My Wonderful Master

Story by Sleths on SoFurry

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#1 of My Master

It has been a while since the last time I worked directly with the amazing Blackstone in a story idea, hasn't it? Well, these two stories were born from a fun idea we threw around and decided to do. The concept came from his devious mind and he wrote the first part, then I wrote the second following it up to create a setting I ended up enjoying a whole lot!

We decided to try on a different writing perspective with both present tense and first person, which is something neither he or I have done much of. The result is... quite interesting!

Disclaimer: This story was NOT written by me! This one, which is the first part, was written in its entirety by Blackstone even if it's being posted by me to keep them together.

Usual warning, especially when we're together: It contains rough themes of very, very dubious consent! Read the tags before reading to know what you're getting into. If you do enjoy it, though, both he and I enjoy hearing your comments!


My master is wonderful.

I don't remember much from the time before master adopted me as his dog but I do remember drinking a lot and being perpetually angry. These days I'm not angry but rather fulfilled.

Though, sometimes I am lonely when master goes away for a while. Occasionally I'm bored like when I've finished my workout and there's no rooms that need cleaning or food to prepare. And I'm pretty much always horny. But I don't mind because master and I have sex nearly every single day.

I wake up before master but I'm not allowed to nudge him or lick him or jump around until the clock hands move into just the right position. When that happens, I have to sneak up slowly onto the bed, pull back the covers, and very carefully take master's soft black cock into my mouth.

Master is a big white polar bear with a large belly that I get to examine up close while master's cock lays on my tongue. I'm not allowed to move but I don't mind because master smells good. I squirm in place careful not to wake him up. It's hard to hold back because I'm so excited for master to wake up and notice how good I'm being. I'm careful to follow his instructions just right.

Master eventually begins to stir and that's when I'm allowed to suckle. I have to start very softly or master will get angry with me. I keep my mouth still and down all the way as I run my tongue around his penis. He grunts in his sleep and I slow down. The big bellied bear doesn't growl at me so I keep going. When he starts growing hard I smile in excitement. If master saw this he'd call me goofy and laugh at me but I can't help it. When my owner gets excited, I get excited.

My cock stirs in my sheath and then comes out in a hurry. But only a little bit slips out before the top of the metal cage stops it. I feel the cage grip me tight, holding back everything below my swollen red tip from slipping out of my sheath.

My owner's cock keeps growing even as mine strains and fails to do the same. I hold back a moan and don't even hump the mattress. Puppy is a good boy.

Master is a very important person and he needs to wake up just right. I'll help master shower and then make his coffee and breakfast but that comes after the big bear's morning pleasure. His cock is almost all the way hard now and I start to move my lips in the opposite direction as my tongue, back and forth just like master taught me. The polar bear is a perfectionist on the subject of how his penis is treated and it took me many months of practice to perform as instructed without messing up.

He sets his heavy hand on my head, rubbing my ear. I pant happily in response, smearing fresh precum onto the sheets in my excitement. Master is awake and he's happy with me! He uses his grip to pull me all the way down onto his swollen member and I gag softly as it pushes down into my throat.

"Phone, weather report," he calls out, half mumbling the words in his lethargy.

In a strangely robotic voice the phone answers back that there's a chance for rain and then a bunch of complicated stuff I don't understand. As master listens I hold my breath since master's cock is too thick to breathe around when my nose is pushing into his belly like this. Even as I start to go a bit light headed, I'm not scared. Master always lets me back up. Though, sometimes he pulls me right back down after I snort in air so I have to remember to breath quick.

Master's cock feels big in my throat and against my tongue. I like the taste which is lucky for me because my owner really likes me tasting it. Keeping me held down, he shifts my head to the right and runs his hand slowly over my throat, his fingers seeking the bulge that proves how deep he's pushed into me.

"Hows that cock taste, boy? Is my rottweiler enjoying his treat?" he asks, smiling at me from his relaxed position as he enjoys the stuffed expanse of my neck. I smile at him or at least I try to. It must look really goofy because he laughs, making his belly shake against my nose. Spots are starting to appear in front of my eyes and master closes his eyes and moans as my throat begins to spasm around him.

Then I'm taking in fresh air as master pulls me up. I lick as I suck in air, not wanting to make him wait for his pleasure just because I need to breathe. I get back to work as the bear settles in for a nice long blowjob. I've been master's pet for what seems like a long time so I know how he wants me to move on him.

My master is so wonderful that it only feels right that I try to make sure that each blowjob is the best I can give him. He closes his eyes but I know he won't fall back asleep. My owner trusts me to know when to get him off and I keep an eye on the round wall clock. Making master cum too soon would rob him of pleasure which would make him cranky. But taking too long to make him cum would be equally inexcusable because then he'd be late for work. He's a really important person and it's absurd to think he'd run late just because his dog couldn't manage to suck out his load on time.

I focus so hard on my task that I almost forget how tight the cage feels around my penis. It's hard and unforgiving and has rarely come off since I've been in master's care. Most of my memories from before my life with master are blurry and elusive. Hard to remember and quickly forgotten. But there's one memory that I just can't seem to shake and it pops into my head at the worst times.

The memory is short. Just a moment long but it's vivid and clear. I'm standing in front of a mirror and the reason I know it's from before master is because my muscles are small and soft compared to how I look today. Today I'm a massive, muscular puppy because that's how master wants me to look. Master has me work out every day, hours a day as I sweat and strain in the gym for him. Sometimes it feels like all I do is work out, eat, clean, and take care of master. All while straining against my cage, my red tip visibly restrained just outside my sheath.

But that's why the memory is so confusing. Instead of being big and strong and caged, in the memory I'm small and weak and...

It makes my penis cage tight just thinking about it. The memory is so confusing yet somehow deeply arousing. It shouldn't bother me so much but it does. It's just some scrawny boy playing with himself in front of the mirror. But the boy in the mirror is me and the cock he's playing with is massive.

It's an indisputably huge appendage from its bloated mushroom tip all the way down to its fist sized knot. Unbelievably, the twinkish boy in the mirror is even bigger than master when it comes to what's swinging between his legs. His skinny hand is working back and forth over the meat, a look of intense concentration on his face. And that's it. The entire memory. That's all I really recall of the time before master.

I can't ask master about the memory because puppies aren't allowed to talk. I wouldn't even know how to start a conversation and whenever I think about what I might try to say if I tried, all the words get jumbled up in my head. In the unlikely event that master would ever invite me to speak, I don't think I'd manage to put two words together. Not that he would ever want me to attempt conversation. Master has far better uses for my mouth.

I feel the polar bear's cock start to swell on my tongue as his breathing deepens. I check the wall clock. It's still too soon so I back off, letting master twitching member cool down in my now still muzzle before starting back up. I work him slow and steady, this time ensuring he doesn't hit the edge until the time is right.

