Chapter 9

Discovery

A shaft of bright morning sunlight fell across the feather-stuffed pillow, interrupting a vague dream in which Weskar wandered through a winter forest, warm despite the snow. Real Sunlight, he thought as he stretched out his paws beneath the thick duvet. We're Outside!

A warm bulk stirred beside him. Weskar turned and watched Sam as he slept. The big dog's musky scent filled his nose – a smell he had known since they were puppies, but never really noticed. Like the light, the scents were also brighter Outside. The Shepherd felt a new closeness to his friend after their adventures together. There was something else, too – a tingling warmth, a fascination he couldn't grasp. It drew his attention to small details – the way Sam's oversize ears lay across the pillow, and the soft fur of his chest which rose and fell gently with his breathing. The feeling compelled Weskar to reach out a paw and stroke Sam's ear.

He had no idea what the time was, other than 'morning'. He toyed with the idea of staying in bed, but an exciting new world lay outside the cabin, and delicious smells from the kitchen reminded him that he was hungry. He slipped out from under the covers and stretched again, extending one paw and then the other, and arching his back. He felt unusually good despite a stiffness in his muscles from the previous day's exertions. Easing the door open, he padded out into the main room of the little house.

Sophie sat at the table with a mug of tea at her elbow and an ancient paperback book in her paw. Her tail swished in greeting when she saw the Shepherd.

“Weskar! I was starting to think you boys would sleep until tomorrow!”

Outside, the drifted snow shone brilliant white and a deep blue sky spread overhead. Weskar did not think the universe could hold so much light, and he squinted against the glare. Warmth in the air heralded the arrival of spring, and the snow was melting fast. As Weskar watched, a big lump cascaded off one of the trees with a thud, revealing a splash of dark green foliage.

He stood in front of the cottage and turned one way and then the other, just looking up. A gulf of brilliant blue emptiness turned above his head, and distant mountains ringed the horizon. So far away, he thought, as vertigo tugged at his mind. But he was already adjusting to the larger scale of the outside world, and it filled him with excitement.

Back in Sophie’s kitchen, he discovered a breakfast of meat strips, spiced and fried, served with beans and thick-crusted bread. He was savouring the flavours of this excellent breakfast when Sam emerged. Weskar smiled when he saw the untidy tufts of his friend's sleep-ruffled fur. Sam wore nothing else, for their clothes were still drying. Weskar caught himself staring at the Saint's large frame, noting curves and shapes that he had never paid attention to before. Even sleep-rumpled, the big dog made a fine site, and Weskar's tail wagged in welcome.

When Sam leaned over to give their host a nose-lick greeting, Weskar was struck by the contrast between their fur. The big Saint looked dusty and lacklustre compared to Sophie's healthy sheen. Weskar glanced down and realised that his own coat was not much better. The Outside life seems to suit these canines, he thought.

---

After breakfast, Sophie took them back to Syenna’s house and left them in the care of the wise old female. They found Alenna asleep in the medical bay, a peaceful expression on her face and a fresh bandage neatly wrapped around her wounded leg. Looking down at her, Weskar felt a strange longing. He really couldn't bare to see her in pain, and her sudden vulnerability was both frightening and appealing. An unusual protective instinct rose in Weskar then, along with a good dose of foolish heroism, and he felt ready to fight off the giant eel with his bare paws to protect her, if he had to. That's silly, he told himself. If she was awake, she'd laugh and tell me to look out for my own tail.

“She’s a strong girl, that one, and recovering nicely,” Syenna told them once they were back in the kitchen. “Her fever is mostly gone today. I think she will be back on her paws in a day or two.

“The question is,” she continued, “What are you going to do now? You are welcome to stay here, for we could certainly use your help, and we have no shortage of space.”

Sam reclined in his chair as he savoured the warm sunshine streaming in the window. “That’s a generous offer. But we must also think about the rest of the New Hope population. Last night, I didn’t get as far as telling you why we were escaping from the city.”

Between them, Weskar and Sam explained the critical situation with the Kibble supply, and the Prefect’s seeming blindness to their plight. Syenna listened intently, shaking her head.

“It looks like nothing has changed since our grandparents’ time. It will not be easy convincing them to leave, not against the will of the Prefect, and especially not given the difficulty of the route which you took.”

Sam nodded. “However, I am sure the Protectors – I mean, the designer of the city – provided a better way out. I intend to find it. We have some of the original instructions, and I’m hoping to find a clue in there.”

“I hope you can. But if you do, we'll have to think about the future. There's plenty of fertile land out here, and we've salvaged some of the ancient technology, but it's still a hard life. We'll have to build more houses - whole new villages, in fact - to shelter everyone.”

