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Sheep-Dog

Chapter 2 - A Strange New World

Bobby rushed home after speaking with the Teeswater elder. When he arrived he found his parents huddled in the kitchen area of their shack, crying. When she saw her boy his mother's sobs doubled in volume.

"Duncan Dorset has told you of their decision?"

"Yes." His father choked out.

Bobby's mother stood up, scuttled over to the door and threw her arms about him.

"I'm never going to see my little Prince again." She sobbed.

She often called him 'her Prince' since as far back as he could recall, and each time she did his father would shush her with a warning about being overheard. Bobby knew there was a story behind the nickname but had not cared enough to ask about it before. Now it seemed vitally important that he know before he left home forever.

"Why do you call me that Mother?"

"Oh, it's not important." She sniffled.

"Tell me. I'd really like to know."

She didn't respond at first but looked to his father, who peeked out the window to see if anyone was about before nodding to her.

"Our ancestors used to have noble names like Rex and Duke or Queenie and Lady. But then the sheep passed that law banning aggressive or ridiculous names. At first hey just used it to keep canines from being named Killer or Gnasher and the sort, or Bingo and Fluffbottom or similar. But then they started changing regular names to others that suited their mood. Proud flocks like the Dorset have a particular dislike for noble names because it reminds them of when the Wolf King was in charge."

She wiped her eyes and continued. "When you were born you looked so perfect I wanted to name you Prince, but Duncan Dorset forbade it. He chose the name Bobby because it sounded more 'tame and subservient'. Those were his very words as he stood over me while I cuddled you for the first time. 'Call him Bobby.' He said. 'No one named Bobby ever gives any trouble'. I was so ashamed."

Bobby was stunned to learn that his name brought shame to his mother so soon after receiving the bad news about being sent away. He turned to his father with his mouth hanging open.

"Now, now Bob- ... son. It's not such a bad name. There was a famous ball player named Bobby who was very competitive and aggressive, against other dogs anyway."

Some dogs were obsessed with the ball games and followed them religiously, but Bobby was not one of them, so he was not comforted.

"It's a lot to take in." He said. "Loosing Ronnie, getting sent away, being named by a sheep, having to join the army ..."

"The Army!" His mother wailed.

Bobby's father shook his head as he comforted his mate. Ten he turned to Bobby. "You're not being sent to join the army. Who told you that?"

"Well, Ambrose Teeswater said that I was being sent to Areisborough, and that is where the army is, so I assumed ..."

His father looked relieved. "Ah, I see. Well, don't worry, Duncan Dorset has been working on something else for you, that is why it took so long to get the news. He has a lot of connections in the Capital and proud as he is he can't see any of his dogs going to fill the rank and file of the army. Instead he has secured a position for you with the city Watch."

Bobby thought about that. Here in the countryside the village Watch was usually a couple of old dogs that couldn't keep up in the fields anymore but still had enough strength and skill to break up a fight or hustle a drunken pig out of town. They were there mainly to keep order, but if the miscreant was a sheep they had to tread carefully. Rams that over-imbibed were to be escorted gently home and restrained only in the case of extreme belligerence, with their Elder being informed immediately. They also settled disputes between the species and the non-sheep merchants, mainly the foxes.

About the most exciting thing that ever happened on the local Watch was when someone spotted a wolf prowling about. Then the Watch would form a posse and go looking for it, but to Bobby's knowledge they never caught one.

The Capital was probably different though, Bobby supposed. They had banks there to protect and the Assembly to guard. There might be crimes worth investigating there, or threats to Pastoria to quell. Despite his recent disappointments his loyalty still ran deep, and the thought of protecting not just a portion of the Dorset flock but the nation as a whole appealed to him. There was sure to be a few families of Collies there working for the sheep leaders in their mansions or in the trades. They would have daughters and they were bound to welcome a dog like him with strong country bloodlines into the family.

Maybe, he thought, the move to Areisborough would work out for him. That gave him another thought.

"Does Ronnie know about me leaving?"

