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Sheep-Dog

Chapter 1 - An Engagement of Sorts

"Bobby! Bobby Collie! Wait up!"

Bobby looked over his shoulder when the familiar voice called to him. It was Ronnie Sheltie, his neighbour and closest friend. She was also the closest thing he had to a girl friend, although they had never done more than hold paws or share the occasional hug. He stopped and waited for her.

Bobby was a Border Collie, mostly black but with white lower limbs, chest and neck. Like many of his breed he had a white streak down the middle of his face extending around his muzzle, which was punctuated by his black nose. His breed was common here in the district closest to the wild territories and were named for their stalwart protection of the border. Ronnie, on the other paw, was a Shetland, a breed that originated in the northern islands. They were rare in these parts. Her thick fur was black, gold and white.

Booby thought that her long pointed snout and turned-down ears were cute. He hoped that one day they would become a breeding pair, if they were permitted, but he had to admit that it was more likely he would be mated with one of his second-cousins to reinforce the genes that made his breed such loyal and reliable shepherds here in the borderlands. The Shetlands tended to be smaller and it was important to his employers that their dogs be large enough to take on the coyotes and the occasional wolf. But one could always dream.

That is, he thought, if I ever get to breed at all.

Ronnie ran up but stopped a few paces away from Bobby and studied his face. Her smile dissolved into a look of concern when she noted the droop of his tail and the slope of his eyebrows.

"You've had bad news," she guessed, "about staying on the Dorset Farm."

"Yes. They have enough dogs to guard the flock. I have a fortnight to find another placement otherwise I will have to leave the district."

Ronnie rushed to him and gave him a hug that he did not return at first. Bobby was still shocked by the decision that Duncan Dorset, the senior ram of the Dorset clan, had passed down to him though his father.

In the settled lands, dubbed Pastoria by the sheep that made up more than ninety-five percent of the population, animals had strictly enforced roles in life. The sheep lived in huge communities called flocks and ran most of the farms. Dogs guarded the flocks and their farms, keeping marauding coyotes and raiding wolves at bay. But each flock only needed so many dogs, and when a canine family breed more than what was required to sustain that number the younger pups had to find employment elsewhere.

The Dorset flock was huge, and they farmed most of the district, but Bobby's parents were not alone on the farm, several other branches of the family also stood watch on the flock. In addition to numerous cousins Bobby had two older brothers as well as an older sister, who would one day be assigned a mate and leave to live with him. Even without her the two males would be enough to replace Bobby's parents, especially as one or both of his brothers would likely be assigned mates and then they would bear puppies and so the cycle would continue.

After a minute standing stiffly in Ronnie's arms Bobby began to relax. He leaned against her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling the thick fur of her ruff as he sighed deeply.

"Better?"

"A little."

She smiled up at him. "Come with me. I have an idea."

Bobby let her lead him by the paw along the path he had been following. It wound through old stands of maple and oak that overlooked the open fields and meadows that the sheep tended. There were none working in this area today, but as he was not required to guard the fields they were toiling in he had decided to come out her alone to check the fences and walls along the border, or so he told himself. He had really come to be alone in his misery.

Ronnie stopped at a bench under an oak that overlooked the furthest fields of the Dorset farm. She sat and indicated that he should do so too.

They sat in silence for a time, her paw clasped in his, looking at the trees decked out in their fine spring greenery and the daffodils that still lingered in the cool shady spots.

"You know," he said, "the countryside here is so beautiful and familiar. I'm going to miss it if I have to leave."

"Maybe you won't have to." Ronnie said, squeezing his paw tighter.

"How so?"

"You know that my parents are very old."

"Yesss ...." It was true. Ronnie had come to them late in life, after most couples had stopped breeding. All of her sisters and brothers were much older than her and all had left before she had been born; the females for breeding assignments and the males for better jobs with other flocks. The Teeswater for who they worked were a small flock with little land that only needed a couple of dogs to stand guard over them while they worked.