Her eyes narrowed as she weighed options and calculated. “At least there's plenty of game about,” she said at last. “We're never short of meat.”

Weskar felt his excitement growing as they talked about it. “The canines of New Hope City are a hard-working bunch!” he said. “I’m sure we can do whatever it takes. If we do nothing, they will run out of food in a few weeks anyway, and by then it will be too late.”

Syenna regarded the young dog with her shrewd gaze. “Yes, I’m sure we can do it. You picked a good time since it's spring. We have five months of summer and autumn to get temporary shelters built. Fresh food may be a little short, but I think we can manage.”

“We still have to figure out how we are going to get everyone out,” mused Sam. “I’ll need to study the book we have and see if I can learn anything.”

“That leads nicely to my next point.” Syenna looked from one to the other for a while, saying nothing, but with a glint in her eye. “You've both eaten Kibble all your lives, correct?”

They nodded agreement and she continued. “They tell you that it is nutritious and healthy, which is true. It was very carefully designed. However, according to my grandmother, it has certain... other effects.”

She produced a porcelain teapot and two small cups from the kitchen, and poured a cup of green-coloured tea for each dog. A sharp herbal aroma wafted up to Weskar's nose, and Syenna noticed his dubiously appraisal.

“I’m afraid that won’t taste very good, but it will help to purge the effects of the Kibble. Normally it would take weeks, but time is of the essence.”

Weskar wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he trusted the older female, so he took a sip. As predicted, it tasted very bitter. His displeasure must have registered on his face, and it earned a chuckle from Syenna. “Just swallow it quickly, young man!”

Weskar steeled himself and did as she said, trying to ignore the impulse to spit it out. Across the table, Sam followed suit. “Well, I don’t feel any different!” he said as he clonked the mug down.

“You will!” Then Syenna's manner became business-like once more. “You'll need some time to get used to the Outside, and to study your book. I know just the place. There’s an old cabin up in the hills behind the village. It’s stocked with plenty of food and firewood. You can make yourselves at home for a few days!”

---

Back at Sophie’s house, they packed their rucksacks with delicious-smelling food parcels prepared by the ever-practical golden retriever. The supplies also included a bottle of water each. Weskar wondered about the need for the water, but he didn't want to seem rude by questioning the provisions.

Their city clothes, now clean and dry, hung over a rack in front of the wood stove. Weskar regarded the soft fabric of his shirt. They had seemed so fine and colourful in the city light, yet now they looked dull and out of place and he didn't want to put them on. Nobody wears shirts or pants anyway, he realised suddenly. Leaving their city clothes behind, both dogs pulled on their borrowed jackets and stepped out into the bright spring day.

Weskar was surprised to see Misha leaning nonchalantly against a tree outside the house. However, Sophie seemed to be expecting him, and favoured him with a smile.

“Ah, Misha! Could you take these boys up to the lodge, and make sure they know where everything is?”

Weskar found that he was pleased to see the tan dog again. Misha’s face held the same enigmatic look as it had the previous evening as he nodded to the older bitch, then beckoned.

“This way, folks!” What is it about that voice?, Weskar wondered, for Misha seemed oddly familiar. He must remind me of someone in the city.

They followed Misha in companionable silence as he led them through the trees. The winding path climbed a valley between steeper hills which drew closer as they walked. The drip and gurgle of water came from all around them as snow melted in the warm sun. Patches of bare ground and yellow grass showed through here and there, and many of the trees had shed their coats to reveal dark green needles.

A huge boulder jutted out of the ground beside the path, its ancient ice-carved flanks sloping up to a flat top where lichen drank in the welcome sunlight. Misha stopped before the edifice, then bounded up to stand on top. He stretched out his paws and lifted his nose to the empty blue sky, and a look of bliss touched his rugged features as he breathed the fresh spring air.

Weskar couldn’t help but admire his lean frame. Coarse golden-brown fur covered his shoulders and back, blending to a fine, light tan on his belly and down the insides of his arms and legs. A patch of fluffier fur ran down from his chest to his notable sheath. Weskar didn’t know why such details caught his attention, for they had never interested him much before. But the fresh air and the spreading sky above filled him with a great sense of excitement, and he leaped up on to the boulder to stand next to Misha. A grinning Sam scrambled up beside them.

“This is fantastic!” exclaimed Weskar. Misha’s expression was still hard to read, but Weskar thought he could see a little gleam in the tan dog’s eyes, and perhaps the hint of a smile. Had Misha noticed him staring? I should be embarrassed, he thought, but he didn't care. Then Misha gave him a little pat on the shoulder, and jumped back down.

As the continued up the trail, a very strange feeling came over Weskar. It began as a warmth which started in his inner core and radiated out towards his limbs. His skin tingled and itched uncomfortably, and suddenly he felt very thirsty. He slipped off his pack and pulled out the water bottle, fumbling in his haste to unscrew the lid. Finally he got it open and took a long drink.

