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-DISCLAIMER-

What you are about to read is intended for audiences ages 18 and over. If you are under the age of 18, please leave this page, or delete this file. Again, this story is intended for audiences age 18 and over.

-WARNING-

The following story contains sexual content, not suitable for people below the age of 18, or anyone who finds disgust, or offense, to the following scenes.

Some scenes you may find offensive in this story are:

• Homosexual activity (sexual acts between two or more men)
• Non-anthro/Feral animals (aka real animals)
• Unprotected sexual acts
• Brutality
• Non-consensual sex

This is not a complete list of the graphic, sexual scenes you will read during this story. Please, if you are not comfortable with any of the above, refrain from reading further. I take no responsibility for the actions taken, or feelings hurt, by anyone who chooses to read this story.

To all those who dare read further, you've been warned.

Lady and the Tramp: Tramp's Trials, Troubles and Tribulations

By Linkin Monroe

Scamp kept running, his heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He had just stolen his human's lunch right from under their nose and managed to slip past his father. He now had a delicious plump chicken, cooked to perfection in his muzzle. He ran down the alleyway, panting for air. After a brief moment he set the chicken down, he had done it. He had finished the task Buster the Doberman, had given him. It worked better than he thought it would.

It had just been the other day when he ran away from his house to be a street dog, free from the fences and the leashes and the baths and his oppressive father, Tramp. He was such a stickler for obeying the rules. And after doing things that Buster had given him, from stealing a particular tin can from a bulldog named Reggie, which also worked out for the other street dogs favor because the dogcatcher caught the brute and dragged him to the pound, to him stealing the chicken in front of his dad, Scamp felt he would finally be a junkyard dog in Buster's gang.

With a tired huff, the young pup sat on his haunches and said to himself, "Slick move. You lost him."

"Don't bet on it." Came a familiar voice from behind him.

Scamp jerked his head around, and saw his father. They were nearly identical, gray mangy fur, a pair of floppy ears and the bushy mustache on their muzzle. And boy, did his father look angry.

Scamp grimaced and looked to the side, there was a wooden fence in front of him. He made a run for it and pushed against the wooden gate. Locked. He pressed in vain, trying to somehow knock it open.

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey, slow down there Whirlwind." Tramp said, approaching his pup slowly.

Scamp gave up and turned around to face his father. "I'm not going home, you can't make me."

Tramp nodded, "I know I know... easy." He said calmly and looked at his son. "I just wanna talk." He looked around and smiled gently. "So, umm... how you doing out here?"

Scamp leaned on his front paws and wagged, "It's great dad! The junkyard dogs have taught me all the tricks." He walked around his dad and jumped up on a crate, now at the same height of his dad's face. "I go wherever I want, do whatever I please." He jumped up on another crate, now higher to express how much freedom he had. "No chains, no fences--"

"No regard for someone else's lunch?" Tramp interjected, glancing at the chicken that now lay on the dusty cobblestone.

"That's how it is out on the streets," Scamp retorted and then jumped down, backing his dad up against the wooden fence. "But then, you know all about that, don't you?" He glared at his father. "You make the rules, but you didn't have to follow them when you were my age!" He lowered his head, growling a bit in his throat at the hypocrisy of his father. "Is that why you didn't tell me _you _were a street dog?"

"I didn't want that life for you," Tramp admitted, and smiled. "Because I found something better. I found love."

A mocking drawl sound came from the alleyway entry, "Aww ain't that beautiful," came the sound of Scamp's hero, a street smart canine named Buster. He was flanked on either by other junkyard dogs. How long had they been there, listening to the conversation. The muscular black and tan dog approached. "I think I'm getting all misty eyed here," he said with dripping sarcasm, looking upwards.

It had been a while since Tramp had last seen Buster. His former partner was the same cocky, arrogant bruiser he always knew.

"I see you haven't changed a bit." Tramp growled, his hackles rising as the black and brown Doberman was now in front of him, that familiar toothy grin on his face.

"So here we are again," Buster reminisced, perking a brow as he caught a whiff of his old buddy's scent. "Just like old times." He circled around the gray mutt, looking him over. He knew Tramp had to of kept his jewels to produce the first litter, and he was surprised Tramp still had them after that. He stood behind Tramp and looked at that pink puckered hole under that tuft tail. Looked tight as ever. "Before you turned your back on everything!" He looked up and glowered at Tramp as the other canine turned his head to face him. "That makes a dog, a dog."

"He says you walked out on him." Scamp added, glaring at his father. How could his dad just ditch such a cool friend.

Tramp's heart fluttered._ How much had Buster told my son? If Scamp knew... _He leaned towards Scamp, talking in a low voice. "After I met your mother... I-I guess Buster just got jealous..." he stammered, the young pup, hoping he would accept that answer and not question further.

Buster stalked past them and then interrupted, teeth bared. "YOU DITCHED ME!"

"I FELL IN LOVE!" Tramp protested, trying to make the Doberman back off.

Buster snarled and snapped back at the gray mutt, "YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE!" Then with the small pup between them, Buster smirked. "Now it's his turn to choose." This was it, the final nail in the coffin for his revenge against Tramp. He leaned toward Scamp, "C'mon kid." He suggested, with a charming grin.

Tramp had enough, "You don't know what he's really like son. You're coming home--"

"You hear that kid," Buster smirked, Tramp was making this too easy. "Daddy's telling you what to do again."

