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Rupert (by Mr Foxy Paws)

'Here we are, Frodo,' said Malcolm, drawing up outside a small terraced house. 'I'm going away to London on business, tonight, so Rupert said he'd look after you. He's one of Margaret's sons. Remember Margaret, from the coffee afternoon?' Malcolm turned around to his dalmatian pup, who was sitting in the caged boot at the back of the estate. Frodo nodded in response and then gazed out of the window towards his new home for the night. He wondered what, if any, experience Rupert had of furries.

Malcolm got out of the car, opened the boot and allowed Frodo to hop down to the ground. He picked up a hold-all from below the parcel shelf, shut the boot and led the young pup down the drive. The front door opened, even before Malcolm had a chance to ring the bell, and a young man appeared, dressed in torn jeans and a black sweatshirt.

'You must be Rupert?' asked Malcolm.

'Yeah, hi. You're Malcolm, and Frodo? I was in the bedroom and saw you through the window. Do come in.'

'I can't stop,' replied Malcolm. 'I've got to drive down to London this evening. Here's Frodo,' he said, gesturing to the pup at his feet, 'and here are some of his toys,' he added, passing the hold-all to Rupert. 'I've jotted down some notes, which I put in the side pocket.'

'No worries, Malcolm. I've had dogs before, I'm sure we'll be OK. See you tomorrow morning, then? Around ten o'clock?'

'See you tomorrow, Rupert. And remember, don't take any nonsense from him, OK?'

Rupert watched Malcolm head back to the car, then beckoned Frodo into the house.

*

Rupert wandered into his sitting-room, with Frodo following close behind.

'I'm just going to sit and read your master's notes, boy,' said Rupert, plumping himself down on the sofa. 'Here, come and sit next to me,' he added, patting the cushion by his side.

Frodo cocked his head. Jump on a sofa? Surely that wasn't allowed. Was this a trick?

'Come on, boy. Hup! Jump up.'

Frodo hopped onto the sofa. 'Don't be scared, snuggle up,' said Rupert, and Frodo crept a little closer, resting his head against Rupert's thigh, while his new master for the night retrieved Malcolm's notes and read through them.

'Right, boy. The first thing I'm supposed to do is check that you're clean. Your master says you always have to keep yourself washed and clean, for him, and that counts for when he's absent as well. So best do what your master wants, huh? He says you're to get out of your fursuit, and I'm to check you over. All right, buddy?'

Frodo, who had begun to get comfortable next to the warmth of his new host, was used to obeying commands at any time of the day or night. He stood up, slipped off his suit, and stood in front of Rupert.

'OK, boy. Paws on your head, and spread those legs. That's right. Now, let's take a look.' Rupert referred to Malcolm's notes. 'He says you're not good at drying behind your ears. So, let's see.' Frodo stood patiently while Rupert took each ear and tugged it forward, rubbing the flesh behind it. 'That looks OK. He also says you sometimes skip cleaning your teeth. Hmm.' Rupert took Frodo's lower lip and pulled it down. 'Open up, boy, I can't see.' Frodo opened his mouth and Rupert stuck a finger inside, running it up and down along Frodo's teeth. 'Yup, teeth fine. What else does it say? Ah, he wanted you to shave your nips of any hair before this evening.' Rupert looked at Frodo's smooth chest, took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, and playfully twisted it. He saw the dog's cock, already erect, stiffen upwards a few more degrees. 'Nips OK. You're doing well, boy. And,' Rupert reached down to rub around the pup's genitals, around the base of his cock, and over his puppy sac, 'you've shaved down there as well? Smooth as a baby's, that's what I like. Now, it says here that you're pretty lax at cleaning your cock; Malcolm says he sometimes finds tiny flecks of smegma under the foreskin. Is that right?'