I worry that master will be angry that I accidentally got him so close but the man actually huffs in pleasure and says, "Holy fuck, Puppy. For a straight guy, you still suck cock with the best of them. You know what? I'm in the mood for a big finisher. Mount up, slut. Put those muscles to use, yeah?"

My ears twitch involuntarily at the instruction. 'Mount up' isn't my favorite command because it means my ass is going to be sore for the rest of the day. But I'd do anything for master so I don't hesitate to hop into position, my hand holding master's black cock vertical and in position as I place my feet on either side of the big man's waist.

The bear takes hold of my ankles, pulling them wider apart so that he can get a good look at my hole as I begin to lower myself down. Master owns this hole just as surely as he owns me. He's taken my hole countless times before but it's always a struggle. I don't complain. It's my honor to take master under my tail and the thought of having master inside makes my balls throb in desire.

Master takes my heavy, dangling sack in hand and uses his grip to pull me down faster still. There's only inches between my puckered hole and his plump cockhead now. My gym honed legs quiver in anticipation of the dull burning sensation I'll feel as my ring is stretched out in all directions at once.

"Come on, Puppy," the man says, his voice low with need. He almost sounds desperate, licking his lips in anticipation of enjoying my tightness and warmth. "Give me that hole, Lipstick. Get those thighs pumping. Work that cock. Daddy needs to cum."

'Lipstick' is one of master's favorite pet names for me. He says the way my dark red cockhead pushes just out of my sheath makes it look like a lipstick container. The man has lots of pet names for me and he likes to grunt them in my ear when he comes home after a late night out, beer on his breath and his cock under my tail as his big belly pushes me deep into the mattress. Lover. Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Lovely. Darling. Sugar. Cunt. Bitch. Cocksucker. Limp Dick. Chastity Slut. Slave. Whore. Drippy. But mostly he just calls me Puppy.

My ring is on fire now, burning as it stretches wide over his eager chub. Master's hand is still on my balls, pulling me down slow but steady as I do my best to help. I whimper in pain and he rubs my belly, comforting me even as he instructs, "Keep going, Puppy. Halfway there."

Only halfway? It already feels like I have one of the big sausages from the fridge fully crammed up in there. But master wants me to keep going so that's exactly what I do. I love my wonderful master and if I can use my body to help him relax before his busy day out of the house, then I gladly offer myself to him.

Master is getting anxious now and his hand is beginning to crush down on my sensitive orbs. He barely even notices that I'm still in his grip, such is his single minded determination to get all the way inside me. I have no way of telling the man that he's smooshing the life out of my sack and so my only option is to slam myself down, taking the rest of his spire in one outrageously painful motion.

Just then, master's phone rang. Shushing my involuntary whimpering, he answered the device with his right hand even as his left held me in place, my thighs already starting to ache from holding the awkward position.

"Yeah, Brock here," he said, finally loosening his death grip of my balls such that he was now merely squeezing them lightly.

He frowned as he listened to the little device, my ears unable to pick up any of its sounds over my own labored breathing.

"What do you mean the actress is exercising her contract's clause? Did you tell that little diva what that'll mean for her reputation?. No one will work with her. And that's not even a threat, Bob. That's just the nature of the business."

Letting go of my sack, the polar bear put a single finger to his lips, then gestured at me. Even without saying a word, his meaning was clear. Master wanted my hole and he didn't plan to wait. As quietly as possible I get started, my ring protesting bitterly as I drag it back and forth over my owner's ebony erection. Master is very important and I do everything I can not to interrupt his conversation. Folding my hands behind my head, I flex my arms to show off my muscles as I settle in a rhythm. The polar bear's arousal is engulfed by my trained hole, stroked and tugged in turn in an aggressive cadence as I try to get us back on schedule. My motion causes my balls and cage to bounce wildly about as I glance nervously at the clock hoping master won't blame me if he ends up running late.

Attention split, master says aloud to the phone, "Of course I'm panting, I just got off the treadmill ...Oh, a liar, am I? Listen, you don't get a belly this big by just taking it easy, yeah?"

Then he laughed at his own joke, joined by the other voice on the phone who laughed loudly enough that even I could hear him.

"No no, you caught me. Truth is, I got Puppy right here, bouncing on my cock. ...Oh yeah, I'm stretching him out real good." Then, holding the phone up towards my face he says, "Say hello, pup."

I bark into the phone, as I'd been trained. Master was never shy about showing me off and all of his close friends have seen master put me through my paces. He always enjoys having an audience while he fucks me. Sometimes master lets his friends take me into the guest bedroom for a turn. But more often I'll serve master's friends where he can watch me work, evaluating my technique and offering feedback. It makes me blush in embarrassment when master critiques my enthusiasm and responsiveness where others can hear.

Taking the phone back, the polar bear listened for a moment and said, "Lucky nothing. Don't forget, this twat tried to mug me at knife point in an alleyway. Probably drugged out and trying to score his next fix. So sure, you should be so lucky! Dumbass. I'm just glad I remembered to bring along my taser. If things had gone different or if I'd been too slow jamming that taser between his ribs, this fucker would have left me for dead in that alley for a measly forty dollars. Working my cock is the least the big horn-ball can do to make it up to me."

"Rude? Whose rude? I'm just stating facts. You're a dumbass and he's a horn-ball. But I suppose I'd be lying if I said the big lug hadn't grown on me. You should see how big he's gotten. He's huge! Like a world champion weightlifter, big all over. Well... almost all over. Some might say he's big everywhere but where it counts."

Master and the other man both laughed again.

"Anyway, I'll let you go. You tell that bitch that I expect her on set at one PM or she can talk to my lawyers. ...Yeah, I'll be heading in shortly. Just gotta make a royal mess out of this dog's pussy first. Ciao."

The man closes the phone then tosses it off to the side.

"Alright pup, enough playing around. Show me why I paid a king's ransom for all that gym equipment I'll never use. Get that hole pumping. Up down up down up down. Yip yip, slut."

My body stiffens up at the implied reprimand and I hurry to obey. I shove my body down on the polar bear's upright stiffy. I feel sweat form in my pits and a deep muscle ache spreads out from my thighs.

Seeing my worried expression, the polar bear relaxed his stern voice and reassured, "Aww, I'm just teasing sweetie. You're doing great. Daddy's about to spew a real nice load up your cute tush. Keep it up, babe."

I wanted to ask master about what he said during the phone call. What happened in the alleyway? Was that really me he was referring to? Had I tried to hurt master? I couldn't remember. Other than that memory of me playing with myself in front of the mirror, the earlier I could think back with any degree of clarity was the sensory deprivation chamber.