"You don't belong here"

Scamp looked up at his dad, certain what to do for a moment while the two adult canines argued, looking back and forth.

"And he's leading you back to a life on the chain. I'm offering you freedom."

A third voice pleaded behind them, it was Angel the Pomeranian. "Scamp..."

His father echoed his name, "Scamp."

Buster joined in. "Scamp."

Tramp's voice sounded more stern, "Scamp."

Buster had had enough, "Make your choice kid."

Tramp stepped in front of Scamp, "He doesn't have a choice!" He stood protectively over his son. "I know what's best for him."

Unexpectedly, Scamp pushed past his dad and stood in front of Buster, shaking his head. "No! You know what's best for you!" Tramp blinked in surprise. "Well I'm not you dad," Scamp continued and walked around to stand next to his mentor. "I'm a junkyard dog!"

Buster laughed, he had won. He had gotten his revenge on Tramp. "That's my boy."

Tramp lowered his head in defeat. He had failed his son, "I guess there are some things you have to learn on your own. When you've had enough, our door is always open." He started to turn around as Buster started to chuckle again.

"House dog to the end," Buster called after him and looked at Scamp, the young pup was wagging excitedly. "What did I tell ya kid..." he glared at Tramp, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks."

Tramp paused and looked once more over his shoulder. He smirked and with a bounce in his step, he nudged the lock of the gate up and the door swung open.

Scamp gasped, earlier Buster couldn't even do that. Buster blinked, that had caught him off guard. Tramp and he had learned everything together. The loud gasp behind him told him all the other junkyard dogs had seen it too. Tramp kept walking away and Buster snorted, turning his back to walk out the alley.

But Scamp didn't follow him. Buster stopped and looked back. Scamp stood still, staring at the open gate. For a moment, Buster was worried his plan would backfire and Scamp would go after his father. He had to do something!

"HEY SCAMPSKY!" Buster exclaimed, using a nickname he had made up for the pup. He lowered down on his front paws, ready to pounce. "This is for all you've done kid." He started to run.

Scamp blinked and turned his head, the tone in Buster's voice sounded so menacing. He didn't have any time to react when he saw the massive Doberman lunging at him, muzzle open, showing off every single tooth in his maw. Scamp toppled over as he was pinned to the ground, the hot breath on Buster on his face. The Doberman was growling, eyes furrowed, snout wrinkled, teeth bared. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! Was Buster going to kill him? Scamp whimpered and closed his eyes as the big black dog went for his throat.

But he never felt the teeth on his neck. Instead the Doberman now had his blue collar on his mouth, shaking it to loosen it from Scamp. Scamp slipped free and fell to the ground, staring at this torn collar. He was free.

"You did it kid," Buster said proudly, as if Scamp was now his son. "You're at the top of the heap now! A junkyard dog."

Scamp trembled as he got to his feet. "I-I'm a junkyard dog?" He looked up at his hero, his eyes beaming with joy as he heard the words he dreamed about.

"Welcome to ze pack!" piped Francois, a small black and white Boston terrier who had stepped up and threw Scamp's discarded collar up into the air. Buster caught it with his mouth and led them out of the alley as all the other junkyard dogs congratulated Scamp and his accomplishment.

They returned to the junkyard where Scamp celebrated his new found freedom, despite being there for the past few days. Buster watched from a torn up couch, listening to the dogs howl and Scamp run around the junkyard. He thought he would feel some sort of satisfaction for besting his old friend, but after seeing him today, old feelings were starting to return.

How could Tramp just leave him like that. He found love? He snarled, angry at himself. They had done everything together ever since he could remember. Hell, even Tramp had saved him from a dog catcher at one point. They were like brothers, hell, family and on occasion even more than that.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a loud commotion. Angel was yelling at Scamp.

"...You're not like the rest of us Scamp," she said.

"Oh yeah, yeah, that's right," Buster added. "Let's see, umm..." He tried his best to mimic Angel's voice to make fun of his once friend's kid that was now wrapped around his paw. "He's good, and decent and kind. Is that it Scampy?" He made a pathetic whimpering sound, sniffling as though he were crying like a puppy and rested his head between his legs, still sniffling and stood up, wriggling his rump and stubbed tail. "You wanna be a lil house doggieee..." He teased.

"No!" Scamp shouted.

Facing the young pup, Buster started snarling. "Cause you know how I feel about house dogs."

Scamp didn't like the way Buster was talking to him. "Hey, cut it out." He tilted his head to Angel, pointing the blame to her. "SHE'S the one who wants to be a house dog, not me!"

The junkyard dogs gasped in shock, and Angel glowered at Scamp. Immediately he started apologizing. How could he just call her out like that. He was no better than Buster. Buster had jumped down from the couch and approached them. He glared at Angel.

"Is that true Angel baby?" he asked, ticked off that yet another dog would want to leave him.

The Pomeranian lowered her head, and then looked up at the fearless leader. "I don't think a family's so bad."

Buster looked at the onlooking dogs, his stomach twisted up in knots. "You hear that boys? She wants to be a lil house pet!" Making fun of someone was the only way he could feel better about himself at this point. He focused his attention back to Angel. First Tramp, now his girl?! "You ain't no junkyard dog."

Angel stood up for herself, "That's right, Buster. I'm not. Not anymore." She walked past him, head held high. She stopped for dramatic effect. "Oh... and uh..." She looked over her shoulder with a hint of haughtiness, "I'm not your girl."