Frodo assumed the 'Is that right?' was Rupert talking to himself, but then Thwack! he felt a hand sharply sting his right buttock. 'Is that right, boy? You don't know how to keep your cock clean?' Frodo nodded. 'Well, let's see.' Rupert took Frodo's cock in his hand, the foreskin already stretched almost back, and inspected it closely. He rolled it between his fingers, lifted the crown of the inflamed red head, and inspected the frenum, every millimetre of the pup's cock-head. 'You know, that's really pretty good. I bet you made a special effort, didn't you?' Frodo nodded. 'That's good, because when I find dogs with dirty dicks, I usually scrub them with a toothbrush. But yours is clean. That's a shame,' he shrugged.

Frodo winced, and thanked his lucky Dog Star that he had made a special effort.

'OK almost done,' said Rupert, turning the page of his notes. 'Ah, yes, mustn't forget that,' he muttered to himself, walking over to the hold-all and removing a bright yellow marigold glove. 'Bendy time, boy,' he said, walking back to the pup. 'Bend over and spread them their tasty cheeks.' Frodo bent forward, his front paws on his knees, then felt a hard slap, this time against his left buttock. 'I said, spread them their cheeks,' said Rupert.

Frodo got down on the floor, raised his butt in the air, reached back and pulled his cheeks out to expose his tail-hole. He heard a few rustling noises, then felt cold lube being daubed around his rear puppy entrance, followed by the insertion of a rubber-gloved finger. The finger moved around inside him, probing, and stretching his hole; then a second finger followed, and they moved around, supposedly checking for anything that might be hidden, but - Frodo suspected - they were really searching for his prostate. They found it. Frodo whined quietly, trying not to cum. 'All good,' said Rupert, pulling out his hand, and giving the dog a friendly slap on the rump.

Frodo sighed an internal breath of relief; he'd passed the test. It was something that Malcolm usually insisted upon, when leaving his dog with somebody else for the night. Rupert walked around to face Frodo, then noticed something.

'What's that on your dick?'

Frodo looked down.

'Wuf-wum,' said Frodo.

'What?'

'Wuf-wum,' repeated Frodo, as if it were obvious.

'Precum? Really?' Rupert wiped the tip of Frodo's cock with his little finger, brought it up to his nose and sniffed. 'Hold out your tongue, boy.' Frodo stuck out his puppy tongue, and Rupert wiped the cum onto it from his finger. 'Taste it boy.' Frodo swallowed the cum. 'Good?' Frodo nodded. 'But not as good as a full load, though?' Frodo half-shrugged, to say that he'd be happy to taste either. 'Let's get you a full load, boy,' said Rupert, and he went back to the hold-all.

'Your master's thought of everything,' he said, as he started laying some newspapers on the floor. 'He even packed some papers, in case I didn't have any. Right, boy, time to bend over again, but this time it won't be my fingers in your tail-hole.'

Frodo bent forwards, heard Rupert drop his trousers, and then felt the familiar touch of a warm, erect cock sliding up and down his butt-crack in search of its entrance. 'Good dog, good boy,' said Rupert, finding his position and easing forward, his thick member entering right up to his balls. Frodo tensed. Rupert leaned forwards, grabbed some of Frodo's hair, and tugged it back. 'You ready for this boy?' Frodo nodded. 'Then let's get going. Yee-hah!' And with that, Rupert gave the dog's buttocks another slap, grabbed the pup's hips, and started thrusting like a piston set to explode. Frodo came within seconds, and Rupert followed not long after.

'A bit quick, boy, but what the heck,' said Rupert, pulling out and zipping his trousers back up. Frodo remained bent over, awaiting further orders. Rupert sat down on the floor, near the papers. 'Sit down buddy,' he said, patting the carpet beside him. Frodo sat down and waited.

'Come on, snuggle up,' he said. Frodo inched towards Rupert. 'Come on, buddy, closer,' encouraged Rupert. Frodo shuffled over to his host, who put out an arm and pulled the pup close to him, spooning him.

