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It's a cold morning.

Outside, rain softly patters down over a grey earth; it's not quite cold enough for that rain to turn into silent snow, but still enough so that one's breath seems to almost solidify in the air in front of that person. No leaves remain on the trees; no color remains in anything; no life is present. A grey sky looks down over a grey street bordered by grey sidewalks with brown sticks of trees and bushes, and monochromatic houses.

Well, that's what it's like outside, at least.

Inside one of those houses, in a large master bedroom, there's warmth. There's the bright burgundy of painted walls, brown wood furniture, beautiful paintings and pictures; there's the warmth of two bodies underneath several layers of blankets and covers, further lifted by the soft breathing of air in vents from a heater, controlled by a thermostat set to several degrees above what it would have been set to at any other time of year; and there's life - albeit, very sleepy life - here, too. Red curtains, edged and decorated in gold, are drawn over the large window on the other side of the room; a fine and beautiful rug crosses the floor from there to the bed; and, in that bed, a brown-furred labrador pulls himself from the heavy-laden arms of tempting sleep. He yawns, and wipes at his eyes, and wags his tail a little, and then rolls over and buries his muzzle in the warm, warm neckfur of his dear mate. He breathes in that oh-so-familiar scent and smiles to himself. It's a scent that he has loved with all of his heart since the first time he woke up to it in his nose, a scent that he always dreams of and longs for whenever he's away, something that brings his heart unparalleled joy.

This mate of his is a beautiful border collie named Cooper who he has known for several years. Over the time the two have known each other, their relationship gradually grew and increased until it finally culminated in what it is today. Now, every morning is a good morning, as every night is a good night. Sure, he has a few regrets in his heart about Cooper - who doesn't, when it comes to love and relationships? - but all those he does have are small and insignificant; when it comes to more important things, he has none.

Their relationship is at its peak: each and every day is one spent in heavenly bliss and rapture. When Milo - this labrador - is with his mate, nobody else in the world exists: it's just the two of them. The actions and events of one day hold no effect or weight on those of the next; the weather is just a pretty backdrop to whatever these two choose to do; and all the troubles and problems of everyone and everything else matter about as much to them as which star in the night sky just died.

Which isn't very much.

Milo presses his nose into the soft cream fur of Cooper's neck and closes his eyes; the stirring of his tail gently rustles the covers. Against his sensitive black velvet nose, he can easily feel Cooper's smooth, steady breaths and his soft, sleepy pulse. He recalls all of the times he awoke to these sweet rhythms that to him are now as natural as the cycle of the sun in the sky, and thinks about all of the days in the future that he will wake up next to those.

He lost count every time he tried.

Milo releases another yawn. The pattering of rain on the window, his mate's heartbeat, the hum of their house's heater... everything all ties together to mold this morning into perfection. Cooper's ears flick and one of his legs suddenly gives a kick against Milo's leg; what could he be dreaming about? The labrador places a few soft licks in that patch of fur and smiles to himself - then, he waits for another sign of that dream, and licks his lips.

"I can give you a good dream," he murrs, and rolls Cooper onto his back. He slips down the collie's body and pulls the covers with him; light from the nearby window now shines on a fine nude body. Milo runs his fingers through the patterns of fur, from Cooper's upper to lower chest, and then his belly, his abdomen - the muscles of which stand out against his otherwise mostly-flat fur in semi-hard ridges - and, then, below his belly button... the labrador props his head up on his paw, supported by his elbow resting on the bed, and licks his lips again. He runs one finger over the tip of Cooper's sheath; it softly tugs on the lip when he pulls it past, revealing a glistening pink point of flesh. He keeps on going, pressing down slightly; the pad of that finger traces down over the rest of the collie's sheath - at one point passing over his hidden knot, which urges that pink tip to emerge just a little - and from there, down the ridge of loose furred skin that ran from the bottom of his sheath to his sack. Milo circles his finger around each of the two orbs there and then encloses his whole paw around them; he tugs and squeezes, which pulls the collie's sheath back a little further and shows that much more of his meat.

Milo readjusts his position to be more comfortable and moves his paw back up. He takes the end of Cooper's soft-furred sheath in his thumb and forefinger and pulls it back a little; above him, his mate gives a gentle grunt and lifts his hips. In response to this, Milo moves his paw down to where he can easily feel the hot, hard flesh beneath just-as-hot skin, where the slightest squeeze or stroke would cause Cooper's cock to slide out even further.