Me floating in the warm, saline liquid. Waterproof headset on my ears as I stared into the darkness. It feels so long ago but I remember a voice speaking to me in that darkness. Telling me that I was a good boy. A good rottweiler. A good puppy. That chamber is where I forgot how to talk and where I learned to love master. I had been so grateful when he pulled me out of the blackness to check on me. Master would ask me if I was ready to suck his cock. At first I was stupid and selfish and told him no. I think I may have cursed at him and threatened him. Then master would put me back in the dark place and the voice explained what I did wrong.

I can't remember why I told master no. Why I resisted his will and desires. But I do remember when I changed my tune, barking out my answer when he asked for the hundredth time if I was ready to suck his cock. A pleased smile on his face, master offered me his black pole and I greedily took it into my mouth.

I recall thinking it didn't taste good, grossed out by the texture of the throbbing mass between my lips. Hating its girth and how it stretched my jaw. The precum he smeared around the inside of my mouth made me want to gag as did the knowledge that he would soon cum down my throat. Seeing his nostrils flare and realizing this meant his cock was moments away from shooting its thick load into me disgusted me in a way I can't properly describe.

But the taste doesn't matter any more than the size or the texture. My preferences don't matter. What matters is making master happy. And pleasing master had been my reason for living ever since. Now I love how master tastes because I associate that taste with his pleasure.

Then my efforts pay off and master is shooting deep inside me. I keep moving, knowing full well that the man wants his load to be milked out energetically and completely. Until he grabs my hips which is my sign to stop. I hold my position, sitting on his cock which is still pumping out the last droplets of his load.

Master is panting now. He's a big man and, if I'm being honest, not in the best of shape. Despite me doing most of the work, the bear's orgasms are as intense as they are pleasurable and they tend to take a lot out of him. Despite just waking up he now looks a touch exhausted, though it is certainly a happy sort of exhaustion.

He's still catching his breath when he snaps his fingers at me. My owner doesn't have to say anything more. We have a well established pattern and I know what he wants.

Pulling off while careful to keep his load within me, I move to his side, lean down, and get to work. Master's hard but rapidly deflating cock is drenched in his seed which I clean away with gentle swipes of my tongue. Since I clean my hole multiple times a day this act is no real burden on me and I gladly consume the frothy white mess. I work fast, swallowing frequently as I move.

Master checks his phone as I work. He taps at the screen as I take his salty tasting essense down my throat and into my stomach. His balls are likewise drenched and these too I lick and suckle until they are spotless. I treat them well, practically worshipping his pair as my own balls throb in envy. I turn my awareness away from them. I've gotten good at ignoring the pair. The throbbing need. The ever present dull ache. But I'm nowhere as good at ignoring them as master is.

He looks away from his phone and sees that my tongue is now just retreading previously covered ground. His is soft, clean, and happy but I keep licking until told to stop. Master ruffles my head fur, enjoying the sight of my pink tongue working hard for his pleasure. My mouth and nose are filled with the taste and scent of master and my cockhead is once more smooshed up against its confinement.

"Okay, shower time," he declares. And with that, my daily morning service is complete. That is to say, the sexual aspects of it.

I spend the next hour helping master get ready for work. First we head to the shower where I methodically lather shampoo into the polar bear's wet fur. We don't bother with my fur because it's master's time which is important and I can always shower later.

While I work the shampoo in and out of master's fur through several rinse cycles, master plays with my balls. This is a fairly common occurrence and I've learned that the act isn't the slightest bit sexual as far as my owner is concerned. He plays with my balls because they're there, they're his, and he's bored.

But just because he doesn't view the act as sexual does not mean that my balls agree. In fact, this is the closest to sex I ever get. Where I'm the recipient anyway. The metal cage around my cock only comes off for my weekly sheath cleaning and the bear ensures the procedure is very clinical and involves as little touching as possible.

Master never mentions my cock and never touches me there aside from sheath cleanings. My balls are treated nearly identically with the exception that my owner likes to play with them when he's bored or contemplative. His touch is not intended to be sensual, though it still makes me almost pant with lust. Master's cock doesn't even stir as he touches me. This isn't foreplay to him and he doesn't think of my privates in those terms. To master, I am genderless.

I think of that memory of me in front of the mirror, giant cock in hand. My cage feels so tight it might as well be a metal hand crushing down on me. The shower water cleans away my precum like it was never even there, joining the shampoo in the pipes below.

Master turns off the water and steps out to towel himself off. For several long seconds I can't make myself move to join him. I want master to push me against the wet shower wall. To fuck me so hard that this maddening itch between my legs will leave me alone if only for a time.

But my owner isn't in the mood to fuck. His seed is already spent, on my tongue and down my stomach and up my hole. Proof of his contentment and satisfaction. I force myself to step out of the shower, helping master towel himself off before using his damp towel on myself. He leaves to dress as I finish up, hanging the towel before I hurry to join him.

After his shower, the polar bear dresses for work with my assistance and then reads the news on his phone at the dining room table while I cook him breakfast. Once he heads off to work I'll cook a second breakfast for myself. A high calorie meal tailored to my high intensity workout routine. My body requires a surprising amount of fuel to stay this fit. But master eats first, which is only natural.

Once everything is ready, I serve my owner breakfast, tea, and coffee. He sets down his phone and begin to eat, grunting as he does so. Whether he grunts out of simple acknowledgement or out of appreciation, I'm unsure.

When master leaves I'll clean up the kitchen but for now there's something more important that I can do for master. I get under the table, take the polar bear's big foot paws into my hands, and gently massage his feet. They're perfectly clean as master is fastidious about his grooming and I use my thumbs and fingers to rub at the delicate musculature of his feet. Above me master continues eating. He does not directly acknowledge my efforts but I know the foot massage pleases him because his toes curl just like they do when he cums down my throat.

Sometimes master takes this opportunity to push me to the ground with his feet, stepping on my face and body while remaining seated. During these times, as is my duty, I allow the polar bear to stomp on me wherever he sees fit, as firmly as he sees fit. Master likes when I kiss his leg as he softly steps on my throat. But today the man does not wish to take my breath with his feet and so I continue my massage instead.

Finishing breakfast, his mind is already on his work. He looks distracted as I help him find his keys and wallet. I feel a profound sadness knowing that master is about to leave me alone for many hours but I know better than to whimper or whine. Still, the angle of my ears and my body posture must make my feelings clear because master pauses to look at me after he opens the front door.

"I'm going out for a while, pup. I'll be back later tonight. Are you going to be a good boy for me and take care of the place while I'm gone?"

My tail wags at his upbeat tone and I bark a happy affirmative. Master smiles at me which makes my cage tight and my balls ache, but it's a good ache.

"That's my good boy" he says, checking his watch, a slight frown crossing his face that he's running so late. Glancing back at me, he tells me, "Go on and show me that hole one last time."