"I heard that she's locked herself in the tool shed at the Teeswater farm and is refusing to come out."

"Oh. Do you think I should go over there and try to talk her out?"

"No." His father answered. "You best stay away from the Teeswater farm. Come with me to the common room and we'll discuss your travel arrangements."

Bobby had never been farther away from home than he could run in a few hours. He had assumed that he would have to walk to the Capital because his folks did not have enough money to purchase a ticket on the coach, but as they sat in the common room on the Dorset farm that night his father told him that Duncan Dorset had kindly offered to pay the fare.

"In the open coach, I'll bet." Sid, the cat who supposedly spent his time catching rats and other pests on the farm interrupted.

"Well, closed coach is very expensive." Bobby's father explained. "But the open coach is just a s quick, and the weather is good this time of year. You can bring a small tarp to shelter under if it rains."

"If the Dorset will let you take one, that is." Sid injected.

Bobby was used to the cat's cynicism. Sid and his sister Sue, who he shared the pest control duty with, were the most disloyal creatures he had ever met. But what the feline had said was true. Bobby's family did not own much.

They were not slaves, they were free to come and go, or go, if there was anywhere to go. They earned a small wage for providing protection on the farm but from that the Dorset deducted the cost of their room and board and their work clothes. What little was left over went for a treat like fresh meat, which the sheep did not provide, nice clothes for socializing in and the occasional beer at the pub.

None of the dogs owned any land. They had no need to when they worked as overseers for the wolves and since the sheep immediately took them back on the farms they did not need to afterwards either. After the revolution the sheep that filled the Assembly divided up the land amongst the flocks, with small portions set aside for the goats. Everyone else either lived on the farms or leased land from the sheep. The land and buildings in the villages and towns were the property of the local municipal council, which were all run by sheep. Creatures that lived in town and worked in a shop or provided services, like the horses that ran the Blacksmith shop, payed rent to the municipal council for their homes and shops. In lieu of taxes the rent was based on the amount of income the business or household earned, leaving very little for luxuries.

It was not much of a life, Bobby thought, but it was better than some, the pigs for instance, who had just come back from cleaning out the privy behind the main house.

"Hey!" Bobby's father shouted at them. "Wash that sh- stuff off before coming in here."

"Yeah, yeah. Just passing through." The lead pig said, pointing to the door to the washroom as they continued to shuffle across the common room.

"Go around next time." Sid, who was fastidious about his grooming called.

"Where's your sister tonight?" Bobby's father asked the cat.

"Out caterwauling."

"Hey, not in front of the kid."

Sid looked over at Bobby. "He's an adult now. He Should know about these things."

"No one needs to know about you or your sister's feline ways."

"Wait 'til he gets to the city. That place will open his eyes, I bet."

"Bobby is going to report to the Chief Guard, Commander Festus, who will assign him a post on the City Watch. Commander Festus is one of the most loyal, righteous dogs in Pastoria and he runs a tight ship. He won't let Bobby be exposed to the base elements of the city."

"Yeah, right."

The coach was due to pass by the day after Bobby heard he was leaving and there was a lot to do to prepare. His mother wanted him to have clean clothes in good repair so she went into a frenzy of sewing and washing. His father was on duty in the fields so Bobby had to pack his own duffle and see the Dorset about what things he was allowed to take from the farm. In the end they gifted him one set of work clothes, enough food for the journey, a small tarp and one blanket to sleep under because they were not paying for him to sleep at the Inns along the way, and a pair of shoes.

Like most of the creatures in the rural areas Bobby did not wear shoes. His feet were four-toed paws with thick pads and claws that were good for running in the fields and on the earthen trails. The horses, pigs, cows and sheep had hoofs that dug into the soft ground and the cats had small delicate paws that they hated to get wet, but which gave them great agility when hunting pests. But in the bigger villages and towns, the Dorset Supply Manager explained, the streets were paved with rough stone or gravel and shoes were necessary, and sanitary.