So, that's what he does: he both squeezes and pulls back right there and moves back as Cooper bucks and his cock reveals itself against the fur of his lower belly. Milo tugs again and then moves his paw back up to pull his mate's sheath back beyond his knot, pulsing and twitching. He slides back up next to his body and runs the pad of a single finger down that pink length: he feels the blunted tip, the point of bone underneath; the different webbings of veins along the shaft that would become more visible over time; the swell along his length that dips into a thinner section, and from there, widens back out to fill the curves of his bulbous knot. Cooper is so pretty - especially this part of him; many times before has Milo thought dirty, dirty things about his mate, and also, many times before has he done dirty, dirty things to his dear sexy boyfriend in his sleep. He can't really explain why he did those things, or why he currently is right now also: there's just something indescribably hot about it, about doing such things while the recipient is unaware.

The labrador wraps two of his fingers around the base of Cooper's cock, around that slim section of meat between his knot and sheath, and tugs upward none to gently. Cooper's hips buck and he whines softly in his sleep; so, Milo does it again, and a third time, and a fourth. Each time, his mate moves again, makes a different noise of pleasure, and empties another spurt of pre out onto the fur of his belly and chest. He keeps that paw there and closes his other around Cooper's glistening shaft, able to feel all the little contours and veins even before he begins to stroke - his thumb and first finger run over his tip and become soaked and slickened by the precum.

He tugs on Cooper's meat another few times while increasing the speed of his other paw. He can remember one or two times in the past when he woke up on the receiving end of shenanigans like this - but not with just paws - and half-hopes that Cooper would awaken, too, to find his boyfriend tapping the thick sap of raw euphoria out of him. It sure would be nice if that ends up happening, just as it would be nice if it doesn't.

It's a win-win situation either way.

Milo once more increases his speed, and tilts Cooper's shaft towards his muzzle once the bucks and yips increase, too, in both intensity and frequency, until the collie sucks in a breath and shoots out his hot cum over Milo's dark muzzle, who laps at what he can and pants gently. His own hard cock presses into the warm sheets of the bed, but he ignores that for now; he has to take a shower.

The air of the room seems much, much colder when he stands up out of the bed: he wraps his arms around himself and head for the bathroom. The chill of late-night winter rains is magnified there in the floor tiles, the cold seeming to hover a few inches away from any surface; Milo quickens his pace to flick on the shower and then stands on the mat near there. He left the door to the bathroom open on purpose - he knows that the noise will wake Cooper up sooner or late, who will then see what was done to him while he slept and then seek revenge on whoever it was that did it.

Well. "Revenge".

Milo leans back against the wall, arms still crossed in front of his chest; His still-hard cock stands out against the chocolate fur of his lower belly, a rich tone of red in contrast to his mate's pink, just as slick and veined with past lust and eagerness. It takes all of his willpower not to do anything, what with what he just finished doing; he finds his thumb and forefinger wrapped lightly around his knot, and pulls his paw away.

No, he tells himself. That belongs to Cooper.

He steps into the shower and can feel himself instantly relax. The pouring water, this sweetly warm rainfall, massages and soothes his mind and his muscles, as it always does; he knows, though, the he would regret ever getting in once he has to get out. That's the difficulty of cold mornings - along with a million other things, of course, but this is among the greatest. That, and how his fur always dries better if he lets it air-dry, but that would require sitting out - naked - in a cold house on a cold day. If that's what he has to go through to look good for his mate, though, then why not?

The labrador runs his fingers through his fur and keeps his eyes focused on the open bathroom door for any sign of Cooper. Usually, his plans of things like this went well: it would be somewhat disappointing if his boy woke up only after his shower had been taken.

If that was to happen, Milo would just have to do something else to him, of course. It only made sense. He runs his paws down his chest, rubbing the soap into his fur; then, once more, his paw reaches his cock, and he stops there. It's so tempting to act on this drooling want in his heart, to tighten that paw and send himself over the edge, because he and his boy will certainly have some time to themselves later - but, what would be the fun in that? He gives himself two slow, deep strokes and then forces himself to pull his paw away. "Later," he murmurs, and goes back to washing his fur. "Later."

After a while, he shuts the water off and steps out into the cold air. Cooper is surely awake: while bending over to pick his towel up off the floor, he catches a bit of movement in the bed of the other room through the door. Now, it's just a game of waiting. He turns his back to the open door and bends over to towel off his legs, making sure to lift his tail -

• to help in the air-drying, of course. No other reason.

This waiting game doesn't last long, for he suddenly feels the shock of a few fingers, warm against the cold air, gently massaging and pressing against his tailhole. He jumps and casts a feigned wary look behind him.