"Well, they have been thinking of retiring. I asked them if the Teeswater would consider bringing in a new dog to work with them until they do and Father thought that there was a good chance, especially if he were a prospective mate for me. That way the Teeswater would have at least one familiar dog around while they got used to the newcomer."

Bobby considered the idea.

The Teeswater were a strange bunch, compared to the Dorset, who he had grown up around. The Dorset were large, hornless, all white sheep with thick curly wool. The Teeswater had black limbs, ears and faces and wool that fell in long twisted braids that could touch the ground between each shearing. Like their Shetland guards they were not from around here, but Ronnie had only ever had good things to say about them. Perhaps, unlike the Dorset, they would be willing to allow a mixed-breed pairing.

The Dorset were an old breed that had long lived in these parts. Their dog of choice for guarding their farms was the Border Collie, and they controlled the canine's breeding as strictly as they did their own.

It had not always been so. Several hundred years ago the land that was now Pastoria was part of the Territories and controlled by wolves. They ruled by might and right of arms, forcing the farming species to turn over the best portion of the fruit of their labours as taxes for the wolves' protection.

"Protection from what?" A student would likely ask when their History teacher recounted the tales.

"Why from the wolves, of course."

It was during that feudal age that the roles the species performed in society were established. Sheep and goats worked the farms. Dogs, regarded as a lower form of canine by the wolves, were assigned to watch over the flocks to ensure that the sheep and goats were working as hard as they could, and to keep coyotes away. Cows, with their huge breasts that gave abundant milk, produced dairy products and cheese. Horses performed manual labour and seemed happy enough about it. Pigs cleaned up the streets and cleaned out the privies and sewers and did not complain, not out loud in any event. Cats, an aloof and vain species in Bobby's opinion, were supposed to maintain pest control but could often be found sleeping in the sun or loitering near the fish stalls at the market. Foxes were the only species that were allowed to roam free, mostly because only they knew the secret routes over which they brought trade goods from far away lands.

This went on for hundreds of years, during which the dogs formed a bond with the sheep they oversaw. When the sheep, which outnumbered all others, rose up in revolt the dogs joined them while the other species cowered in their shacks and waited for the outcome. When the dust settled and the wolves had been run off the sheep rewarded the dogs by allowing them to remain on the sheep farms as guards and protectors. Goats still farmed but without the benefit of canine protection. The rest retained their traditional roles but now they were ruled by an elected government under a system of 'one Creature, One Vote'.

It seemed fair, at first, but the others soon realized that with sheep outnumbering everyone else more than ten-to-one the likelihood of any other species being elected to the Pastoria Assembly was slim to none. Still, it was good to be out from under the oppressive paw of the wolves. They had rights, like the right to move about freely, the right to speak out against injustice and the right to be heard at a tribunal.

But after a few generations the sheep-dominated assembly had started making new rules, imposing their ways on the other species. The right to move about was restricted to those with a pass from the District Overseer. Speaking out against a sheep was allowed, but there was no protection from the sudden unemployment and other repercussions that brought. One could still be heard at tribunal, either in person or through a representative, but as one ovine Judge put it "there is no rule saying that we have to listen".

Besides dominating the Government, the sheep were also different from most species in that there was a large variance between the number of males and females born in each flock; less than one lamb in ten was male. Fighting the wolves, who were still keen on regaining lost territory, was dangerous work so in order to protect the precious few rams the rules were changed so that dogs filled the rank and file of the army while the sheep acted as Officers.

With so few rams each one was almost guaranteed to have several wives, although in practice it was the more important rams, the political leaders and flock elders, that had the most. They also had first choice of the ewes just coming of age, but only within their flock.