Moving fast to obey, I turn around, get on my knees, and lean forward. Raising my tail up into the air, I reach around with both and pulls my muscular ass cheeks apart so master can see his property. The hole he claimed again just this morning.

Master whistles in appreciation, enjoying the sight of my shower-damp pink hole.

"Now that's something to look forward to. You know what master is going to do to that hole later, don't you boy?"

I bark, excited this time. My over full balls hang just below my hole but master only has eyes for his "pup pussy" as he sometimes calls it.

"That's right Puppy. I'm going to pound that hole wide open. I want you thinking about how good I'm going to breed you while you're working out. Ciao, pup. Don't you go forgetting me while I'm gone."

Master closes the door behind me, leaving me on my knees. I sit up to stare at the door and wait until I hear the car start, then drive away.

Left alone in the entryway, I whimper. A low, mournful sound. It's not fair that master is leaving me here all alone. I hate it and I miss him already. Why can't he just fuck me again now? I know from experience how virile the man is. How much stamina he can muster when expressing his sexual prowess.

Master, please come back! You can claim my hole in any position you want! In the kitchen, with one of my legs stretch up onto the counter top. In the living room, my face pressed deep between two sofa cushions. In the laundry room, my sensitive balls pressed against the ice cold surface of the washing machine. In the bedroom, your big white polar bear belly resting heavily atop me as you as you fuck me on the edge of the mattress.

Anywhere, master! You can fuck me anywhere you want, as hard as you want! You can use your silk work tie to choke me! You can spank my gym-honed ass until I howl and cry! Just please don't leave me!

But he did leave and now I'm alone. I wait for several more long minutes hoping he'll change his mind as he's done once or twice in the past. Then I force myself to stand and head back into the kitchen.

Deflated, I clean up my earlier mess as my ass throbs from this morning's romp with master. It's comforting to know that somewhere deep inside me master's essence remains but the dull stretch-ache just serves as another reminder that master is gone and he won't be coming back for a very long time. Not until the sun is almost down, at the earliest.

On autopilot I clean, cook, and then eat. Master is never far from my thoughts as I clean up after myself and get ready for my morning workout routine.

Getting master off in the mornings always makes me eager for my upcoming workout. When he leaves for the day I'm left with a lot of pent up energy that I burn off through hours of pumping iron. It's the best thing really because master loves how the routine makes me look. And the better I look, the more enthusiastically master uses me. Sometimes he drops by the house for a surprise mid-day visit and fucks me right on weight machine. He likes to watch me pump iron as he thrusts into me, my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth from the exertion of it all.

Master has fucked me so many times but I never get bored of it. In fact, the opposite it true. The longer I live with my owner the more I come to crave his touch. His attention. His thick black cock up my ass. Master is such a good master that I'm never satisfied. My body burns for him and sex is never far from my thoughts. When it comes to master, I am never satisfied. I hunger for his confident touch. Even when the polar bear isn't actually fucking me, I like to play back those memories in my simple dog mind.

As I pump iron, I think of master's arms around me, taking me. Claiming me. Breeding me. My breathing comes out in harsh huffs, just like it would if my owner was actually using my body for his sexual gratification. When we have sex, his hands wander over my body. He likes to feel my hardened muscles under his palm. The man likes to call them "pretty, but useless," knowing that I would never use my superior strength to resist him. Like the rest of me, my muscles exist only to serve him.

But I don't think my muscles are useless at all. They're the perfect aphrodisiac for master and that makes the countless hours I spend in the home gym worth it. All master has to do is look at my body, my rippling muscles, my chiseled abs, and I can see the lust in his eyes. When master gets horny, I get horny. Well, hornier.

My favorite moments with master run through my head in a loop as I move from set to set. Sweat runs down my body and onto the floor as powerful fans do their best to keep me cool. As I struggle against the stacked up weights, my cockhead is throbbing, smashed into the abrupt end of the cage. It's red and unmistakable and clear as day for anyone to see. But no one sees it. Master isn't here and doesn't see me dribble and sweat for him.

Precum drips down my thigh, joining the sweat on the ground. I barely notice, my mind so fixated on the time master took me in the wheelbarrow position. My hands pressed against the ground, arms holding my weight up. Master held me by my hips, my legs curled up around his waist and into the air. We both faced the gym's floor-to-ceiling mirror and master flashed me a hungry grin right before he pushed into me.

The burning pain that followed was intense but I gratefully accepted it because I knew how good I was making the bear feel. I used every ounce of strength I had to maintain that position until master came, groaning out his climax as he blasted into my soggy hole. Mumbling a barely audible, "...Good dog. Fuck me am I tired," the man dropped me to the floor. Then he laid down on the padded gym matt as I licked him clean. Master hates the feeling of dried cum on his manhood.

I like that memory so much that I decide to start it over from the beginning. I'll do that sometimes when I'm working out or cleaning or cooking. Take a single treasured recollection of master and play it over and over in my head. I like to focus on a different aspect of the memory each time. His smell. His touch. The crude words he grunts into my ear as he breeds me.

But this time, the effort goes terribly off track when another memory invades my mind, uninvited and unwanted. It's the mirror memory again. And once more, I see an erection I haven't laid eyes on in a very long time. My erection. It's huge, red, knotted, and without a doubt larger than even master's big cock. Why does this memory keep intruding into my thoughts? Whatever happened prior to coming to live with master doesn't matter. I know this with an absolute certainty. ...Don't I?

The frustrating part is reliving this memory is how pointless it is to my life with master. If master wanted me to get hard, he wouldn't keep my tender bits caged. Because he does, it's obvious that the massive red pole from the memory would only get in the way. Whether that's because master finds it to be an eyesore or because he doesn't want my cock distracting me from my responsibilities, I don't know and I don't need to know.

I set down the weights and slap myself in the face. Hard. The pain is sharp but focuses my attention back on what's important. This memory is a test of my loyalty to master. A test I will crush and overcome.

I'm sickened at my own weakness and head into my post workout shower. Here I double, then triple the number of enemas I normally give myself. I use extra water to punish myself, breaking out in an uncomfortable sweat as my stomach distends with the large volume of water I'm forcing up my clenched hole.

I hold each enema for longer than I need to, jaw clenching as I hold back groans of discomfort. I stand over the shower drain, counting down the minutes until I can release. I look down and notice that I can't see my cockhead, my member entirely hidden within my sheath. Good. I'm tired of thinking about my cock. It's master's member that deserves my attention, focus, and adoration.

By the time I'm done with my enhanced set of enemas, a full hour has passed. My legs tremble and my ass aches at holding back so much water for so long. I stare at my chastity cage, daring my disobedient cock to make another appearance. When it stays soft and dormant, I know that I've won. Once more I've proven my loyalty to my wonderful master.