Buster glared at her and that tantalizing curled tail. Man, that bitch sure knew how to pick a fight. The other junkyard dogs murmured behind them. Buster was losing his cool. How dare she embarrass him in front of everyone else.

Angel stopped in front of Scamp to say one last thing, "Maybe you do belong here." She said, fighting back tears and then took off, running out of the pipe that acted as the entrance to the junkyard.

Buster snatched up Scamp's former collar and headed back towards the couch, "Aww who needs her..." his voice broke a little. "Let her find some sniffling little family, that's where she belongs."

He watched Scamp follow after her and sat in silence, still holding the collar in his mouth. He set it down between his legs and stared at it. He wasn't sure what his obsession was with the kid's collar. He would stare at his reflection in the collar and wonder what would've happened if he found a human to call family...

---

Tramp's heart pounded, it was the middle of the night and under the light of the full moon he was following a complete stranger who had enlisted his help. The gray furred mutt followed along side the Pomeranian across town, fourth of July fireworks boomed overhead.

He was fueled by adrenaline, his muscles screaming as he ran like he were a young pup on the street again. The pomeranian he had seen earlier with Buster, the Doberman, and his gang, the junkyard dogs. Why is she helping Scamp? Could this be a trap? He shook his head. No way, Buster was bad news. He shouldn't have left Scamp with them when he saw them this afternoon.

They ran across the bridge, across the train tracks. They were headed for the pound where the Pomeranian said she had seen his son. Fireworks continued to explode overhead, Tramp hoped he wasn't too late. A young pup in the pound was nothing more than a tasty dinner for a bigger dog.

The pound was just ahead, with a burst of speed, Tramp ran past the Pomeranian and burst through the door, just in the nick of time. Across the destitute pound, Scamp was caged with a large brown bull dog; what was the dog catcher thinking? Putting a puppy with a rabid brute.

"HOLD ON, SON!" Tramp barked as he bounded across the room toward the cage. Scamp jumped out from under the massive dog's paw as Tramp reached the door lock, and with precision, nudged the lock with his nose. The cage swung open and Tramp lunged at the bulldog, knocking him onto his back.

Bouncing back to defend Scamp, he growled at the dog who rolled to get up. "Keep your paws off my boy!" Tramp barked.

The obese bulldog didn't seem to understand as he started forward to attack. Tramp lunged at the bulldog's front right paw and made contact with his teeth. He bit down hard and then again. He tasted blood as the bulldog howled in pain. A big brown paw swung and slapped Tramp across his muzzle. Tramp flew across the cage and landed on his feet, his hackles rising. He hadn't felt like this in ages. With a confident gleam in his eye, he lunged at the bulldog again. He went for the neck, and realized his mistake: There was so much scruff and fat present that it hardly phased the brute. Instead, he found himself flung about like a rag dog and then lost his grip with his teeth. He was thrown off the bulldog's back and with a loud crack as he hit a solid wooden wall in the cage and grunted as he was too stunned to move properly.

Tramp heard the dimwitted canine's throaty growl as he came in for the kill, but he couldn't get up.

"HEY!" He heard his son Scamp shout. "Paws off my pop!"

In a flash, Tramp heard the bulldog howl out in pain. What had Scamp done? He opened his eyes and in front of him, Scamp had the bulldog's tail grasped in his teeth. A distraction! Maybe Buster had taught his son a thing or two. The bulldog spun in circles, trying to get Scamp off his docked tail and then bucked, sending Scamp flying out of the open cage door and he hit the wall on the other side of the room. His unconscious body fell limp on the floor.

Tramp gasped as he sat up, his chest heaving in pain. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight much longer. The bulldog was still facing his son. Without thinking of his next plan of attack, he growled and went for the under part of the brute's neck. He bit, and this time, he knew he found his mark. The two toppled over and Tramp lost his grip again. He rolled onto his side, and watched the hulking brown mass approach him.

"EHEHEHEE!" came a loud annoying cackle from a cage next door, an ugly small dog had his head poked between two bars. "LOOKS LIKE REGGIE FOUND HIMSELF A NEW BITCH. AHHAHAHAHA!"

Tramp blinked in bewilderment and looked back at the mentally unstable beast. That's when he noticed the swelling sheath between the bulldog's legs. He looked up into those smoldering eyes staring at him. They were filled with a look he hadn't seen in a long time. Lust. Slobber dripped from the bulldog's drooping jowls as his sex drive kicked in after years of not finding a suitable mate, his thick skull figured he may as well mate with his beaten prize.

Tramp grunted when Reggie lunged at him, a massive paw pressed on his chest, pinning him down. Tramp grunted, trying to get away but from the exhaustion of running and the abuse of being thrown around, he was too weak to fight back. It had been too long since he was last taken by another male. He couldn't get away!

Reggie grabbed Tramp by the scruff of his neck with his drooling jaws and twisted him around until Tramp's back was to the other, his face burning with embarrassment. He was cornered. Tramp dug his claws into the smooth tile, trying to balance himself. All around him he could smell the familiar scent of arousal as the other dogs in the pound were staring at them, sitting on their haunches, rubbing their sheathes.