"They use the gutters for toilets." The Manager explained. "Mister Duncan would not have one of his dogs showing up looking and smelling like a bumpkin. You can get away with having your feet smell like grass and mud around here but in the city one does not expose their feet to the type of dirt that covers the streets there. We have a number of old pairs of shoes that should do, from when we had to send your ancestors into the mountains to chase down wolves. Go try on a few and take the ones that fit best. Walk around in them a little every day until your feet get used to them or you'll get blisters."

Between gathering stores and packing them Bobby had no time to go to the Teeswater farm to say goodbye to Ronnie. Her father came into town though on the day the coach was due to shake his paw and make his regrets that that things didn't work out for them.

"Has she come out of the tool shed yet?" Bobby asked.

"No." The elder Sheltie replied curtly, and then turned and walked away.

"He's upset because her behavior does not reflect well on their family." Bobby's father told him as the watched the Sheltie walk away.

The coaches passed in either direction every fourth day. There were two of them, a closed coach for First Class passengers and an open one for luggage and servants. Each was pulled by a team of four large breed horses. Bobby's father told him that the horses could trot all day but that they would change teams each night so that they could rest and recover for a day before taking a return coach back where they came from. That way they covered as much ground as possible without killing the horses.

The first coach to arrive was the closed, first-class coach and when it stopped several sheep stepped out to stretch their legs. Through the open door Bobby glimpsed comfortable upholstered seats. The second coach arrived a few minutes later, probably because it had been dry lately and the they were keeping back to let the dust from the first coach settle. It was open, so there was no protection from the dust or rain, with rough wooden benches in the front and open cargo space in the back. There were no sheep riding in it, just a couple of dogs that were probably working for the sheep in the first coach, providing some protection against the unlikely but not unheard-of chance of highway robbery. They confirmed his guess when he scrambled up beside them just before the coaches departed.

The trip to the capital took fives days and Bobby found it very exciting. The rolling hills and meadows gave way to vast river valleys and then plains. The towns got larger and his fellow passengers became more diverse. They passed through districts he had only heard of before. Each night when the sheep in the first coach retired to the inn the other species from the second coach camped out in an area set aside for them and foot travellers. There Bobby listened in fascination to tales from the far corners of Pastoria and, on the occasion that a fox joined them around the campfire, from beyond its borders.

"So, you claim that Germany was once an actual place and not just a breed name for German Shepherds?" A Ruff Collie asked skeptically. "Was there also a land called 'Ruff' where my kind originate from?" The group of mostly dogs laughed at that and the fox, offended, went off to sit by himself. Bobby wished that he had not because, true or not, he found the fox's stories fascinating.

On the fifth day the coaches entered Ariesborough. First, they passed through an area occupied by large mansions surrounded by gardens that reminded Bobby of the fine homes the sheep lived in on the farms. One of the other passengers who lived in Ariesborough and was just returning confirmed that this was where the senior sheep from each breed lived, the ones on the Assembly and those who held senior positions in the bureaucracy. That was followed by lane after lane of small houses and huts, all wait out rather haphazardly.

"This is where the servants, clerks and labourers who are not house staff live." The older dog told Bobby. "Close enough to get to work on foot but not close enough that the smell can bother the sheep at home or in their offices."

Bobby had to admit that whatever served for a sewer system in that neighbourhood was not doing a good job and he was glad when they left it to enter the heart of the city.

Bobby had never seen so many buildings, streets or shops. There were tea shops and shoe shops and shops just for hats. There were trade schools and law firms and multi-story buildings just for accountants. There were banks and bakeries and barber shops where a ram could get his wool trimmed around the eyes or an ewe could have the locks on her head dyed in the latest fashion. And the streets teemed with sheep of many breeds, more than he had ever seen in his life. He was sure that he would get lost among them in no time.

There were other species on the streets other than sheep, he noticed, but they were mostly walking close to the walls with their heads down, trying not to be noticed. Some dogs were carrying parcels for the sheep that were shopping. Others were making deliveries or sweeping the walkways in front of the stores. Rough clad labourers kept to the alleys and back ways so as not to brush up against a sheep and soil their cloths through contact.