I head back into the gym and wipe off the machines I used. Between the workout and the enemas my whole body is sore but I'm smiling anyway. I'm smiling because I've realized how smart he was to put this cage on me. Even though it's only able to grow to a fraction of its full length, my puppy cock regularly proves to be a tremendous distraction. I can't even guess at how much worse that distraction would be were it allowed to unfurl and telescope out to its full length.

That must be the reason that master keeps it locked up. The cage isn't a punishment. It's a tool to help me in the battle of willpower against a cock that's too big and too demanding to be otherwise controlled. As I clean, I'm filled with gratitude for my owner. He's a far better master than a horny, big dicked pet like me deserves.

The polar bear won't hear of my revelation because puppies can't talk. But he will experience my appreciation in other ways. When master comes home from work, he will find me an active participant no matter how he chooses to use me.

Having eaten, exercised, and showed I spend the next couple hours cleaning. I throw myself into the task as I sweep, vacuum, scrub, dust, and do laundry. I pick up master's scent on his clothes and bed sheets and my breathing deepens with lust as a familiar tightness grips my member.

Just then the doorbell rings with a distinct pattern of buzzing. I'm under strict orders to ignore all knocking and ringing because master doesn't want me opening the door for strangers or interacting with people I don't know. But this particular ringing pattern means the visitor could only be one person. I'm filled with a combination of excitement and dread as I rush to open the door.

Sure enough, a young black-furred bunny is at the front door which is shielded from sight from the road due to a strategic placement of hedges and bushes. He's grinning at me nervously as he says, "Hey Puppy, great to see you." But he's not looking at my cocked, questioning face but rather the caged package between my legs.

I move out of the way to let him inside and he follows me into the house as if mesmerized by my caged condition. I close the door behind him, lock it, then fall my knees as I eagerly lick at his shins and ankles. Not only has my owner instructed me to ensure that Tommy always feels welcome in our home, the polar bear made it clear that I'm to gently encourage the highschooler to explore his sexuality with me. I can tell from the hungry look on Tommy's face that very little encouragement will be necessary on that front today.

"Oh hey Puppy, you don't need to do that," the young man offers, but I continue my friendly licking as he makes no move to stop me. I only pause as he continues to walk farther into the house, finding the couch in the den and taking a seat.

Here I would resume my licking but Tommy takes my muzzle in his hands, petting me and scratching behind my ear. This feels quite good and I smile at up at him to show my appreciation.

"Good boy, Puppy. Good boy," he praises and he strokes and pets me. "I was just... uhh... in the area and I thought I might check in on you. See how you were doing."

I may be very naive about the ways of people like master and Tommy but even a dumb rottweiler like me knows that the bunny didn't stop just to 'check in on me' or simply to 'see how I was doing'. The boy is working up the nerve to use me to slate his teenage needs and I must play along. It's what master would want. My once more throbbing balls informed me that part of me also wanted this.

I smile up at the highschooler, genuinely happy at his thoughtful words and pretending that I'm ignorant of the true purpose of his visit. I position myself so that the boy can get a good look at my cage which I know fascinates him. His eyes grow wide at the sight of it and he looks at the locked metal device as though it were a wondrous treasure.

A few weeks ago master decided to introduce two of us and as part of this introduction he casually explained the cage's purpose. Tommy had never been exposed to the notion that a horny dog like me not be permitted to grow stiff whenever the mood took me. His mind turning on this unexpected development, the dark furred bunny peppered master with questions as I licked the boy's hand and face. Later that evening I would end up licking a very different part of the bunny but master started off slow and careful, not wanting to scare the young man off.

Master had been happy to answer all of the bunny's questions, sometimes truthfully but often offering up a mix between truth and fiction. Bewildered at the severeness of my long term chastity, Tommy had asked, "But isn't this mean? Doesn't Puppy want to cum?"

Not wanting to upset the youth, master wisely sidestepped the question and instead answered, "Puppies like this boy here aren't allowed to shoot and so don't expect that type of release. He's perfectly content to stay caged. All Puppy needs to be happy is a bit of attention and the opportunity to feel useful."

Everything master said in response to Tommy's question was absolutely true. Master has never once granted me permission to cum and while he has never said it aloud, I strongly suspect that he has no intention of ever doing so. But the teenager had asked if I wanted to cum. A more honest answer would have been, my intense and undeniable desire to blow my canine load is never far from my thoughts. That after so many months of denial, it goes far beyond simple want or desire. The embarrassing truth is that despite how much I love master, I'm desperate to cum.

Every morning I wake up hoping that the key master keeps on a silver chain around his neck will find its lock. And every night I go to sleep curled up next to master, my nose full of his scent and my mind filled with fresh memories of the polar bear groaning out in pleasure as his big hose spews its load. As his black cock squirts and flexes, my own member trembles within the confines of sheath and cage. At night Master sleeps soundly beside me, snoring softly as I looked enviously upon the well satisfied cock draped over his large thigh.

Tommy also asked about where I came from. The polar bear told him that we met up on the internet and that I had been looking for someone who had a mutual interest in a long term arrangement like this. Master said we chatted for a few weeks, got to know each other, met up for coffee a few times, and the rest is history.

This doesn't sound true but it's hard to say for sure. The time before master is one big fuzzy blur in my head. Besides, it doesn't matter. However our paths happened to cross, I'm happy that I met master. He's wonderful and kind and super smart and his every touch drives me wild with need.

Later that evening Tommy excused himself to go to the bathroom. Master took the opportunity to explain that should he manage to convince the bunny to sleep in the guest bedroom tonight, I was to sneak into the boy's bed an hour or so after the bear went to sleep. There, one of two things would happen. Either the boy would make use of me of his own initiative or I would gently coax the boy into taking advantage of me.

Then, taking my balls in hand and crushing them lightly between his strong fingers, my owner said, "If the sun rises and Tommy hasn't spent his load in your throat, under your tail, or over your fur then you and I will need to discuss the importance of meeting expectations."

I licked master's hand even as it squeezed my tender bits as I beseeched him for mercy. With his other hand he pet my head and said he was sure I wouldn't let him down.

Thankfully, convincing a horny teenager to spew his load in an eager puppy's mouth ended up being a straightforward affair. As instructed, I waited until master was asleep and then snuck into Tommy's room. I jumped around on his bed and made soft playful noises until he woke up. I had a tennis ball in my mouth but this time I had no desire to play fetch.

The highschooler regarded me groggily but with growing interest. I recall that he rose from the bed and made his way to the door. A moment of panic struck me as I feared he might kick me out of the room, my gambit lost before I even got to play any of my cards. Instead, Tommy looked outside and glanced both directions before softly closing the door. Then he locked it, a distinct noise in the dark.