Tramp didn't have a second to think before he felt the weight of the bulldog press on top of him and smash his face into the bars of the cage. Tramp felt the brute's red flesh nudge under his short tail, bucking and trying to find it's mark. This was unlike anything he had ever felt before with Buster. This dog was brutal, feral... his actions unceremonious. There was one thing he had in his mind, that was rut.

Reggie found his mark and with one, unforgiving thrust, impaled Tramp. Tramp howled out as his insides burned and screamed as he was taken by force. The mental canine just drooled on his face as he finally had his first rut in forever. He drove his cock into the tight and warm ring of Tramp's hole. It seemed to fit his aching bone perfectly and stretch to his every moment.

Tramp just closed his eyes and moaned as Reggie pulled his hips back and slammed back in like a jackhammer. He spread his legs as his ass was speared over and over again without a sense of rhythm. He would feel Reggie hit his prostate occasionally, making his cock spurt precum across his chest and the floor, but for most of the ordeal, Tramp was unable to find pleasure in the mating. He gritted his teeth as his inner lining was ripped open as Reggie's knot began to swell and push past his battered ring.

Gasping out in pain, Tramp begged for the bulldog to finish and not tie. But it was all in vain. Reggie gave a powerful thrust, his knot popping into his bitch and locked them together. He panted heavily, drool dripping on Tramp's face before he licked the back of Tramp's neck.

"Bitch... Good bitch..." Reggie muttered the first legible words Tramp could understand. "My bitch."

Tramp let out a soft cry as his abused hole stung in pain as Reggie tried to pull out. The brute hadn't even came. His ears flattened when felt warm fluids spurt across his snout as the mangy dog in the cage next to them came and shot through the bars. Tramp instinctively clenched and Reggie gave out a loud howl before he slammed his weight back into Tramp, punching Tramp's prostate and he let out a strangled yelp as he felt the bulldog's length swell within him before the warm gush of dog seed burst within him.

They remained like this for what felt like an eternity. The ferociousness of Reggie had completely vanished and the bulldog had even laid down and fallen asleep. All Tramp could do was stare at Scamp who was still unconscious on the floor and pray his son was okay. He waited, feeling the bulldog's length become less painful inside of him as the knot deflated. He wasn't going to risk being fucked again, or being caught by his son. He stood up on shaky legs, his chest still felt on fire as he could feel the dog's cum churning inside of him. He relaxed his rump and felt the cock slip free. Reggie grunted and woke up, growling.

"My bitch..." the bulldog muttered as he got up to his feet. Tramp knew he had to act fast. He darted past Reggie, running for the back of the cage, hoping Reggie would follow him. The massive dog lunged just as Tramp sprung off the back wall, there was a loud thud as Reggie's momentum caused him to crash into the wall and Tramp to leap for the open gate. He only had a moment to kick the door shut with his hind legs, the door locked and Reggie's grisly snout slammed into the bars, knocking him out.

Tramp sighed a breath of relief, he had escaped and his son was still alive. The cackle of the ugly spotted dog in the cage next to Reggie's got his attention.

"NEHEHEHE! AWW YEAH, HE'S CASHIN' HIS BONES, HE'S CASHED. NEHEHE."

Tramp ignored him and slowly approached his son's limp body. Was he too late? He sniffed his son, but it was impossible to catch his son's familiar scent with the smell of sex in the musky pound. He nosed his son's muzzle, his eyes watering. He gave a tender lick to his son's cheek.

Scamp stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He looked up and saw his dad standing over him, beaming in the moonlight pouring through scant roof. How long had he been out? Had they escaped Reggie? His dad winked at him, grinning proudly as fireworks exploded in the sky, as if they had gone off for him. His true hero! Scamp smiled and looked at Reggie's cage, there lying on his back was the unconscious bulldog.

Jumping to his feet, Scamp cheered, "Dad you did it! Slick move!" he growled at the cage, as if taunting Reggie to try to fight them again. Tramp gulped, and called his son back over. He wanted to get away from here as quick as possible before he noticed anything... unusual.

"Alright, we have to go now..."

Their brief moment of celebration was cut off when the front door swung open, and there was the tall lanky dogcatcher, net in hand. Tramp recognized him from his earlier days in the street.

"AH ha!" the dogcatcher hollered looking at Tramp, "You! The one that got away." He raised his arms to bring the net down when he screamed out in pain. In a comedic display, the dogcatcher spun around, trying to shake off the small fluffy Pomeranian who had attached herself to his ass with her teeth. His net caught a hook on the ceiling and he went flying into the wall and knocked himself out.

"Angel!" Scamp exclaimed with relief and bounced to his best friend, he was afraid Buster would've come for her after him. They jumped around each other, happy to be reunited. Scamp howled the best he could. Tramp smiled. He knew it was puppy love, he had felt the same way with Pidge.

"C'mon you two," Tramp chuckled and led them out of the pound, ignoring the annoying yapping spotted dog who now begged them to let him out of his cage.

They walked back back to the Dear house. But as they got closer, Tramp noticed Scamp was lagging behind, head drooped. As they stepped up onto the sidewalk, Scamp stopped completely.

"Pop?" Scamp started, his voice breaking.

Tramp turned around to look at the pup, "Son..."

"I'm so sorry," Scamp apologized, he apologized for everything he had done the past few days. From running away to shouting at him earlier that day. He hung his head in shame, almost brought to tears.