"Good morning," Cooper murrs, and presses in a bit harder with his middle finger. "You wouldn't believe the dream I had."

"Really." Milo straightens up and turns to face his mate. In the middle of his belly, the labrador's erect shaft still makes itself noticed. "Try me."

"Well... I don't remember much of it, but I do remember a sexy chocolate lab boy who thought I was asleep playing with me." The collie cups Milo's sack in his soft-furred paw and gives a light squeeze. "You know, this is... about the third night in a row that I've had a dream like this..."

Milo breathes out a sigh undertoned by a faint whine and grits his teeth. His cock twitches against his wet fur. "Mm...?"

"Yeah. Also, each morning after, I awaken to find myself covered in my own cum with the blankets pulled away from me and you in the shower." Cooper squeezes again and moves Milo's balls around with his oh-so-warm fingers. "I'm not complaining or anything, but I'd like to know whether the sexy chocolate lab boy I fall asleep next to is the same one from those dreams."

"What if I am, hmm?" Milo places a paw in the middle of the light-toned fur of Cooper's chest. It's soft there, and warm, and somewhat crusty... "What would you do?"

"I'd certainly have to punish you." From behind his back Cooper pulls out a collar and leash, bunched up in his paw. "That is, if you really have been doing dirty things to me when you wake up."

Milo licks his lips and runs his eyes over the heavy cloth of the collar and leash. Those are two things that he has seen many, many times before. "Okay. You caught me, babe. I'm sorry - and I accept my full punishment."

"You'd better." Cooper slips the collar over his labrador's muzzle and doubles the leash in his paw, shortening its length. He tugs on it; Milo jerks forward. "Now - get on your knees. You have some cleaning to do."

Milo slowly drops to one knee, keeping his eyes focused on Cooper's; then, a paw clamps down on his shoulder and pulls him down. Tight now, Cooper is only a bit aroused: his pink tip peeks out of his sheath, just enough for Milo to faintly smell his aroma of musk, like some expensive spice, when he leans in with his tongue an inch and a half or so out. It's hard to tell where the cum had dried, but that doesn't really matter: he finds the semi-linear spurts by taste and runs his tongue up each one a few times, getting steadily lower on Cooper's belly until he laps up his sheath and tip again and again. There, the taste of dried cum mixes with that of Cooper's natural flavor into something... different and amazing. Milo focuses there, liberally moistening and then soaking his mate's sheath; underneath the caresses of his tongue and lips, he feels Cooper's cock grow and harden - which just spurs him on further.

Above him, the collie tilts his head back and lets out a smooth sigh. "Don't get too carried away," he murrs, and places a paw on Milo's head. "This is just the start of your punishment."

Milo looks up and flicks his tongue off the cocktip in front of his muzzle. In the midst of all that, he had reached a paw down and closed it around his own eager meat that, by now, had started to drool sticky pre out onto the tile floor. "I've been a very bad boy."

"You can start by taking that paw of yours off your cock and getting back to work."

He absolutely loves it to no end when his mate talks to him like that. He does as he's told, bringing his paw to his mouth and lapping off whatever juices had soaked into his fur before he turns his attention back to the almost fully-hard colliecock waiting just an inch or so in front of his sensitive nose. His mouth, lips, and tongue are all so much more sensitive to heat and touch than his calloused paws: when he dives down, he feels a thousand more tiny little veins and dips and throbs, and it's absolutely fantastic. The swell of Cooper's knot threatens to stretch his lips wide, and he knows to come back up.

"You're a good, obedient little bitch, aren't you, baby?" Cooper scritches behind Milo's ear and tugs none to kindly on his leash, jerking his head forward and pressing the labrador's cheek against his cock. "Within the next hour, I'll have you filled on both ends with my cum."

Milo closes his eyes and opens his mouth wide, paws held close to his chest as any other dog would beg for anything else.

"No, no, no."

He closes his eyes and looks up at his mate - his master. The taste of that cock is still fresh and rich on his tongue.

"Turn around."

He does as told, and as soon as his back is turned, a strong paw is placed on his shoulder and bends him over. He knows to raise his hips and rear when this happens, and also swings his tail off to the side; that strong paw traces all the way down the middle of his back, claws digging in ever-so-slightly, and takes its place once more under his tail. The cloth of the leash, with just enough slack as to let it droop, hangs over the labrador's right shoulder. He turns his head back to face his mate, once more wearing that look of false nervousness.