"It's a crime to interfere with a citizen going about their business." The old dog beside him said in a dry voice. "Thing is, only the sheep seem to ever get interfered with. Most of 'em will just give you a nasty look if you bump into 'em but there are a fair number that will have you charged and disciplined for it. Word of advice, keep your head down, stay out of their way and don't talk back."

Before bobby could absorb all that, the coaches pulled up in front of an impressive but imposing building. It was all white and several stories tall with columns made in the images of different breeds of sheep.

"The assembly." His seatmate informed him as he scrambled to collect his master's bags from the back. "Them statues represents the breeds that led the rebellion. Your Dorset are there, as well as the Leicester, Suffolk, Norfolk and Lincoln, and a few others round the back. No dogs though."

Bobby gathered his things and got down. He had been told that the office of the Chief Guard was around the side, where the servant's entrance was. He followed several other dogs headed that way up a narrow alley and into a foyer where he found a sign directing him to the proper office.

The office of the Chief Guard had a receptionist, a harried looking Corgi. Bobby waited his turn to speak with her. When it came he passed the sealed note addressed to Commander Festus that Duncan Dorset had given his father for Bobby to deliver. The Corgi read the writing on the outside which stated that the letter was to be only opened by the Chief Guard. She laughed and, much to Bobby's alarm, broke the seal.

She read the contents of the letter. "Oh yeah, you're the pup that the Dorset Rep on the Assembly has been on to us about."

"Yes. The Dorset Elder said that I was to report to the Commander personally to receive my assignment."

"Listen bub, the only time you get to see the Commander 'personally' is when you're important or so deep in shit that only your ears is showing. Now, you ain't important enough but if you keep wasting my time you may get in enough shit to warrant a 'personal' appointment."

She gave him a look that let him know just how low he was in her esteem and he wisely acceded. "Do you know what my assignment is, Missus .... ?"

Her demeanour changed as she leaned over the reception desk and batter her eyes up at him. "Angel. MISS Angel." She looked him up and down, lingering on his strong thighs where they stuck out of his shorts and his broad shoulders. "Say, you are fresh off the farm, ain'tcha?"

Bobby was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Uhm, yes. Ah, could I have my assignment ... please?"

"Sure, sweetie. Let me see, where did I put that? Ah! Here it is."

She read the papers she had pulled out the tray on her desk. "You lucky dog. You're being assigned to Bayfield."

"Mayfield?"

"No, BAY-field. It's the most prestigious institution for female lambs in the nation."

Bobby had imagined that he would be patrolling the city arresting miscreant cats or drunken swine but hoped that he would soon work his way up to investigating real crimes, but ... "A girl's school?"

"Not just any girl's school, chum, THE girls school. Only the daughters of the richest and most powerful rams in the most influential flocks are admitted. They go there to get 'refined', to be 'finished', as they say. In short, they go in innocent little lambs and come out full-grown ewes fit to be wives for the elite. Here's a map of the city with the school marked on it." She passed over another sheet of paper. "Danny is the head dog there. You report to him."

Bobby took the map reluctantly. "Great. Just great."

"Don't knock it until you try it." Angel said with a wink and a leer that baffled Bobby. "This is a real plum of an assignment and you only got it because the big rams want their own loyal dogs watching over their future wives. But if it isn't for you ..." She paused to let her eyes roam over his country-toned body as she licked her chops. "... if you get lonely that is, just come back here at closing time and you can tell Angel alllll about it ... at her place."

"Umm, yes. Thanks ... for the advice, I mean. I'll, uhm ... just thanks." Bobby made his exit before he committed himself to anything, wincing as she laughed behind him.

"Catch you later, country boy." She called as he fled.

Out on the street Bobby found an isolated corner where he wasn't likely to be bumped into and studied the map. He had always been good with maps and directions and finding his way so it only took a moment to memorize his route, and then he set off.

His path took him out of the city centre and through the slums where the species serving the sheep lived. He had to traverse the upper-class neighbourhood and was stopped twice by the City Watch, demanding to know his business there. When he showed them the paper with his orders on them they frowned as if robbed of the opportunity to do their duty and sent him on his way.