Among themselves the sheep maintained strict breeding rules, rarely allowing crossbreeding to occur. Such forced breeding by the wolves had resulted in the Dorset losing their horns, something they still resented, and a breed know as the Gotland acquired a silver-grey wool when the wolves forced black and white sheep to breed. The liberated sheep kept meticulous records of who had breed with whom and tracked their genealogy back to the time of the revolution.

Legislation was passed requiring all the other species to adopt the same breeding policies, for the good of Pastoria they claimed. The sheep running the farms just kept the records at first, but soon they were also given the power to decide who would become breeding pairs. In the end, they were even granted the authority to approve the naming of all their employees' offspring, "least frivolous parents bestow an aggressive or ridiculous name such as their masters might be loath to use" the new law read.

In short, Bobby and Ronnie would only be allowed to breed if the sheep their families worked for approved of the union.

Bobby considered his chances with the Dorset flock and judged them to be zero. The Dorset was one of the strictest flocks in the land. The Teeswater were an unknown quantity but if they were willing to allow him to understudy Ronnie's parents they might be willing to allow the pairing of two different breeds.

But the thought made him uneasy. The Collies were a loyal breed and none more loyal than the Border Collies that worked the Dorset farms.

"Gee, Ronnie. I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't bother."

Ronnie's brows came together in an angry 'vee' that Bobby knew meant she was determined to get what she wanted. What she wanted at the moment, apparently, was him.

The frown left her face as quickly as it had come. She snuggled closer to him on the bench and placed a paw on his thigh, squeezing it through the rough material of his trousers.

"Why, Bobby Collie, don't you want to stay here in the borderlands with me?"

"S- sure I do, Ronnie. You're a great girl."

She leaned against him, half turning so that she could place her other paw on his opposite thigh.

She looked up at him and batted her long lashes. "Just a 'great girl'? Don't you have any feelings for me?"

"Well, I ... ugh ... I feel ... very strongly that ... I like you, Ronnie."

The frown returned. "Oh, I think we can do better than that."

She swung around so that she was squatting on the ground between his knees. With a paw still on each of his legs she began to rub them up and down his thighs. With each iteration her paws turned farther in and reached farther up until her digits were brushing his parts.

"Ronnie ... what are you doing?"

"Shush."

She stood, her head just slightly higher than the seated collie. Then she leaned forward, opened her long, pointed muzzle and placed her lips over his. Bobby was shocked but responded by opening his jaws and allowing her to seal his mouth with hers. Her long probing tongue found his and they wrestled briefly before she broke off the kiss.

"Do you like that too?"

"Yes."

"How about this?"

She kissed him again but this time she took him by the paws and guided them to her chest. She had on a white blouse and a dark skirt. Bobby could feel her soft breasts through the material of her blouse and the brassiere underneath.

While he squeezed her breasts she undid the buttons on his shirt. Once it was open she pulled it out of the waistband of his trousers and ran her short, sharp claws over his chest. The sensation made Bobby gasp and he felt his nipples grow hard. Hers were straining against the material of her clothes and she began opening her blouse so that Bobby could get his paws in there.

He pulled back to get a good look at her. He had seen her in a bathing suit on several occasions but somehow the view of her open blouse exposing her bare belly and brassiere covered breasts was more erotic. He began to breathe faster as his paws returned to those breasts.

Dare I? He thought as his digits traced the lower edge of her bra. Before he could answer himself they moved of their own accord, slipping under the lacy white material and pushing the cups up until her breasts were exposed.

While she had a long thicker coat of fur on her head, back and tail, like most canines her chest and belly were almost bare. What fur she had there was wispy and white and did nothing to hide her full breasts or the hard, dark nipples that crowned them.

Bobby could not resist. he leaned forward and kissed each one. Then he licked them, and finally sucked gently on one while rubbing the other with his thumb.

"Stand up." She ordered with a throaty voice that Bobby had never heard her use before. He obeyed, reluctantly leaving her breasts to kiss her mouth as she fumbled with his belt buckle and the buttons on his high-waisted trousers.