Tramp smiled understandingly at his son and nuzzled him tenderly, "Heh, Whirlwind," Tramp said, using his nickname for Scamp. "Maybe I was also a little too tough on you. I don't see any harm in the two of us going down to the river every once in awhile to bay at the moon. Whaddaya say?"

Scamp wagged excitedly, looking up at his dad. "Really? You and me?"

Tramp grinned and perked a brow. "Your old man still has a few good howls left in him."

They met up with Rusty and Jock, two close family friend dogs. They had been searching for Scamp while he had been away from home. All reunited, Tramp turned his head towards home. "Ready to go home Whirlwind?" He asked his son.

Scamp had a mischievous grin on his face and looked at his dad; there was still something he had to do and he was missing his collar. "Not quite pop, there's one last thing I gotta take care of." And with that he took off in the direction of the junkyard.

Dawn was just breaking as Scamp reached the other side of town where Buster's junkyard was located. He sprung through the pipe that lead into wide area.

The gang was just getting ready for their day when Scamp's head popped through the pipe. Buster was the first to notice the young pup coming in. He was surprised to say the least, but kept his cool. He had told the other dogs how Scamp was caught by the dogcatcher, but didn't include the part of his involvement.

"Do mine eyes deceive me?" He said out loud, as the pup got closer. The pinscher could see the anger in the pup's eyes, had the pup seen him when he led the dogcatcher to him? "HEY SCAMP... the Scamp-a-doodle! You escaped the pound!"

Scamp trotted over to the adult canine. "Yeah, no thanks to you."

Buster feigned ignorance and tried to play innocent. "Heey, c'mon... you know our motto--"

"You can keep your motto." Scamp spat and turned, spotting his discarded collar in the dirt. He nosed it over his muzzle and shook his head, the collar slipped past his head and around his neck, right where it belonged. "But not this." He breathed a sigh of relief as the metal tag gleamed in the first rays of the sun. Confidently, he looked at the big black dog he once called his mentor. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

Scamp glanced at the pipe, watching his father look on proudly at him. Angel stood at his side. He walked towards them and smirked back at the flabbergasted Doberman. "So long Buster." He jumped onto a wood plank which catapulted a leather boot that lay at the other end of it. He watched it soar through the sky directly at Buster. The Doberman ducked out of the way and watched it hit some junk behind him.

Buster smirked and looked at the pup, he was glad to be rid of the little shit and gloated. "AH ha, you missed Scamp-a-loser!"

What Buster didn't notice was that the boot had knocked some trash loose from the pile behind him, and it teetered in his direction. When he heard the creaking sound of furniture shifting and looked up, he had no time to react. A wardrobe and bed mattress crashed on top him. When the dust settled, Buster found himself pinned underneath the garbage.

Tramp laughed as the king of the streets was knocked off his throne by his own son, "That's my boy!" He chortled, using Buster's own words in the irony of the situation. Scamp walked past him and out of the junkyard, as Buster begged for help.

Buster tried to get out, his blood boiling with anger. How dare that pup do that to him! After all he had done for him. He pleaded to his fellow gang members, "Hey, someone wanna lend me a paw over here?" They ignored him as they followed Scamp out of his junkyard. What was happening?! Everything was being taken away from him. _Damn you Tramp, _he glared them down as they walked away, leaving them a threat. "If you dogs leave, you're never coming back!"

The small Boston terrier, Francois paused and Buster sighed a relief. At least someone had some sense not to turn tail on him.

"Au revoir, Buster," he said in his French accent, head held high. "It has been as you say: 'beau-tee-ful!" And with that he turned sharply and left.

Buster's heart sank to his stomach. He was betrayed and left alone. Again. "DOGS!" he cried, scrambling to get free, realizing his predicament. Someone would investigate the loud noise and he didn't want to be around when the dogcatcher came back. He wouldn't go back to the dogpound. He knew what they they do to dogs there. "You can't leave me here! I was only kidding! Buster's troubles ain't Buster's trouble. C'mon... Buster's trouble is everybody's trouble!"

As Tramp walked away from the junkyard, Scamp and Angel beside him as well as the other dogs from the junkyard. No one had stayed behind with the Doberman. As the sounds of Buster's pleas grew more distant, he tried to swallow the pit in his throat. Deep down he felt a little guilty. This was the second time he was going to leave his once friend. And realized it may be the last time he would ever see him.

His stomach felt sick, possibly due to the large amount of cum that Reggie had deposited in him. His hole twitched as he recalled the times he had given himself to Buster. When they first played around, he played it off as if they were young and exploring. But now he realized that he did still have feelings for his old friend.

He looked at Scamp and the others. He couldn't go back now. He bit his lip and kept walking, never looking back.

Later that evening, Tramp lay restless at the Dear home. Shadows danced on the wall as the windows rattled from the wind. He stared out the window at the moon and sighed out. The entire house was silent, aside from the soft sounds of the humans and the pups and Lady who lay curled up beside him. Everyone had been so relieved with Scamp home. Even Angel looked relaxed sleeping next to his three daughters. Tramp looked at his mate, watching her fluffy clean fur rise and fall with her breathing.