The school was located in the rolling countryside several miles outside of the city. It was surrounded by a stone wall that was topped with broken glass. At the front gate he had to show his papers again.

"Danny is probably in his office." The guard said and then told him how to find it. "Knock first." He called as Bobby headed toward the main building.

Bayfield school was almost as imposing as the Assembly building, but more colourful. It had a set of stone steps leading to a columned entrance and two pale yellow brick wings where Bobby assumed that the classrooms were. Off to one side we're buildings and fields for sports and on the other there was a three-story dormitory. He wondered where the guard barracks was and guessed that it would be in the back, out of sight.

Entering the building he showed his papers to another guard who pointed the way to the Security Office. "Knock first." he said, winking. Bobby wondered if the grit in the air from all the coal fires was affecting everyone's eyes.

At the Security office Bobby raised his paw to knock but noticed that the door was not fully closed. He was wondering if he should still knock when he heard a low moan from inside. Someone was hurt! Maybe this was an important post after all, a place where the threat of violence and intrusion was real and the danger was imminent.

His senses went into high alert and he slipped through the partially opened door, wishing that he had a sword or a at least a club in case the intruder was still inside. Looking around he spotted an iron doorstop and he picked it up. Raising it up over his head he slipped toward the open door of the inner office, where the soft moaning was coming from.

Bobby tilted his head so that's his long snout would not give him away and looked around the edge of the door to assess the situation. What he saw almost made him drop the iron weight on his own foot.

Leaning against a desk that dominated the room was a tall, handsome Doberman. His uniform shirt was open down the front and his trousers were puddled around his ankles. Kneeling in front of him was a young ewe, barely more than a lamb, a Shropshire from the white tuft of wool on her black head and her black hands. She was wearing a uniform that consisted of a white blouse, a black jacket, a blue plaid skirt and black stockings. It would normally have covered her from neck to wrist and ankle, but the jacket and blouse were open to expose a chest sheared down to the skin and two large breasts tipped with pink nipples that swayed as she moved.

She was moving back and forth, he noted, and the reason she was doing so was because she had the Doberman's cock on her mouth and was loudly sucking on it as her head bobbed up and down.

He stood, mostly frozen in place except for the arm that held the weight aloft. That he slowly lowered until it hung by his side. Half his head was probably visible to the two creatures inside the inner office by now, but he could not bring himself to pull it back. Instead he stood with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he took it all in.

It was the Doberman who's moaning he had heard. Now that he was closer he recognized the sound as something like the noises he had made that afternoon with Ronnie in the far fields. It came not from pain so much as an ache, and ache he had only experienced that once, and ache that demanded a release.

The ewe was making soft noises also, but they sounded more like encouragement than pleasure to Bobby, as if she was urging the Doberman on. Perhaps she was, because as she sucked and slid her lips along his cock she was also rubbing his shaft with her digits and caressing his balls with her other hand.

It seemed to be working because the Doberman was developing a knot just above his sheath that was making it harder for her to stoke him. Instead she concentrated on taking as much of his shaft as she could down her throat, even to the point where she was trying to wrap her lips around his growing knot.

"Don't do that." He advised her. "You could choke on it."

Bobby did not know if that was true or not, he had not even imagined anyone using their mouth like that, but his knot did look large enough to fill her short-muzzled maw. She must have thought so too because she abandoned the effort in favour of licking his cock and teasing the pointy tip with her tongue.

Fascinated, Bobby had grown very hard himself and he could feel a few drops of moisture that had leaked out into his undergarments. I'm going to have to rinse those tonight he thought. He was tempted to pull his prick out and finish the job but was too afraid that he might get caught. But he didn't look away either.

In the inner office the dog was grunting in an effort to hold on and the ewe had redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head on the last couple inches of his cock rapidly while she stroked the portion above his knot just as rapidly. Suddenly he sucked in a deep breath between clenched teeth and arched his back as she sealed her lips around his shaft. His hips jerked and the veins on his cock stood out as he emptied himself into her mouth.