That's when I knew that I would have no difficulty achieving master's intent. The bunny turned and regarded me in the dark. Smiling back at him, I flopped onto my back and curled my arms and legs up in the air. Between my legs my chastity cage lay, warm, tight, and inviting further inspection. My friendly tongue lolled out the side of my mouth as I spread my legs slightly, silently encouraging him not only to rub my belly but also to explore wherever his curiosity took him.

Despite my active efforts to seduce the teenager, beneath the surface I was quite nervous. Master's friends were typically men about his age who were possessed of similar self confidence. I'd been fucked many times in that guest bedroom but never by anyone who looked so unsure about what they wanted or about what to do next. As a dog, I'm not used to taking the lead and I felt pangs of anxiety that I might be required to guide Tommy in his use of me.

As it turned out, my fears were entirely misplaced.

The door securely locked behind him and sounding surprisingly confident the teenager said, "Well, aren't you just the cutest mutt. Do you have something to show me, pup? Spread your legs then."

Hearing this, I nearly sighed in relief. Tommy spent the next couple hours putting me to use. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of my well developed body. He had me return the favor and there was scarcely a spot on his body that my tongue failed to lick and worship at his command. Then he tied me up with sturdy smooth ropes he found under the bed and fucked me so good I barely noticed the size difference between him and master.

Now Tommy was dropping to 'see how I was doing'. Yeah. Right.

The bunny places his hand on my chest and I lean into the touch. He's petting my chest fur with one hand, playing with my nipple with the other. He's smiling shyly at me and I'm grinning right back.

"I bet you've guessed why I'm here, haven't you?"

The question catches me off guard. Master never asks questions that need an actual. They're always either rhetorical or master is indicating how he wants me to answer. But Tommy seems to be looking for a response so I risk nodding my head.

"And you want it too, don't you? You like it when free men turn your perfect body into a sex toy."

Again I nod. I lick my lips in anticipation. The bunny has proven himself to be a delightfully demanding lover. I'd like nothing more than to wrap my powerful legs around his waist as he drove himself forward under my tail.

"And no matter what happens, that cage between your legs stays locked tight, doesn't it? Because that's how your master likes you. Hot. Horny. Frustrated. Desperate. Those needy balls of yours bouncing uselessly around, sweaty and swollen."

I nod again, breathing heavier now. Dirty talk never fails to get me riled up. Master is a pro at it but Tommy isn't bad. He's not bad at all.

"I bet you'd like me to suck on them. Me on my back between your muscled up thighs, your balls packed into my mouth. It'd be easy for you, wouldn't it? To make me taste you."

I think about the question for a moment. I look at my body, then his. I'm a powerhouse. He's a twink. Finally I nod. Yes, I could make him. And yes, it would be easy.

"Then do it," he says, slipping off the couch and rubbing his muzzle against my stomach, inches above my caged and throbbing rottweiler cock. "Make me suck your balls."

I stand up, hands going behind my head instinctively. I rest my warm orbs on his nose. I flex my muscles like master likes, striking a pose. I try to mask how excited I am that own sexual equipment will be played with. Tommy would have no way of knowing how little interest master takes in what's between my legs. I haven't been treated like a man... like a real man since before my owner took possession of me. I think? The vague memories once more elude me.

"No, I mean... I want you to make me suck them." He takes my hands in his and places them behind his head. "Understand?"

I'm not sure that he means what I think he means so I shake my head no.

"Yes you do," Tommy says, not buying my act for a second. "You got months of cum in those big balls of yours and you're going to take my head in those strong hands and make me suck on them. Or are those balls of yours just for show?"

Logically, I know that the teenager is experimenting. Exploring his sexuality while seeing how horny he can get me. His lips are on my sack. His tongue slips out of his mouth to give my balls a single tempting lick. My self control is cracking.

And yet...

I push his head away from my crotch and it's just about the hardest thing I've ever done because I want his mouth on me. I want my cock down his throat and my knot up his ass. I want to use my muscles to hold him down and fuck my cum into him. But I'm master's puppy and none of that is possible for me.

Then I see Tommy's smiling face and I'm very confused. Shouldn't he be upset that I'm rejecting his offer? What game is he playing at?

"Awww, is the big strong dog worried the cute bunny is going to leave him pent up and drippy? Well... too bad. Since you're so good at following the orders where you get treated like a bitch: Lay on the ground. Get on your back, spread your legs, and get your hands behind your head."

These types of orders were more in my comfort zone but for some reason I still had butterflies in my stomach. The bunny wants something from me and he isn't leaving here until he got it. Regardless, master would want me to obey and so I do. But Tommy isn't treating me like master does and it throws me off balance.

The teenager settles in between my thighs and immediately sets to work. His hands rub my meaty thighs as he sucks on my balls, moaning as he licks and suckles. All of my muscles tense as I gasp and whimper. Never once has the polar bear's mouth found my sack. I've never been touched like this and pleasure washes over me in waves deep and powerful. I look at my chastity and see my red tip fighting its restraints.

"Puppy... be honest with me," Tomm says between licks. "Has Mr. Brock ever let you cum?"

I shake my head no and it's the truth. I've gotten master off countless times only to watch him fall asleep comfortable and satisfied as I stay awake, squirming in need beside him. But that's just how things go when you're a dog. Master has made it clear that my cock isn't for cumming. But I love my wonderful master and I wouldn't want things any other way. Well... with one or two tiny exceptions.

"But you're so strong and handsome. It doesn't seem fair to keep you so pent up for so long. After all, you do want to cum, don't you?" the highschooler asks, pausing to lick my now hypersensitive sack. "You want to shoot this big juicy load all over me, don't you."

The last part wasn't phrased as a question but I nod emphatically anyway. Yes, I want to cum. On his face. Down his throat. Up his ass. Over his body. I want to take him in every way in which master has taken me. And master has taken me in every way you can imagine.

Tommy is now rubbing all around my straining manhood. His hands are on my stomach and my crotch. His fingers brush up against the root of my sheath and I hump up into the air, unable to resist the impulse. The bunny is licking on my cage and I can feel his breath upon my flesh. His tongue darts between the gap in the bars and I gasp as feel the wet tip rubs my caged cockhead.

"Sorry Puppy... Here I am getting you all riled up and I don't even have a key to your cage. Should I stop?" He licks me through the bars again and I shudder.

Oh fuck. This boy could teach master a thing or two when it comes to teasing. I shake my head no, desperate for every ounce of pleasure his mouth can give me. I crave the touch of his tongue like a desert flower craves the rain.

"Do you promise you'll stay still until I give you permission to move? No matter what?"

I nod but I'm only mostly telling the truth. If the landline rang with master's distinct ringtone I'd have to pick it up. Just like if master came home early, I'd have to move to greet him at the door. But other than that, I'm well practiced in being a compliant toy for my owner's friends and guests.