He nuzzled her softly, and got to his feet as she mumbled and kept asleep. The grey mutt whined softly as his rump tingled in pain and stood up, slipping through the dog door and paced the yard outside. He had tried sleeping, but his thoughts kept him awake. Buster had been on his mind after the incident at the junkyard. He had spent the whole day thinking about his younger days before settling down with Pidge. Recounting every memory he could recall with his once best friend. No, Buster was more than that. Buster had been his first lover. It hurt to leave him the first time. And leaving him again today had opened up a lot of hidden feelings and thoughts he had. He remembered their first time... the way it felt when Buster mounted him and tied with him. They became one and after that, they had been inseparable. Tramp's tail flicked and perked with a new energy. After what happened with Reggie, his body was beginning to crave what he once could have anytime. He missed Buster... in more ways than one.

Making a backwards glance at the door, he considered. Pidge was fast asleep... he would be back before dawn. He slipped through the hole in the fence and took off into the night. He had to find Buster. He had to make sure he was safe.

The streets were lit by electric lamps as Tramp ran underneath. He knew the streets like the back of his paw. He had roamed them all, this had been his and Buster's territory. He made it to the junkyard at no time. He stopped at the entrance, panting heavily and looked over the fence, looking at the old horse drawn cart that sat on top of all that junk. He wasn't sure what he would say. Was Buster still even here?

He hopped onto the pipe, keeping his head down as he hissed the Doberman's name. "Buster! Buster!!"

He entered the silent dump and looked around. Buster wasn't underneath the pile of junk anymore. He had either freed himself... or, Tramp swallowed, he had been captured. He sniffed the air to see if he could catch that scent that had eluded him for so long. He couldn't smell anything but rotting trash. Maybe he should check the pound again. An ominous dark shape appeared around a junk pile and approached him cautiously. Tramp held his breath as Buster drew closer and closer to him.

"Tramp..." He heard a growling voice mutter his name as though it were a bad taste in his mouth.

"Buster, you're okay." Tramp said with relief, "Earlier... what happened... I came back to--"

"Gloat?" The Doberman finished for the mutt with a gruff grunt. His foreboding appearance in the moonlight made Tramp nervous. "I don't have time for this. We had a good thing going on and then you left me for her, simple as that. And then today? You took everything from me!" He snarled, teeth flashing just out of reach in the moonlight.

Tramp's head sagged a bit as the Doberman recounted memories and each one hurt. He didn't realize how much pain he had caused his best friend when he left him for Lady. "Look I'm sorry!" Tramp pleaded, looking at Buster with sad eyes. "I came here to make sure you were okay. And to... to..." Tramp wasn't sure how to say what he really wanted.

Buster let out a low growl, in some attempt to make himself look tougher in front of Tramp. Even though he stood just a little taller than Tramp, in the past the Doberman had always treated the gray mutt as an equal. But when he saw those eyes, the eyes of the dog he once cared so much for, his anger melted and he let out a sigh.

"It's great to see you too Tramp," Buster smiled weakly, and plopped down on his rump. What more could he lose? "I'm glad you came back..."

"I came here because I wanted to talk to you." Tramp said sternly, looking his former friend in eye. "Why do you hate me Buster?" Tramp finally blurted out, breaking the awkward silence. He had to know the real reason why the pinscher had those harsh feelings against him. "I didn't just leave you, ya know. I came and told you about Pidge and my feelings about her. Why couldn't you just move on? You didn't need me here, you got what you wanted. You became the pack leader. You're the top dog. What's so wrong about that?"

"AND THEN YOUR KID TOOK THAT AWAY FROM ME!" Buster barked in anger, back on his feet digging his claws into the dirt as he paced the junkyard. "I wanted you there by my side, Tramp." Buster continued, and pointed his big muscled head in Tramp's direction, spit flying from his snarling maw. "Just like this. I don't know why you couldn't see that. We did everything together, and you say you can't grasp why I'd be angry?" He snapped.

Tramp froze and shook his head. "I let you know how I felt and you couldn't find it in yourself to be selfless for one moment and be happy for me?"

"You were mine, Tramp." Buster growled, now turning back around to be face to face with the mutt. "You were my mate and you just left. First you attacked our own, and then..." he took a breath, "THEN you let yourself get caught for that bitch!" The Doberman was flinging spittle everywhere. "That's not love! You were blinded by a bitch in heat."

"That was my choice to make, not yours."

Buster started circling Tramp, his claws leaving marks in the dirt. "You were nothing but a mangy scoundrel who just turned your back on your pack just to get an easy life. You don't get to do that. Not to me!"

"We were young!" Tramp protested. "We both did stupid things. You can't blame me for wanting to settle down with a dame."

"YOU LEFT ME! You betrayed me, you took my heart and buried it like a bone."

They stood there in silence, Buster's barreled chest heaving as he tried to compose himself and Tramp looked away in shame.

"Coming here was a mistake," Tramp whispered and turned, headed back here. Buster wouldn't hear what he really had to say. "Good bye Buster..."

Tramp didn't take two steps before he heard the Doberman growl. He was prepared for this, and just as the bigger dog lunged at him he sidestepped out of the way of Buster's razor sharp jaws. He jumped and pounced onto the Doberman's flank, going for his neck. Buster rolled to the side as Tramp's teeth sank into his shoulder.

Clamping his teeth down on the mutt's red collar, Buster yanked and pulled Tramp off of him, flinging him to the side and leapt at him again. Tramp tried to get to his feet before Buster slammed him into the ground and bit one of his floppy ears. Tramp countered by nipping at his legs and then scrambled to his feet.