'Gosh, what a mess you made, when you finally came,' observed Rupert, reaching out and drawing a piece of newspaper towards him. He tore off one strip, spattered by a particularly huge parcel of puppy milk, and held it in front of the pup's snout. Frodo turned to look at him. 'It's for you, boy,' said Rupert. Rupert waved the torn piece of paper, and Frodo reached forward and took it from his hand. 'Tasty?' asked Rupert. Frodo nodded.

'Which one next?' asked Rupert. Frodo looked out at the newspapers, covered with a dozen patches of puppy cum that had landed like so many little cream pies. He spied a large one, on an advert for a luxury gentleman's wrist watch, and pointed to it with his mitt. 'OK, boy,' said Rupert, stretching his arm and dragging the sodden sheet towards him. 'Here,' he said, again tearing the paper into a smaller fragment. 'No, wait,' he said, gently nudging Frodo away, and standing up. 'Beg for it, boy,' he said, holding the soggy paper in the air above Frodo's head. 'Beg for your cum, boy,' repeated Rupert. Frodo got up on his haunches, little puppy front paws held out in front of him, furry head upturned towards his goal, and wuffed. Rupert waved the paper enticingly. 'Fancy some cum-smeared paper, boy?' he asked. Frodo wuffed again, and stretched his neck up higher. Rupert conceded, lowered the paper to Frodo's reach and let him take it. 'There's a good boy,' he said, stroking the pup's muzzle. 'My, but it looks as if you're getting hard again. There's nothing stopping you, is there, pup? Well, get furred up and we'll go out to the shed.'

*

Frodo had expected the shed to be in Rupert's garden, but it turned out to be in an allotment that ran lengthways along the back of all the terraced houses. Fortunately darkness was falling and they didn't encounter anyone else as Rupert led the pup to a shed and unlocked the door.

'In you go, boy,' said Rupert, following behind, switching on a light and closing the door. Frodo looked around; tools hung from the walls, sacks of potatoes and various cans were piled at the back, dust lined the floor and there was a smell of damp.

'If you just stand there, towards the back,' said Rupert, 'I'll fix you up. Oh, and defur yourself.' Frodo shrugged off his dalmatian fursuit and stood where Rupert pointed, then watched as the young lad rummaged in an old wooden chest and produced some large cuffs. The pup waited patiently as his master fixed the cuffs to his ankles, hooked on some heavy chains and then clipped each chain to an O-rings attached to opposite walls. His rear paws were left being held a good three feet part.

Rupert opened another drawer, retrieved a paper plate, and put it on the floor at Frodo's feet.

'No newspapers in here, boy, and I don't want your cum on my clean shed floor.'

Clean? thought Frodo to himself, but he didn't say anything; he just nodded.

'So you might want to kneel, and aim carefully, when you're ready,' explained Rupert.

Frodo nodded, still awaiting any further instructions, or for permission to start.

'Oh, and you need your mitts off for this,' said Rupert, lifting them off Frodo's paws.

'Good. Right. So you're a pup, a baby dog. Great.' Rupert reached forward and tied a small pink ribbon around the base of the Frodo's cock. 'A pretty pink ribbon for a little furry pup,' he said. 'But i've not got any dummies, so you'll just have to suck your thumb.'

Frodo stared at him.

'Start. Sucking. Your. Thumb.' said Rupert.

Frodo lifted his left paw, and put the thumb in his mouth.

'Suck, boy, suck,' said Rupert. He watched, and Frodo's cheeks started moving; the pup was sucking.

'Right. Finally. Now you can wank. But keep sucking. And don't miss the plate.'

Frodo started rubbing his swollen cock, which had already leaked some precum, while Rupert went to the shed door and opened it. It was pitch black outside, and a cool breeze stole into the warming shed. 'It was getting hot in here, boy,' said Rupert. Frodo, already halfway to coming, and spurred on by the thought of being seen by somebody from outside, dropped to his knees and slowed down the rate of stroking. Rupert looked on, and Frodo eased up almost to a stop, then stroked himself once, and paused, and once more, and then arched his back, and pointed his cock at the plate, and fired three or four creamy loads. He squeezed his cock, pressing the head, and deposited a fourth and final load, dead-centre.

