floor. Josh maneuvered his dangling leash into his mouth - using his right hand, but as a dog would clumsily use its paw to "push" something. He munched gently on the leather strip in his mouth and whined slightly - pining for his master now.
He was finally alerted to his master's arrival by footsteps in the quiet hallway outside. He snapped to alertness and wagged his tail - he "stood up" into a position on all fours, but kept the leash in his mouth. He was quivering with anticipation and excitement.
Paul unlocked his apartment door and entered to find Josh kneeling naked on all-fours, his leash dangling out of his mouth. He quickly shut the door behind him before addressing Josh.
"Josh! Who's a good boy! Who's daddy's boy!"
Paul beamed and talked in baby-talk for his dog. He bent over and patted his thighs to indicate that Josh should approach jubilantly, in the manner of a real dog which might jump up and lick its master's face. A bipedal couldn't do that very easily, but Josh crawled over as fast as he could - the cold hard tiles beginning to stiffen his hands and knees - whining, and happily wagging his tail. He'd be panting too, but he still gripped onto the leash in his mouth.
"Aww, did you miss daddy?"
Paul voraciously ruffled his dog's semi-floppy ears and stroked his furry flank. Josh's tail wagged so hard that it caused his entire lower body to sway from side to side. He reveled in the feel of his master's big hands on his relatively small, furry body. He leaned against the hallway wall and gradually sank down onto the floor - turning, once he got there, onto his back so that his master could rub his chest and tummy. He brought his arms up into a dog-like begging position and his curled left leg twitched - something which would have been reflexive in a quadruped, but which required conscious action on the part of Josh - he thought it would look the part.
He opened his mouth and panted as Paul rubbed his chest and sunken tummy. His tongue lolled out the side of his muzzle, as did the leash. He began to whine with the pants as one of Paul's big; furiously rubbing hands moved from his belly to his groin and began to massage his white-furred scrotum. He felt his pink penis slip out of its flaccid exterior and rapidly harden. All the while, his master continued his baby-talk monologue which Josh found more and more arousing.
"Daddy missed you. Daddy bought you a present."
With that, Paul took hold of Josh's leash and rose to his feet - giving the leash a gentle jerk to encourage Josh to rise as well. He clambered back into the awkward dog-sitting position as fast as he could - his hot, partially-erect penis brushing against cold tiles as he did so - causing him to catch his breath.
"Follow, boy." Paul punctuated this with a whistle and a jerk on the short leash. He led Josh quickly crawling into the toy room.
"Sit," Paul ordered to Josh in the middle of the room, and Josh quickly complied. His tongue lolled out the side of his muzzle and his bright eyes looked inquisitive.
Paul had been carrying a shopping bag which he now dumped on the desk in the toy room. He detached Josh's short lease and placed it back on its hook - he then removed the leather dog collar and chose a choke chain to replace it, which he installed around Josh's neck. He picked up a length of thin, but strong nylon rope from the various piles in the corner - this one had loop-hooks affixed to either end of it; one of which he attached to a loop on the choke chain. With the aid of a step-ladder he sent the other end of it through a thick hook affixed into the ceiling - the end which dangled down to the floor he attached to a wheel-pulley. Josh had been attached to this contraption before, but never by the neck. His heart thudded in his chest and his penis felt hot. He panted warmly.
Paul went to the large footlocker against one wall and rummaged in it. He returned with one of the many dog muzzles he owned - this one was a real dog muzzle which wrapped around the animals mouth with soft but tight and strong material. It did not cover the front of the muzzle, but it was impossible to open one's muzzle with it in place. It was, however, more comfortable than the modified muzzles Paul owned which incorporated a "bit" - a hard bar or leather strap which the wearer was forced to hold in their mouth and bit down upon.
Paul returned to Josh and lovingly stroked him under his chin. Josh closed his muzzle and looked up into Paul's face longingly. Paul gently installed the soft muzzle, tightening it to a restrictive but not dangerous level.
Paul then went picked up a riding crop from the umbrella stand in the corner.
"Sit up and beg for daddy, boy."
Paul tapped Josh lightly on the chest with the riding crop to emphasize his point. The order "sit up" actually meant that Josh should kneel, and "beg" meant that he should bring his arms up into a begging position under his chin. He quickly and happily complied.
Setting the crop down on the table, Paul bent down in front of Josh and fed Josh's hands through the loose choke chain so that they were on the inside of it with his neck.
"Keep your paws on the inside of the chain."
Paul then turned the handle of the pulley to which the rope was attached. Josh felt the choke chain rise up against his wrists, which in turn pressed up against his neck below his chin. The chain began to bite into his wrists painfully, and it became hard for him to breath as the choke chain closed in around his neck. He made a soft grunting noise, which would have been a gagging sound if not for the muzzle, as the chain closed around his windpipe. Paul stopped pulling just before the point where Josh's knees would have been lifted off the ground. Most of his weight was held by the rope, and his breathing was in very short and somewhat labored gasps stolen through his narrowed windpipe - his hands were jammed painfully into a begging position under his chin by the tight choke chain.
Locking the pulley into place, Paul spoke to Josh in the same babying tone.
"Daddy's got a present for you. It's a new tool which will help daddy make you a better doggy."
He then removed from the shopping bag the whip he had mentioned to Josh on the phone. It was like a bullwhip in that it had no rigid handle - the entire whip was flexible, and had been curled into a tight ball from its thick handle to its thin cracker. As Paul let it unfurl, Josh could just see that it was only about three feet long in total and was colored pitch black - he strained to see much detail as his head was bent into an awkward angle by the choke chain.