Soothed by the cool water, he was about to put the bottle away when he noticed Misha watching him.

“You might want to keep that out,” he said, then turned and continued up the path before Weskar could ask why.

Weskar hefted his pack back onto his shoulders, but kept the water bottle in his paw. Sure enough, he soon needed to take another drink. He wasn’t alone, either, for Sam had also stopped to rummage in his pack.

Misha watched with a look of amusement tempered by concern. “Don’t worry. You’re feeling the effects of Syenna’s herbs. It will soon pass, and believe me, you'll feel a lot better.”

They walked on, Sam and Weskar both sipping from their water bottles. The water helped control the heat and itching, and Weskar was relieved when the feeling subsided again. His head still throbbed slightly, but the uncomfortable inner heat eased.

Suddenly Weskar realised that his bladder was very full. “Er... excuse me!” he squeaked as he rushed behind a tree. The sense of relief was so strong it made him dizzy. When he was finally finished, he stretched and trotted back to the path. Footprints in the snow disappearing behind the bushes on the other side of the track indicated that Sam had experienced the same urge. This time, Weskar was sure he saw a smile on Misha's face.

They soon rounded a bend and came to a clearing in the trees where they found a cabin made from neatly fitted logs. Misha swung the door open. Inside, the single-room building boasted simple but comfortable furnishings comprised of two beds, a table and chairs, and a wood stove. Bags and tins of preserved food stood in a neat row on a shelf above a wooden bench, while a ramshackle collection of pots and crockery jostled for space underneath.

Misha gave them a tour, showing them the tidy stack of firewood on the porch, and the tap which delivered water from a spring. “If it freezes up,” he said, “you’ll have to fetch water with a bucket!”

A large and truly ancient bathtub sat stoically in a lean-to room on the end of the cabin. Sam's eyes lit up with excitement when he saw the complicated arrangement of pipework which allowed the wood stove to heat the bath.

Tour over, Misha bid them goodbye, giving them each a hug and a small lick on the nose. “Don’t be surprised if you feel a bit odd,” he told them. “That Kibble affects your mind. You’ll feel different once it’s out of your system. Just stay calm, and you’ll get used to it. There’s enough food here for a few days, so take your time.”

With that, he gave them a wink, then jogged off down the path. Weskar watched the curve of his tail until it vanished into the trees.

“Look at this!” Sam grinned from ear to ear and spread his arms wide. “Talk about a great holiday! Our own cabin in the forest!”

Weskar unpacked their supplies, adding the various packages and bundles to the shelves. There were jars of salted meat, rice, flour, beans, root vegetables and even two freshly baked loaves of bread. A big jar of honey stood beside tins of dry crackers and biscuits, and a block of butter carefully wrapped in paper.

The thwack sound of an axe drifted in from behind the cabin as Sam cut firewood. A merry blaze soon crackled and popped in the wood stove, and then the Saint set about filling the bath tub. Weskar helped him to lift the heavy insulating lid into place. “Hot baths tonight!” he said with a grin.

They stood together in front of the cabin and gazed out at the surrounding forest. As they watched, a tiny purple butterfly flitted through a shaft of sunlight between the trees. The world was shrugging off the icy grip of winter with every clump of snow which fell from the trees, and Weskar felt the growing energy of the coming spring.

The Shepherd longed to test his muscles and explore the freedom of this outside world, and his gaze came to rest on a hill which rose above the forest. “I'm going for a walk up there,” he said, pointing. “Coming?”

Sam's eyebrow rose in a quizzical expression. “Um... I think I'll stay here and start looking through the Structions. Besides, someone has to tend to the fire!”

“Suit yourself!” Weskar squeezed the big dog's shoulder, then set off at a trot through the trees.

The Shepherd exalted once again in the thrill of running free without walls to stop him. And this time, the sun shone down and he knew his friends were safe. He dodged around trees and splashed through patches of melting slush. The rising slope soon had him panting, and his pace fell to a trot and then a walk. The blood sang in his veins and his legs ached, but it was a good ache, the feeling of working hard in order to get somewhere.

He emerged from the trees onto a rocky crag at the top of the hill, and a panoramic view opened out as he scrambled up. Smoke rose from the houses of the village, and beyond that lay a great sweep of valley and mountains. Tilled fields made geometric shapes on the flat ground beyond the village, and he imagined the bustle of agriculture which would soon commence as the snow melted and the ground warmed. Here was the idyllic scene straight from the Outside myths, lacking only the shining presence of the Providers to watch over them. He now knew the truth behind that part of the stories, and he knew they would have to provide for their own survival with hard work and determination.