'Atta boy, well done. And you got it all on the plate. Kudos to you,' said Rupert. 'Now, lick it clean.'

Frodo took his thumb from his mouth, leaned forwards, and lapped at the cum-covered plate, savouring his warm salty puppy juice. He held the plate down with one paw, and licked it thoroughly, until not a drop of cum was left, not even a smear of it. He looked up.

Rupert approached and sat down by Frodo, then picked up the plate. 'What's this?' he asked. Frodo looked at the plate. 'There's a stain,' said Rupert. Frodo looked puzzled. 'That's a stain, there, isn't it?' he said, holding the plate out and showing it to Frodo. Frodo nodded, Yes, of course there was a slight discolouration, he'd cum on the darned thing. 'I wanted a clean plate, boy,' said Rupert. 'Is that a clean plate?' he asked. Frodo shook his head.

'You'd better stand up and bend over, then, boy,' he said. Frodo did as he was told. 'Take this,' he said, holding out a red rubber bone for the pup to take in his mouth. Frodo bit it. 'Discipline is important, Frodo,' he said, walking behind the pup and unhooking something from the wall. 'Do you need discipline, pup?' he asked. Frodo nodded. 'You're not just saying that, are you?' asked Rupert. Frodo shook his head. 'Say hello to Mr Crop,' said Rupert, holding a riding crop under the pup's snout. Frodo looked at it. 'Say hello to it,' said Rupert. 'Wuffo, wuffing-wup,' barked Frodo. 'Bow to it, boy,' ordered Rupert. Frodo lowered his head. 'Good, at least you know how to show some respect. Let's see if you're just as good at tolerating Mr Crop's caresses.' And on that note, Rupert walked back behind Frodo and ran the crop up and down the dog's inner thighs. 'Mr Crop wants them spread,' he said. Frodo parted his legs. 'More,' said Rupert. Frodo inched both his feet further apart, and his master slid the crop up to the pup's undercarriage, tapping his swinging balls. Then Rupert walked up right behind the dog and bent over him; Frodo felt the warmth of his master's body, and the heat of his master's breath on his neck. 'Mr Crop,' whispered Rupert in his ear, 'wants to help you learn to be a good doggy. Mr Crop,' he whispered, 'likes good doggies.'

Rupert stood back and, without further warning, swished the crop against Frodo's buns. Caught by surprise, Frodo yelped and dropped the red bone.

'Did you drop the bone?' asked Rupert. 'Mr Crop doesn't like bone-droppers, Frodo.' Rupert picked the bone off the floor, and held it out to Frodo. 'Apologise to Mr Bone, boy.'

'Wuf Wuffy, Wuffr Wone,' barked Frodo.

'What's that?' said Rupert, holding the red rubber bone to his ear. 'Mr Bone says, Don't let it happen again, Frodo. Now, take it again, and don't drop it this time.' Frodo took the bone between his teeth and gritted himself for more strikes of the crop. 'It was going to be half a dozen,' said Rupert, 'but in my book dropping the red bone doubles the count. Hellooo, twelve swats.' Frodo flinched a couple of times, but didn't drop the bone again.

'Good, good dog,' said Rupert, stroking Frodo's red-stinging buttocks. Stroking them, rubbing them, caressing them, and slipping his fingers up to and around the pup's tail hole. 'Oh, my, is that yet more precum?' he asked. Frodo stared down at his pup-hood, which evidently liked Mr Crop's form of attention far more than his burning butt cheeks. 'I think you might need to be serviced, boy,' said Rupert.

*

Frodo stood, still shackled by his rear paws, and watched as Rupert pulled down a large mattress that had been fixed to the ceiling, and covered it with a plastic sheet that he got from a bag in one corner of the shed. He unclipped his Frodo's hind paws, freeing the young pup. 'Down, boy, lie on the mattress,' said Rupert.

Frodo lay down, and Rupert stood over him.

'This shed doesn't have any running water,' said Rupert.

Frodo looked up at him.