He felt his trousers drop to his knees and then he felt her warm paws searching under the waistband of his underpants. A moment later she pulled them down also, exposing his sheath and releasing the rod of hard red flesh that had been trapped inside it by the constraining clothing.

Long and pointed it rose out of him, hard and slick. Ronnie wrapped a paw around it and stroked it slowly until it was fully exposed. He was so excited that the base swelled into a knot after just a few stokes.

"And do you like this?" She whispered in his ear.

"I LOVE this." He gasped, hardly able to believe it was happening.

"And do you love me?"

"Yes, god yes."

"Good. That's the attitude you'll need to convince the Teeswater that we should be mates."

"Yes, we should mate ... I mean we should be mates ... soon."

"Not so fast, Rover. It could take a while before the Teeswater agree, and if you put puppies inside me before that we'll be exiled to opposite ends of Pastoria."

"But ... but we can't stop now ... can we?"

She responded by placing one of his paws under her skirt. She had either come looking for him without any underwear on or had managed to remove them while he was occupied with her breasts. Not that it mattered. The mound she guided his digits to was soft with downy fur and when he touched it he found it damp and hot. Almost instantly it parted, allowing him to sink two digits inside.

He rubbed his paw back and forth over her parts, exploring them inside and out. After a few trips around he noted which areas she trembled at when he touched them and concentrated on those spots, both inside and out.

Moans and gasps escaped their mouths as they continued to kiss and flay each other with their tongues as she stroked his cock and he fingered her mound. She was pinching one of his nipples with her free paw and he was rhythmically squeezing one of her breasts. Bobby was getting close to climaxing and leaned back to draw cool air into his lungs in an attempt to resist. Ronnie sensed what he was doing and she released his shaft. Then she pushed his paw away from her and turned around so her back was to him.

While he caught his breath she gathered up her skirt and held it above her waist. Then she backed against him and began rubbing her firm, round buttocks against his still swollen member. After a few shimmies and shakes she reached through her legs and pulled his cock between them. It was long enough to poke out the other side and thick enough to fit snugly in the triangle between her sex and the tops of her thighs.

Ronnie began to rock back and forth, rubbing the open wet lips of her twat along the length of his shaft. She put a paw down there to hold him against her clit as she moved on him.

Bobby had to bend his knees but soon he matched the rhythm of her hips and took over the duty of drawing his cock in and out between her thighs. Ronnie responded by spreading her legs a little more so he could get his knot right up under her butt checks. She gasped as that hot fist of flesh bumped against her tail hole and squeezed it between her thighs when it had gone as far as it would go.

Bobby had his paws on her hips to hold her steady while he pumped the gap just outside her sweet slash. She had one of hers under his cock pushing it up against her as the other pulled at one of her breasts. Her mouth was open as she alternately moaned and sucked air between clenched teeth as she savoured the sensation of his hot rod on her slick flesh. His hung open also as he breathed fast and deep to keep his strength up.

After a few minutes though he could not take anymore. His head went up and he emitted a low howl as he fought to resist to no avail. Sensing his finish Ronnie angled his cock parallel to the ground while squeezing it hard in her paw. Meanwhile her other paw dropped to her crotch and found the hard button of flesh that she had been massaging with his prick. She rubbed it frantically as Bobby's balls swelled under his knot.

He came harder than he ever remembered coming and long strings of white sponge shot out to fall to the ground many feet away. Wad after wad shot out of his cock, forcing itself through Ronnie's tight grip with electric shocks of pleasure. Before the last drops fell she was coming also, in a burst of clear copper-scented liquid that soaked her paw and warmed his shaft. The smell and the sudden drenching was enough to force out another streamer of cum from his almost depleted balls.

They stood frozen awkwardly with him half squatting and her bent over from the intensity of her orgasm for what seemed to be hours but must have been no more than a minute. Then she released his prick and shuffled forward, allowing him to straighten up and bend his spine back into its normal shape.