She took it all in with her eyes closed, squeezing his shaft to get the last few drops out. A trickle of white sponge escaped from the corner of her mouth and she wiped it with one digit, leaving his shaft long enough to suck the cum off her finger. Then she swallowed and went back to milking his shaft.

Bobby's paws had moved to his crotch of their own volition and he was squeezing his erection in time with her lapping tongue. He hastily pulled them away before he did more than mark his undergarments with a few drops of pre-cum. I should get out of here now, he told himself, before they recover enough to look around.

But he was too late. The ewe was smiling up at the tall Doberman and she playfully squeezed his knot twice, saying "Beep, Beep" as she did. The Doberman, however, was looking out of the corner of his eyes directly at Bobby. His mouth was parted in what Bobby interpreted as an evil grin that showed long sharp teeth.

Bobby was locked in place by the dog's steely-eyed stare for what seemed like a very long time, until the Doberman winked at him. Then his toothy grin transformed into something less sinister and more lecherous. It broke the spell Bobby was under and he beat a hasty retreat out of the office, closing the outer door securely behind him.

He took shelter in an alcove with a bench just down the hall from the Security Office. A few minutes after he sat down to compose himself the door opened and the ewe strode out, Holding some sort of paper in her hand. She didn't even glance at him as she passed. Bobby noted that her uniform blouse and jacket were back in place, although they did seem rather tight. He leaned forward and watched her swaying backside retreat down the hall, her puffy white tail swinging proudly.

"You wanted to see me?"

The voice, which came from directly behind his head, startled Booby so badly he further soiled his undergarments with something that wasn't pre-cum. He leapt to his feet and twirled to see the Doberman looming over him with that same toothy grin.

"Yes sir." He said nervously, holding out his orders with one paw and saluting with the other. "Bobby Collie reporting for duty Sir!"

The Doberman laughed instead of returning the salute. 'Oh, my Lord. They weren't kidding when they told me you were fresh from the farm. Usually dogs assigned here have spent some time on a town Watch or in the army, but you ... you take the cake." He spun on his heel and headed back to the Security Office. "Come with me."

Bobby was not sure if he should drop the salute but once the Doberman was out of sight he let his arm go slack. He hurried to catch up, stopping to knock on the door of the inner office before entering.

"A little late for that, don't you think?"

Before Bobby could answer the Doberman indicated that he should sit in the chair opposite the desk. Bobby sat.

"Uhm, about that ... that ..."

"Episode? Interlude? Liaison? Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have left the outer door open, and I should thank you for not interrupting. Betty Sue gives some of the best head around, and I've been around. I'm Danny, the senior dog here, but I prefer to be called Dan." He stood up and adjusted his trousers. "Sorry, the knot still hasn't gone down and it was getting tangled in my undergarments." The Doberman paused and looked concerned. "What's wrong Collie? You look faint."

"It's just that I've had to absorb a lot today. Rules of behaviour around the sheep, a Corgi that I think was propositioning me and now ....," he gestured to where the Doberman had been standing while the ewe sucked his cock, ".... all this."

The Doberman shook his head and rolled his eyes skyward as if to ask the gods why he had to suffer so. "Angel can be a bit ... aggressive, but if you're looking for a soft bed and a hard fuck she's the girl for you. Don't get too attached though; she goes through pups like you by the dozen. As for Betty Sue, we work on the barter system here, you see. She wanted to stay out after hours and I did her a favour in return for another sort of favour. But don't think you can start off trading sex to look the other way when one of them breaks curfew. You have to earn that privilege. Until then you bring them to me, see?"

It was all too much for Bobby to absorb. "Yes, Sir." He said weakly.

"Good ..." Dan looked down at the orders he was holding. "... Bobby. Cute name. You can go by Bob if you like."

"No, Sir. Bobby is fine."

"Alright Bobby." Dan leaned back in his chair and pulled at his groin again. "I think that you're going to like it here."