'And I need a piss,' added Rupert.

Frodo waited, patiently.

'Any thoughts, boy?' asked Rupert.

Frodo pointed at himself.

'You? Really? I can piss on you?' asked Rupert.

Frodo nodded.

'That's handy, because that's what I had in mind anyway,' said Rupert, unzipping his flies.

Frodo closed his eyes and, a few seconds later, was hit by Rupert's warm yellow stream. The smell, in the confined shed, filled his nostrils, making his cock harden yet more. The pup felt Rupert straddle him, the piss still flowing, and he felt the forceful jet work up his chest, over his chin and against his lips. 'Not swallowing, then?' asked Rupert. Frodo licked his lips; a token gesture, and because - in all honesty - he wanted to at least try some of Rupert's piss. Then, a few seconds later, the stream dwindled to a weak spattering, and it stopped. Frodo sat up, and licked his lips. He licked the back of each yellow-wet paw, then beckoned for Rupert's cock. Rupert approached, and Frodo took his master's cock into his mouth, licking it piss-dry. Satisfied, the pup lay back down onto the pee-covered plastic.

'Good dog, well done, well taken,' said Rupert. 'I think you deserve a reward for that.'

Frodo remained still, on the plastic sheet, as Rupert rummaged around in another sack.

'OK, boy, legs up,' he said, lifting the pup's legs up high so that Frodo was head-down, on his shoulders, with his butt in the air against Rupert, and his puppy legs hanging over him, forming the letter C. 'Unfortunately,' said Rupert, 'nature's not that well developed, so you might need this -' he smeared lube around the pup's anus '- because cucumbers don't come with lubrication.'

Frodo looked up at the massive two-foot cucumber that Rupert was holding.

'Now, I've forgotten, where does this go?' he asked.

Frodo stared back.

'Frodo?' asked Rupert.

Frodo waved a paw towards his elevated butt hole.

'Here?' asked Rupert, nudging the large fruit against the entrance to Frodo's overworked tail hole. 'You think I should put it here?'

Frodo nodded.

'Well, if you say so.' And Rupert pressed the green garden produce downwards, against the pup's sphincter. 'Brace yourself, puppy wuppy,' said Rupert, and slid the would-be salad item further into the wincing dog's hole, right up to half its length. 'Twelve inches, not bad,' remarked Rupert. 'I wonder whether lubed cucumbers slide very well,' he mused, withdrawing the fruit a short way, then sliding it back again. It brushed against Frodo's prostate, leading the pup to emit a brief whine.

'Good?' asked Rupert. 'Or bad?'

'Wuff,' replied Frodo.

Rupert pulled the cucumber out a little. 'Good?' he asked.

'Wuff.'

Then he slid it in, pushing it down a tad further, and rotating it. 'Bad?' he asked.

'Wuff. Wuff wuff wuff,' barked Frodo.

'Oh, you want me to go faster? Why didn't you say so?' And Rupert slid the dimple-ribbed green fruit up and down, up and down, it's relatively smooth and lubed body flowing freely, up and deep down, up and deep down, thrusting like some organic nature-made piston.

'Wuff. Wuffffff,' barked Frodo.

'You're going to come?' asked Rupert, repositioning Frodo's butt and bending him over just a little more, so that the pup's cock was over the pup's face. One final thrust of the fruit, a cry from Rupert of 'Open wide!' and Frodo's cock-hood shot its load over the dalmatian.

'Perfect shot!' said Rupert. 'Now stay like that, boy, while I take you home. No preening, licking, or washing. And no fursuit either, it's only a three-minute walk and I doubt any neighbours will be looking out of their windows.' Rupert attached a cock ring and leash to Frodo, helped him off the mattress, and together they walked back to Rupert's yard.

*

As they opened Rupert's back gate, Frodo saw a large kennel that he'd not noticed before. Inside, a Great Dane was dozing. Rupert led Frodo to the back door, then softly called, 'Al-fred. Al-fred.' The Great Dane emerged from his kennel and bounded up to its master. Rupert opened the back door and walked inside the house, followed by the pup and dog. They headed towards the living room.