Cooper keeps those fingers of his always in motion, either massaging around his pucker, or just so slightly pressing in, or what seems like a hundred other things that feel just as great and that all make him want more, more, more. The collie rests his cock right next to the base of his tail; Milo can feel the moist heat seeping off of it. "Beg for it."

Milo licks his lips again and spreads his legs apart. The motion causes him to lurch backwards against a particularly well-placed finger, which slips about a centimeter and a half inside him and, in turn, makes a gasp rush in through his parted lips. "No."

"I said beg." Cooper pushes that finger in up to the middle joint and curls it up inside Milo; this makes the labrador whine and clench his paws.

"What's the point?" Milo intentionally presses back against that finger, and then unintentionally clenches when there's no more to lean back against. "No matter what I do, you'll - you'll still end up buried inside me."

Cooper takes the slack out of the leash by pulling on it, which makes Milo have to bend his head back so he doesn't choke. "I said: beg." He quickly pulls his finger out and then shoves it back in.

The labrador grunts and shoots out a string of pre onto the tile beneath him. "Please," he moans, shaft twitching and throbbing with each heartbeat. "Please. I'm so horny, hon - I want you inside me. I want you to command me and control me. I want to feel your cum fill me. I want you to tie me."

Next to that one finger, another one pushes its way in. He hasn't let up on the leash. "And, tell me: why should I do any of that?"

Milo swallows against the collar. "I've been a bad dog, and I need to be punished."

"I still don't see a good enough reason." This new finger forces its way in through tight muscles, wiggling tantalizingly as it does.

Milo has to steady his breathing and focus his mind for a moment before he can manage to speak. Oh God. "Because... because I need you to fuck me. If you don't, I'll just fuck myself on you in your sleep, like I did two days ago, and we'll have to do this all over again."

The blunt tip of Cooper's hard cock presses in next to those two fingers, which slide out as that shaft slides in; Milo shivers, against his own will, and accidentally bites a hole through the inside of his lip. "You want me to fuck you so bad?" The collie wraps the leash around his paw once more, pulling it even tighter. "I'll fuck you, then. I'll fuck you so hard that you won't want another 'punishment' for quite a while, let alone even be able to take one." His saliva-slickened shaft slips in easily past his fingers, the contours of his canid cock always changing how much Milo's tailhole has to stretch to take him. His knot rests against his rim, a formidable obstacle, but one that both of them know will eventually be conquered.

It sure as hell would take a lot of time and effort, and certainly some lubrication and stretching as well.

Each time Milo reaches to stroke himself, Cooper slaps at his paw and pulls on the leash: while this is a punishment they both enjoy, it's still punishment, and he is quite sure to make that clear. He stays buried to the knot inside his labrador, this big, living, breathing, brown-furred sex toy of his for a while longer before slowly pulling out, past the dip and then swell of his shaft, to just before his tip slides out, and then pushes back in. Milo clenches around him and hears a sharp gasp in response - this happens less and less as Cooper establishes his tempo and as Milo becomes accustomed to his girth and length. Such an intoxicating thing is the labrador's freshly-clean scent faced with the collie's rich musky aroma form so many orgasms without being washed; such an intoxicating thing is the hot flesh sliding in and out of Milo's tailhole, each time leaving another string of sweat or pre or saliva along his insides; such an intoxicating thing is the steadily growing pool of sticky cockdrool beneath the labrador, the scent of which fills his nose.

Cooper keeps his paws on his mate's sides as he fucks him, gradually but still noticeably gaining speed. He makes an effort to press his knot against his tailhole a little harder each time, and his efforts don't go unrewarded: he can almost tie Milo once the sound of their sacks slapping against each other can be heard but still doesn't. He can last a bit longer, and knows his labrador can, too, so he holds back on that; however, he still pushes in and pulls out of his no longer quite as tight tailhole with just as much fervor and intensity as if he was just about to empty his load inside him.

He tilts his head back and lets his mouth hang open, hips working fast and energetically: beneath him, Milo gasps and moans and licks his lips and drools and clenches and everything else. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more.

Just - just - just -

Cooper slams in and snarls, knot stretching Milo wide and tying him, as he throbs powerfully and spits his cum out deep inside the labrador. Milo moans and shoots his own seed out over the white tile - and ever had to use his paws. Capital punishment indeed.

"Mm." Cooper bends over him and licks at his neck; Milo tilts his head away and shivers. "You are forgiven, baby."

Milo pants heavily. "How about you go take a nap, sweetie? I'll get cleaned up..."

The collie giggles and kisses where he just licked. "Love you, sexy."

"I love you too, dear."