Ronnie was careful not to step in the puddles of cum as she turned to face him. he thought that she had never looked so beautiful with her blouse hanging open, her skirt hiked up under her breasts and her fur all in disarray. Ronnie however had to giggle at the sight of Bobby's cock, shiny from her discharge, still pointing straight up above a knot that looked like an angry little red balloon.

He followed her glance. "That is going to take a while to go down." He said somewhat embarrassed

She smiled and stepped up to press against him. "That's okay, we can discuss our mating plans while we wait."

"Mating plans?"

"Sure. We're sort of engaged now, don't you think?"

In the end Bobby agreed to talk to his father about asking Duncan Dorset to give Bobby a recommendation to the Teeswater Elder. At the same time Ronnie would ask her father to broach the subject of the advantages that a Collie - Shetland mix could have in this remote border area.

* * * * * *

The fortnight was almost over and Bobby was getting anxious to hear whether the sheep had agreed to let him work for the Teeswater and possibly become Ronnie's mate. The suspense was making him ache, but it was not just his heart. He and Ronnie were avoiding each other so it would not seem that they were too eager and the memory of the afternoon by the bench made his groin hurt so much he had to slip away and paw off whenever he thought about it.

He had overheard his uncles and older cousins comparing the act of mating to masturbation and they seemed to say that mating was much, much better. If that was the case Bobby could not wait until he and Ronnie could start breeding for real.

Perhaps it was the built-up tension that made him bold enough to approach Ambrose Teeswater, the small flock's elder, when he saw him on the street of the market village that day.

"Ah, yes, the Collie!" Ambrose Teeswater said as he peered at Bobby through long curly locks. "Our Shetland has mentioned you. I consulted the Dorset on this matter and made my decision days ago. I had expected that Duncan Dorset would have talked to you by now."

"Uh, he is a very busy ram, Mister Teeswater." Bobby did not want to say that even the small portion of the Dorset flock that his family worked for was much larger than the entire Teeswater flock, least the old ram take offence and rescind any offer of employment. "Usually he passes his decisions on down through the senior dog to my father. It, ah, can take a while before we get the news."

"Well, normally I would wait until you heard it from him, he is your employer after all, but I don't see how it could hurt if I told you myself."

Bobby leaned forward in anticipation.

"You will not be coming to work for the Teeswater or pair with young Ronnie." The ram said calmly as if he was revealing that there would be no picnic due to inclement weather. "I was in favour after talking to her father, the Teeswater being the product of crossbreeding themselves many generations ago, but when I brought the subject up with Duncan, he convinced me that it would not be in either of our best interests."

Bobby was shocked enough to let a criticism escape. "YOUR best interests?" He said.

The old ram missed the emphasis on the first word and continued speaking as if addressing a child that had just missed out of qualifying for the local sporting team.

"Yes, he showed me some of the breeding records the Dorset keep on their collies and while your family has had strong lines your own statistics are only average. His opinion was that if we were to undertake any crossbreeding, which he is generally against doing in principle, any crossbreeding that is of his Collies and my Shelties that we use only the best of both breeds."

The Teeswater Elder looked at Bobby and shrugged. "So, there you have it. But don't fret," he continued after seeing Bobby's lip tremble, "you'll get over it soon enough what with all the excitement of living in the Capital!"

"The Capital? Ariesborough?"

"Yes, you lucky pup. I believe that Duncan has secured a position for you there. Now run along home and ask your father, he must have the details by now."

Ambrose Teeswater turned his back on Bobby without a second thought. Had he known what was going through the young dog's mind at the moment he might have backed away cautiously. But generations of loyalty breed into him prevented Bobby from doing or saying anything more. Instead he turned and ran, as the elder Teeswater had recommended, as fast as he could to the Dorset farm.

All that he could think of was that dogs that failed to find employment on their own only had one option - to join the army - and the army was located in Ariesborough.