"Good," Tommy said, sounding quite pleased with himself. "Then close your eyes and I'll get to work. This should only take a minute or two."

I'm not sure what he's talking about and I'm too horny to care. I want him to fuck me. I want him to moan and sweat and then shoot inside of me. I want him to play with my nipples and my balls and my chastised cock. I want him to make me work for his pleasure. I want him to grunt dirty things into my ear, just like master does. I close my eyes and wait to see how he'll use me.

When I hear the distinct sounds of clicking metal I re-open my eyes. Tommy doesn't notice. He's too busy trying to pop the lock of my chastity with a set of lock picks.

Oh no. Oh no, no no. No!

I bark at him, half in warning and half in fear. Master won't like this. Not at all. I nervously glance at where I know one of the hidden cameras is set up. Tommy is too young and inexperienced to understand that the polar bear sees everything that happens in his home. This is my owner's territory and nothing is private. Not even when I piss in the back yard. And certainly not the middle of the living room.

"Shhh, down boy. No barking," the rabbit instructs, still focused on his work. He has a slender pick in each hand and he's carefully rotating them.

I begin to sweat as I try and fail to think my way out of this situation. I have to obey master's guests. The polar bear has made that absolutely clear over. I hate how stupid I am. I only I were smarter I could think of a way out of this mess.

Ordered not to bark I whimper at Tommy, begging him to stop. Not just for my sake but for his sake too. Master is unlikely to view this as anything but a betrayal of his trust and hospitality. The dumb kid is taking a terrible risk and he's too naive to even know it.

I continue on whimpering, pleading at him with my best puppy dog eyes but Tommy just ignores me. He's tuned everything out but the task at hand. And then it happens. A loud click, a shifting of metal, and my cock is free. Out in the open air and swelling faster than you could believe.

Don't get me wrong. This is hardly the first time I've been let out of my chastity cage. About once a week I'm gagged, tied down to a table, and blindfolded before master's key slide into the lock. Then the bear quickly and gently washes my sheath and member with a wet hand cloth before leaving me tightly bound so that my privates can 'air out'.

During this washing, which feels truly amazing to a horny canine like me, master's touch can't be described as sexual and he certainly never plays with me. Afterwards my erection throbs in the air, untouched and I can only assume completely obscene to look at. Two hours later an ice pack is slapped onto my cock and balls and I whimper into the gag as he reapplies the cage. Master releases the straps to let me up from the table and we continue with our day without me ever having actually laid eyes on my own arousal.

This time is completely different. I'm not bound or gagged or blindfolded. I see everything as my pole protrudes out of my sheathe, growing longer and thicker with each passing second. Tommy is watching too and it's hard to say which of us is more surprised by what we see. My bestial dog cock is so big it's hard to believe that I've been carrying this thing around inside my sheath all these months. It's even bigger than the memory of me standing in front of the mirror. I'm shocked to learn that I'm porn star hung and my knot is similarly endowed.

Tommy openly gapes at the monstrosity and says, "So I guess you're just huge all over then. Big dog. Big, big dog. No wonder your master keeps it locked and out of the way. What dom would want to compete with that thing?"

No, that couldn't be right. Could it? Isn't master keeping me caged so that I can focus on his pleasure? Not because of my cock size. Because that would mean that I've been locked up and kept horny for... for... No. I refuse to even consider it. Master has his reasons and he doesn't owe a dog like me an explanation. My place is to listen and obey. Not to question.

"Bet it's been a long time since someone touched you like this, hasn't it pup?" Tommy asks, wrapping his hand around my girth just above the knot, gripping it tightly.

I nod hesitantly, already nervous about what might happen if master caught me squirting without his permission. Just this simple touch brings me closer to orgasm than I've been in months.

"Man, I'd really like to see this huge dong make a mess," the teenager confesses, his fingers starting to move with a feather-light touch up and down my shaft. Ordered not to move and unable to resist one of master's guests, I can stay still and hope. But whether I'm hoping for Tommy to stop before I pass the point of no return or I'm hoping for Tommy to force me towards a forbidden climax.... I'm just so torn I don't know.

Seeing my tense body and near panicked expression, the boy grins at me micheaviously and remarks, "You need to relax, Puppy. Getting your cock played with is supposed to be fun! But maybe I'm just not doing it right. Should I... take it into my mouth?"

As Tommy waits for my answer he places his lips right up against my swollen tip, his tongue wagging softly over my piss slit. Between his tongue and his slowly moving hand, I'm on the precipice of losing control. I can feel my balls pulled up in their sack, primed to go off at any moment with little to no warning.

I don't answer. I'm frozen, terrified that if my concentration slips...

"Puppy, are you listening? What's the matter? Are you afraid of cumming without your master's permission?"

I nod frantically at this. Yes! Mercy! Please!

"I see," Tommy says between maddening licks. "Well I don't want you to go against your master's wishes. Especially considering how kind and thoughtful he's been towards me. Should we put this big puppy cock back in its cage? But that hardly seems fair, does it? You've been such a good boy and you've waited for this for so long."

The highschooler is still touching me... stroking me... licking me. His lips threatening to engulf my maleness which would all but guarantee me firing off shot after shot of illicit dog cum over his teasing tongue and warm throat. I whimper and whine, all my muscles flexing uselessly. A mantra fills my head like a beat. Puppies don't resist. Puppies don't resist. Puppies don't resist!

And just like that, all contact stops. My member twitches in the air. Tommy and I both stare at it, waiting to see if it'll fire off anyway. But eventually the twitching slows down and I'm able to get myself back under control. If only just barely.

"Alright Puppy. I need to be heading off. Lock yourself back up after I'm gone, won't you?"

...Lock myself up? But...

Giving my overheated dick one last lick, the dark furred bunny hops to his feet, straightens out his clothes, and winks at me.

"And if you were to, say, finish up while uncaged and home alone.... Well, no one would ever really know, would they?"

'No, please!' I want to beg. 'Don't tempt me! Don't make me choose!' But I puppies can't speak and Tommy is already heading towards the door.

"Lock up after I leave! Both the front door and... well, you know. See you later Puppy."

And just like that he was gone. I'm left all alone, uncaged and unbelievably horny. I stare my giant red cock as it silently taunts me. Demanding that I take it in hand and finish the job the teenager lacked the conviction to see through. It would only take a couple firm strokes. Two, three at most.

Then I would be drenched in cum and filled with shame. But I'd be sexually relieved for the first time in... well, ever. Master had conditioned me to live in a constant state of randiness. I've always been hungry for his cock. Always eager to get bred by him. I wake up thinking of his thick black pole and go to sleep thinking of his big black pole. I go through each day hoping but not expecting to cum.