Both dogs were now snarling as they circled each other, just barely out of reach, watching the other for a sign of weakness. One false move and it could mean life or death for either of them. Tramp could sense the anger coming off of Buster. He had no intention of killing his old best friend, but he knew Buster wouldn't hesitate to end his life. He had to do something before either made a mistake of killing the other.

He blurted out, "Buster... I came here because I still care about you, hell maybe I even love your sorry hide."

The Doberman snarled and snapped his teeth, his brows furrowed. _He's just toying with me. Making me hesitate. _Buster thought as they continued their dance, walking in circles. Tramp continued on.

"But I have Pidge now. I have a family now. I can't just leave all of them behind... you understand that right?"

"I had the junkyard dogs, and they had no problem leaving my ass behind!" the Doberman finally lunged, but instead of going at him with his teeth, the large black dog slammed forward with his head into Tramp's side and knocked Tramp down to the ground. Knocked off balance, Tramp gasped for air as his side throbbed with pain, he hadn't expected that.

"Buster..." Tramp tried to stand up, his legs shaky. His body was still sore from his fight with Reggie. He growled as Buster approached, the black dog confident that he would win this fight. Tramp's chest heaved in pain, his vision blurred as the Doberman pushed big paw on his chest.

"You've become soft Trampsky," Buster growled, looking down at the panting mutt. "This is what being a house dog does to you, bowing to the leash and the easy life that comes with it. Makes you weak..."

"Just one last thing..." Tramp panted, his heart racing in fear. Not for death, but for what he would say next. "I want you to mate with me... "

"You... what?" Buster was caught off guard. Another trick?

"I'm giving myself up to you Buster."

Buster's paw on Tramp's chest hesitated and then began to move it lower down his front. Tramp shrank to the dirt, trembling as the Doberman played with his sheath and balls.

"You always did enjoy being my bitch... and it always excited you when I dominated you."

Tramp blushed in embarrassment and looked away, his scruffy muzzle lay in the dirt as his tip poked from his sheath. It was true, he _had _always given himself to Buster. He had always pretended to be a wise-cracking rogue dog to the ladies, but his ass had always been Buster's.

"I'll give you credit, I'm surprised you went so long without a bone in your body." Buster mused as his strokes were becoming more rhythmic on Tramp's cock, pumping at the sensitive flesh and pulling the furry sheath back. Tramp just lay on his back, his front paws held up to his chest as he started panting heavily, the bliss of being touched... and the feeling of Buster's firm pawpads. He wanted this so badly.

He let out a low whimper of pleasure as Buster's paw rubbed and caressed his balls, rolling them in his paw.

"That's my girl." He teased and kept playing with Tramp's jewels. "I always knew how to press the right buttons."

Tramp couldn't hold back any more, his body had urges that had gone too long without release. He bucked his hips upwards and whined as his dick shot precum over the Doberman's paw and across his gray fur.

"Ohhh Bus..." Tramp moaned as his leg began to twitch and kick, feeling the Doberman work his knot. His precum flowed more steadily now as he thrusted upwards against those velvety paw pads. With how pent up he'd been at the Dear house, he was so close already and when Buster removed his paw, Tramp whined out wantingly.

Buster stood over him and made a circling motion with a paw. Tramp knew what that meant. His stomach went up in flutters as he tried to remember what Buster felt like. The scaring image of Reggie ripping his hole open seared in his brain. His hole still stung. He flushed as he rolled to his side, and with shaky legs, stood on all fours, his ass presented to the now King of the streets.

Buster placed his paw on Tramp's hindquarters, leaning down to sniff the rump in front of him. The strong male scent of another dog filled his nostrils. A closer look, and Buster could spot dried cum matting down Tramp's furry rump. He looked over at Tramp and smirked. "Ah ha... someone's been playing bury the bone. Hard by the looks of it."

Tramp blushed red hot. "Th-that isn't what you think. I was saving my son and I couldn't get away..." he hung his head in shame.

Buster laughed out loud in amusement. It wasn't the first time Tramp offered himself to save someone. The pinscher grinned as he looked down between his legs and saw his own cock stood at full attention and balls ached for release. "All the same, I guess you should get a treat for being a good girl and coming back to me, at least this one time." He nudged under Tramp's short tail, much like his own, doing little to hide that pink puckered tailhole. Buster panted as his hormones kicked in and drove his instincts to do the work, leaning closer and licked over Tramp's warm tailhole.

Tramp shuddered as he felt that rough tongue press against his hole, licking it clean from Reggie's mess. It had been so long, he'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to be rimmed. His tail perked up as Buster gave his hole the attention he really wanted, howling into the night. He felt the Doberman's drool laden tongue push in and out of his hole, causing him to lift his ass up a bit as he tried to lower his front.

Buster backed up a bit, his cock was leaking non stop as he looked over his work. That glistened hole stood out in comparison to the rest of his furry rump, clenched and relaxed, almost beckoning the pinscher to breed his enemy. Buster stepped up close to Tramp and hopped up on his backside, his forelegs wrapping around Tramp's haunches as his hips bucked up and humped against the mutt, his pointed tip twitching, itching to breed his lover once again. He pressed under Tramp's short tail, prodding for Tramp's tailstar.

Tramp gasped and froze as Buster took up the mounting position and felt the jabbing at his tailhole. He held still and didn't reply as the pinscher took his time to find his entrance.