"It will hurt when I use this on you... Just like other things which make you better, like the cane and the shock collar. Normally I'll only use it when you've done something naughty or bad, but I'm going to use it on you now to show you what it's like so you know. I love you so much that I spent over $100 on it."
Josh whined slightly. His semi-excited cock hovered out of its sheath at an almost perpendicular angle to his body. Paul went and stood behind him.
Josh felt his master gently stroke him down his spine with his hand.
"There's a good boy."
Then Josh heard the soft "woosh" of the whip as it was moved quickly through the air, followed abruptly by a muffled "thwack!" accompanied by a hard impact on his lower right flank. Pain did not come immediately - the first effect of the strike was the strange feeling one associates with a substance that is either so hot it feels cold, or so cold it feels hot. Pain itself came in a burning streak moments later. It was bad, and it seemed to increase in intensity as though there was a red-hot wire applied to Josh's fur.
Josh made a small grunt of surprise in response to that first strike.
The second strike came from the other side - striking horizontally along his lower left flank. This time, the whip's cracker curved around his slim waist and struck his tummy. The pain seemed to come a bit faster this time, burning in a clean line around his left-waist. He jerked ever so slightly, but his tenuous semi-suspended position made this difficult. Again, he grunted mutely in response.
The third strike came down vertically - cutting a straight line along his spine in the middle of his back. The pain from multiple strikes was beginning to accumulate, in a way, and his entire back was beginning to feel like it was burning from being too close to a fire.
To his surprise, the next thing he felt was Paul's gentle hand caressing him behind his ears.
"Don't worry, boy. I know it feels bad, but this will make you a better doggy."
Paul sounded like a concerned parent trying to convince a small child to drink its medicine without complaining.
The fourth whip strike crossed the last one diagonally. Josh's back was becoming tenderized, and the pain from each strike was accumulating and contributing to the greater burning.
Each successive strike was worse than the last - Paul covered Josh's back in them; they criss-crossed each other. He also struck his backside and thighs once or twice, and many of the strikes curved around Josh's flanks to hit his chest and tummy. By the eighth strike, which crossed both his thighs, Josh was whimpering as best he could through his gag and tight choke-chain. By the eleventh, which cut a curved line around his flank to his belly-button, he was crying and jerking against the chain, which caused his windpipe to close and gag him. By the fifteenth strike, he jerked like a fish caught on a line from every stroke. He was dangling almost entirely by his neck, and as the pain grew, he felt he would likely suffocate.
Josh lost count, but there were twenty strikes in all. By the last one - which struck straight between his shoulder blades and caused him to jerk forward unconsciously - he was barely conscious; hanging from his leash entirely. Tears ran down his cheeks and when he could draw breath, it left him in a mournful whine through his nostrils, which were running.
Paul hung the whip on one of the hooks, and returned to Josh. He lovingly ruffled his ears while stroking his chest and belly, which were less affected by the whip than his back. It hadn't caused severe bloody cuts - like it probably felt like to Josh - but it had likely raised some bad welts and possibly broken the skin insignificantly below Josh's thick fur.
"There's a good boy. There's a good boy. Shhhh."
Paul unclicked the rope from the choke chain and Josh collapsed forward - his hands were by now totally numb, and uselessly crumpled under him as the choke chain loosed and he fell flat on his muzzle. He whimpered painfully through his closed muzzle. Tears ran down his cheeks. Paul knelt with him and removed the tight muzzle from his head. Josh's mouth hung open and he whimpered weakly.
"Such a good boy takes his conditioning so well. I'm going to reward you. Daddy's going to let you lick him right now."
Kneeling with Josh lying collapsed on the floor; Paul removed his belt and lowered his pants - revealing his thick, spiked lion-cock rock hard under his briefs.
"Such a good boy. Here's your reward. Lick it all up."
Josh slowly maneuvered his head - his neck was incredibly stiff - so that his numb muzzle was against his master's thick cock. It was already oozing pre, and still-whimpering, Josh began to weakly lick this thick, salty liquid off the beast which produced it.
"Good boy... Good boy..."
Paul reclined backwards slowly with his dog's head in his crotch. With one hand, he stroked gently behind Josh's furry ears - with the other, he stroked Josh's flank. Josh licked slowly from his master's penis, only taking it in his maw when the given the cue from the hand stroking his ears - it gently pushed him onto the huge phallus. His master continued to praise him soothingly, "Good boy, good boy..."
Tears still running from his eyes, Josh began to fellate his master with greater feeling; his small muzzle battling to enclose the huge penis without touching it with his teeth. He ran his tongue slowly along the ridges and spines on its underside, savoring the thick, salty taste of his master.
It did not take long for Paul to orgasm - pumping thick quantities of cum down Josh's esophagus. Josh carefully swallowed it all as it came, successfully avoiding the gag reflex.
Paul marked his orgasm with a soft sigh of pleasure, bringing his head back as though he were sinking into a warm bath. When it was over, Josh extricated his muzzle - careful not to spill any seed. He then licked clean his master's penis carefully. When he was finished he lay his head down on his master's thick, muscled thigh and let the drooping penis fall slowly onto his forehead. He had stopped crying - the pain was beginning to subside into a dull, burning ache across much of his torso. He lay there on the floor with his master, savoring the scent and taste of him dominating that of anything else. He felt the last traces of his master's seed slip gently down into his stomach.
"Such a good dog. You're going to be the best dog in the world."
Inside, Josh felt a deep happiness from that as he snuggled up to his master.