'It's almost bedtime, boys,' said Rupert, 'so one last thing. Frodo, lie down please. Frodo obliged. 'Alfred,' said Rupert, beckoning and pointing at the young pup, 'cum treat. Cum treat for Alfred.'

The Great Dane sniffed the air, approached Frodo and stood over him, running his wet muzzle over Frodo's buck-naked body, until he found the pup's cum-covered face and started lapping. Huge, wet, slobbery, bad-breath, tongue-wide laps of Frodo's hair and forehead and nose and cheeks and chin; which lasted at least a couple of minutes.

'Excellent. Who needs soap and water, when you've a hungry Great Dane?' asked Rupert. 'But, if I'm not mistaken, you've made him quite hard, young Mr Frodo. You've quite turned on Alfred the Great Dane. Just look at his cock.' Frodo opened one eye, and caught his breath at the size of the dog's cock; one that most teenaged boys would be proud to sport. 'I think he needs servicing too,' observed Rupert.

Frodo blinked. He was going to be butt-fucked by a Great Dane?

'Roll over, boy.'

Frodo and the Great Dane rolled over in unison.

'No, no, not you Frodo. You've got work to do. I mean Alfred. See, Alfred knows who I mean.'

Frodo looked, and saw that Alfred was lying on his back, paws dangling in the air, head tipped to one side, tongue lolling out, and an inane grin on his Great Danish face. His back legs had each fallen sideways, exposing his knotting cock.

'Suck him,' said Rupert.

Frodo looked up.

'Suck him,' said Rupert. 'He's a dog. You're a pup. It's a cock. What's the problem?'

Tentatively, Frodo approached the Great Dane.

'Look, boy, I can drive you out to my brother's farm, where he's got half a dozen stallions that don't get their rocks off for weeks at a time, or you can pleasure Alfie.' Rupert paused. 'Your choice.'

Frodo lowered his head between the Dane's back legs, lifted the dog's cock upwards, slid back the foreskin, and took the tip into his mouth.

'Deep throat him,' said Rupert.

Frodo, trying not to retch, lowered his head, consuming the Dane's entire cock; he felt it twitching and thickening. 'Bob your head,' said Rupert. Frodo obliged.

'Good. Good, that's enough. You can stop, Frodo. I don't expect you to take his cum, unless you want to, but I did need to check your obedience. Your master knows about Alfie, and thought this would be a good test. I think you passed.'

Frodo let go of the Dane's dick and took a couple of steps back, wiping his mouth with one paw. 'If fact, I think you've passed with flying colours, boy,' said Rupert. 'And now it's bedtime. Come on, you two.'

This time, Alfie followed Rupert, and Frodo followed Alfie, as their common master led them to the back door and out into the yard.

'Alfie said you can share his kennel tonight, you lucky pup,' said Rupert. 'It's large enough for three dogs, so you two should have plenty of room. The straw's quite rough, but it's very warm.' Rupert took one end of a long chain hanging from the kennel wall, and fixed it to Alfred's collar. Next he fitted a collar to Frodo, and joined the two collars with a shorter chain. 'Alfie's the dominant one, so he's chained to the kennel. You're just a pup, so you're chained to him,' explained Rupert.

Frodo nodded, accepting his fate.

'And now I'll leave you boys until morning. G'night chaps,' said Rupert. 'Oh, just one thing,' he added as an afterthought, just before entering the house. 'Frodo, I think your sucking left Alfie very very randy, and he'll usually fuck anything in sight, if it moves, and even if it doesn't move, anyway. And you do smell of cum. And you do have the most beautiful butt i've seen in my life. So if you don't want a dog-cock in your dog-butt then I'd sleep with your back very much to the kennel wall. Sleep tight,' said Rupert, and went indoors.

Frodo looked up at Alfred, and could have sworn the Great Dane was grinning.

Despite himself, Frodo murred.

The End.