Once Buster found his mark, there was little to no time to be gentle. With one powerful thrust, the ruthless Doberman managed to bury his entire shaft deep inside of him. It was still stretched from the pounding Tramp had received. Tramp howled out again as his legs spread out to support the added weight on his back. If there was something Buster was, he was a true dominant alpha that knew how to fuck. Tramp's cock twitched under him, dripping a steady flow of fluid onto the dirt.

Buster smirked to himself when Tramp didn't protest or fight back, instead he took it like the bitch he always was. Buster hunched closer and bucked again, his hips wiggling as he fought not to just rut and cum. He was going to make this last and make sure Tramp remembered that every moment his dick pounded that sweet gray furred rump that he was cheating on his Lady. His shaft sunk deeper into Tramp, the Doberman's muzzle rested on the mutt's shoulder, both drooling and grunting in unison as they moved in unison together.

Tramp's mind was a daze as he gave himself to his first lover. This was so much more pleasurable than it had been with Reggie. The way Buster felt inside him, his nicely sized maleness filled his insides, pressing deeper as his knot soon would swell and fill him too. Tramp shut his eyes and pushed back, wanting to feel Buster's love seed deep inside of him. He moaned and whined, clenching on Buster's cock.

A flood of pleasure washed over Buster, his face scrunched as he thrust faster into his old friend, violating him and drawing shameless sounds from the other canine. Tramp's vocalizations was music to Buster's ears, urging him on, his tip spearing and hitting that one spot deep inside of him, making his victim whimper and bend to his will. Tramp was under his control, and knowing that one sole spot inside of Tramp would turn him from that a smug, suave mutt into nothing more than a whimpering bitch boosted Buster's already bloated ego.

During all of this, every ounce of pleasure was becoming unbearable to Tramp. His cock dangled between his legs, bouncing with every thrust Buster could give to him. His balls churned with every passing moment. His tongue hung out of his mouth, panting as he scrunched up his face as his balls pulled closer to his body. He threw his head back just at the point of climax.

"BU-BU-BUSTER!!!" he howled up to the moon as his cock began to spasm, a massive volley of canine jizz shot between his legs and painted the ground, followed by rope after rope.

Buster continued his relentless assault, slamming into Tramp. The tight ring around his partially formed knot was so hot and stretching out, and Buster showed no signs or intentions of stopping for Tramp's climax. His humping became more urgent as he pressed in harder until the ring gave way and the front of his knot popped into the mutt. Buster barked and bit right onto Tramp's scruff, his teeth breaking the skin, just enough to leave a mating mark that had once been there. He felt the familiar rush of his knot filling out fully, his balls bumping against his enemy's rump as he let loose. He unloaded his pent up seed inside of Tramp as he hugged the mutt closer, gently licking the back of the other dogs neck.

Tramp panted, exhausted and guilty. He had abandoned his best friend for Lady, and now he had given himself back to his former pack mate and with that he had cheated on Lady... twice in the past day. He hated the fact that he loved every moment spent being fucked.

Neither said anything as Buster's knot remained tied with Tramp. They just panted, waiting for it to die down. Neither knew what to say. After twenty minutes Buster broke the silence.

"Alright... gonna pull out now Champ..." the Doberman said at the same time he lifted a hine leg and turned around, butt to butt with the gray mutt and popped his bone out of the Tramp.

Tramp winced in slight pain, but breathed with relief, his hole clenching as Buster's cum ran down his taint and balls. "Aahhh... that smarts." He looked back at Buster who walked back around next to beside him. "I guess I should head home now."

"Tramp..." Buster wanted to ask Tramp to stay, but thought against it. "Do you think I could walk you home... or at least a block away?"

Tramp nodded and they began an awkward walk back to the Dear residence. As they turned the final corner they stopped, the dark house just down the road.

"I used to sit across the street every day for the first month." Buster admitted, plopping down on his rump. "Hoping you would get bored of being indoors all the time. And then when that bi--" he stopped himself from calling Lady a derogatory term, for Tramp's sake. "When she got pregnant, I knew that was it."

Tramp sat down on his haunches next to the Doberman and sighed. "There were times I wanted to leave. I missed being out here on the streets, running from dogcatchers, saving your ass."

They both laughed and then looked away.

"I should be heading back now." Tramp said, "If Pidge wakes up and I'm not there... she'll worry." The gray mutt completely missed the look of hurt that crossed the Doberman's features as he got up and started down the street alone.

"Tramp," Buster barked and made a step forward. He stopped and looked down as the mutt turned around to look. "Do you ever think... there's a family out there for me?" the black and tan junkyard alpha asked, his ears folding and a sigh escaped under his breath. He felt stupid for asking it, after all this time of being so against it.

"Everyone has a family, you just have to find it," Tramp smiled as the dog asked him a very personal question. "And you'll always have me. Junkyard brothers."

The Doberman paused and looked at Tramp, he couldn't cry now. Not in front of Tramp. "You're always looking at your family."

"Hey, Bus..." Tramp stepped forward and nuzzled him tenderly. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. His stomach felt like there were butterflies as he looked at his friend. "I'm always here for you. Come around sometime." Tramp smiled one last time before he turned back and walked back to the house.

Buster stood there in silence, watching the gray mutt walk back to the house, grinning to himself as he could still see Tramp's dripping tailhole. He had the feeling things would be okay as he turned to go back to his domain. He didn't need the junkyard dogs, he would find his own family soon.

~FIN~