And now I can. There's nothing stopping me.

But even as that thought enters my mind, I know it's not true. Master will know. He'll have my betrayal on video. He'll watch it and then he'll make me watch it, explaining how disappointed he is in me. He'll tell me he thought he trained me better than this and that he's never been so let down.

There's another option, a stern voice whispers wordlessly in my head. I can go to the kitchen to get a pack of ice from the freezer, and force this sensitive red monster back into my sheath. Once I reapply the cage and lock, this tortious temptation will be gone. Master's faith in me will be reaffirmed and he'll know that I'm a good dog. And everything will go back to the way it was before.

...Everything.

Master will use me... and I'll stay horny. Master will come home and fuck me. And I'll stay horny. Master will tell me how good my mouth feels as he pushes into my throat. And I'll stay horny.

Horny. Needy. Desperate. Blue-balled. Frustrated. Pent up.

Day after day after day after day. No touching. No orgasms. No release. For how long?

But I already know the answer. Master will never let me cum. Good puppies focus on their owner's needs. Never their own. Didn't the voice tell me that? Master is wonderful. Master is fair. Master is just. But master is also strict and is possessed of an iron will. No, master will never let me cum. That's a fact as sure as the sun rising from the east.

My knot throbs, begging me. It tells me this is my one and only chance. It says damn the rules, damn the consequences. My cock demands I finish the job. My balls ache worse than I've ever experienced before, pleading for release. I sweat from the internal struggle, mind and maleness pulling my simple dog mind into two torn halves.

My hand inches towards my crotch. Maybe... maybe just a quick touch. Touch to see how it feels between my fingers. Then I can decide... then I can...

The phone rings making me nearly leap out of my fur. I wait a moment to confirm that it's master's unique ringtone and then I get up, rushing to the phone.

I answer with a happy, guilty bark.

"Hey Puppy, miss me?"

I bark again. My tail wags because it's true. I do miss master. I hate having to think. To make decisions. Life is so much easier when he's around. When he's with me, I just do what he says and think what he tells me to think.

"I got out of work early today. We had to make it a short day when all the lawyers got involved. Now my lawyers are talking to her lawyers who are talking to some other lawyers. It's a real fucking mess. But anyway, I'm already on the road and just a few minutes out from the house. I want you in the basement, lubed up and waiting for me. Fair warning, I'm in a bit of a mood so I might go a bit rough on you today."

I bark in acknowledgement even as my hole begins to ache in phantom pain, already anticipating the polar bear's full body thrusts.

"Good dog," master says before the line goes dead.

I set down the phone, looking down at my raging erection in growing horror. If master catches me in this state, an enthusaistic fuck will be the least of my worries.

My meat slaps my thighs as I run into the kitchen. My knees go weak as I almost cum from the unintended attention. Unable to help myself, I imagine master slapping my disobedient cock around with his strong hand. The look on his face as I explode all over his white furred paw. I grip the fridge as I fight back my orgasm, softly howling in need.

Yet every second is precious since the polar bear is still on his way. Pulling myself back together I grab an ice pack from the freezer, slapping it on and around my errant maleness. The cold is sudden and bitter and again I almost sprew my load just from the intense sensation. I've been denied so long that my balls are primed to fire given the thinnest excuse or provocation.

But master would know. From the mess that I did not have time to clean up and even more assuredly from my guilty body language. He'd read the truth in the slump of my shoulders, the anxiety in my expression. Then master would take my typically swollen balls in hand and confirm my disobedience.

The genuine fear of what master would then do to those balls combine merciless chill of the ice pack to smother my erection by degrees. First my massive length softens. Then it begins to retreat centimeter by centimeter, ever so slowly.

I glance at the clock. Too slow. Much too slow. Master is only minutes away and even half hard the cage is much too small for me to make the attempt. Not when such jostling and shoving is sure to breathe fresh life into this throbbing liability.

With hesitant fingers I reach down and... squeeze.

I howl again but this time in pain as I crush my own gonads. My hand flexes as nausea rips through me. Thankfully by the time I recover from this self induced racking, I look down in time to spots the last slip of red flesh retreat back into my sheathe.

Putting the ice pack away, I limp back the living room to retreat the chastity cage. My hand is nearly numb from handling the ice pack and I nearly fumble when I hear the distant sound of a car in the driveway.

The fear and panic is having a perverse effect on me and I'm only just able to lock the device in place before my resurging arousal grows too big to manage. Instead, my cock presses hard against its unyielding metal. A sensation I'm quite familiar with and which is strangely reassuring given the circumstances.

I use a nearby blanket to wipe away any chilled moisture remaining on my hands and crotch and limp down the stairs towards the basement. My aching balls complain with each step, doubly tender from both unspent seed and the recent squeezing. I ignore them. I'm good at ignoring them.

I get into position just as I hear the front door open. I wait in position for several seconds, allowing myself a few slow, relaxing breaths. I made it. It was barely in time, but I made it.

Then panic strikes anew as I remember that I haven't yet lubricated my hole. I rush to smear the cool liquid up and across my tail hole. I've taken master dry before and it is not a circumstance I'm eager to repeat.

Putting the lube bottle away, I stand in the center of the basement and cup the back of my head with my hands. Master enjoys seeing me show off my muscles this way. My tail wags, just as excited as I am for the polar bear to return.

Finally, he appears. Suited body. Confident smile. Hungry eyes. My glorious master.

"Oh man have I been looking forward to this. I can't tell you how horny I've been all day. My balls are killing me. Ready to get bred, bitch?"

I bark. My tail wags even harder. I'm so happy now that I don't have to think. Inside my cage my cock visibility strains like it always does when master's attention is focused on me. But now I can ignore the persistent nagging need because there's nothing I can do about it. I find a sort of profound relief in powerlessness.

He strips out of his clothes, tossing them to the floor. The polar bear is already erect, his arousal leading the way as it swings back and forth in front of him in time with his steps. His hand touches my inner thigh and I spread my legs further apart to show to him that he's welcome inside of me. I nonverbally confirm to him that my hole is his property, always ready for his use. I want him in me and on me and I want to smell his scent as he claims me. I want his seed deep in my ass and smeared on my face, proof of my obedience.

The man pushes his big white belly against me, rubbing his furred mass against my chiseled abs. His possessive touch explores my broad shoulders, my ass, my thighs, and my stomach. His palms run over everywhere but my crotch which isn't ignored so much as not even considered. The only contact there is incidental as his rigid maleness repeatedly bumps up against my sack and cage.

"I think we'll start off with some light throat stretching, my pretty rottweiler slut," the bear announces softly, his muzzle so close to my ear. "On your knees, Puppy."

I eagerly obey. I'll focus on the polar bear's wishes and everything will be fine. He's my wonderful master.