The mountain rose from the forest to the east, towering above the hill where he stood. It’s somewhere under there, he thought. All of it – his family, his job, the records building... all somewhere under the rock of that mountain. The city had once contained the entire breadth of his experience, yet now it had shrunk to an overcrowded cave lost beneath the rocky expanse of the mountain, while above him spread an empty and endless sky. The hills and the sky and the trees... these were ancient. They didn’t care. The canines were small and insignificant, a tiny speck on a vast landscape. And yet Weskar rejoiced in this feeling of insignificance. I'm free, he thought.

It was afternoon by the time the tired but satisfied Shepherd arrived back at the cabin. His nose detected a delicious smell long before he reached the clearing. Bounding in the door, he discovered Sam dressed in a faded cotton apron. A pan of eggs and spicy meat sizzled on the wood stove and the big Saint frowned in concentration as he stirred the mixture. He turned as the smaller dog entered, and his tail fanned the air.

“Just in time, Mr Weskar! You must have smelled lunch!”

Weskar laughed. “Well I'm certainly getting hungry. Where did you learn to cook?”

“Watching Sohpie. I hope it's OK.” He squinted down at the pan, and his ears drooped in concern.

Weskar felt a glow of affection for the fluffy Saint. He reached up and licked Sam's wrinkled nose as he stifled a grin. Silly dog. “It smells amazing. I'm sure it will be fantastic!”

He rummaged in the shelves until he found passable plates and forks, and then sliced some bread while Sam finished cooking. Before long they were tucking in to Sam's first culinary attempt, and it turned out to be even better then it smelled.

“Make any progress with the Structions?” Weskar asked as he licked the last egg yolk from his plate.

The Saint frowned, and waved a paw towards a page full of indecipherable notes he'd made during the morning. “Some, but it's frustrating. I keep finding little references and tit-bits, but nothing is complete.”

---

As the setting sun dropped towards the distant mountains, a shaft of orange light filtered down through a gap in the pines. It moved up the wall of the rustic cabin until it flooded in through the dusty window and fell upon the pillow where a black nose twitched and sneezed.

Weskar had only meant to test the comfort of the bed, but it was easy to drift off to sleep after his morning exercise and satisfying lunch. He arched his back and stuck out his paws in a luxurious stretch before he sat up.

The effects of Syenna's herbal brew had worn off, and restlessness filled Weskar. He wanted something... but what? An odd thrill of excitement tingled in his paws and his belly as he wandered out of the cabin. He wasn't wearing any clothes, and the cool air caressed his fur.

He found Sam in the bath house. Steam billowed from the tub as the big dog tested the water with his paw. “Ooo, that’s lovely!” he grinned. He leaning against the tub, his tail wagging slowly, and Weskar's gaze fell to the soft white fur of his tummy. “Care to join me?” the Saint gave a shy smile, and something about the way he looked stirred the Shepherd's excitement.

Sam lowered himself slowly into the hot water. “Oh yes!” he said with a sigh. Weskar noticed that his practical friend had made allowance for his significant displacement when he filled the bath, and the water level now lapped much closer to the top.

“There should be room!” Sam chuckled, looking up from the steaming surface. “My calculations anticipate minor overflow.”

Good humour twinkled in the Saint Bernard's soft eyes as Weskar stepped carefully over the rim and into the water. Sam was watching him with obvious interest, and Weskar noticed when the Saint's eyes strayed to his sheath.

The steaming bathwater conformed to Sam's predictions by sloshing over the rim as Weskar sat back with a sigh. Two dogs in the tub made for a crowd despite the large size of the bath, but it was a friendly crowd. Weskar slid down until only the top of his head protruded, and he found his hind paws resting on Sam's shoulders. It didn't seem strange at all to let his toes caress the Saint's ear.

He still felt restless despite the soothing water. His heart beat faster than it ought to, and his skin tingled. Sitting so close to his naked friend, he noticed details which had not previously caught his attention. The big Saint had an open, friendly face, and a smile was never far from his deep eyes. He's always been there for me, Weskar thought. I hope I deserve it.

The curves of that solid, muscular body drew his gaze, and he longed to bury his face in the deep fur of the Saint’s chest. New and scarcely comprehended feelings gripped Weskar, and he had no idea what to do. It's a bath, he thought. You could start by washing your fur.

He ran his paws through the tangles in his coat, teasing out the grit collected during their long journey. He looked up to find that Sam's eyes were on him.

“I have something that might help,” Sam said, leaning over the side and rummaging under the towels. When he straightened, Weskar saw the little brush, gift from Branley Bear, cradled in his paw. “Perfect!” He exclaimed as Sam handed it to him.

But the closeness of that large Saint body distracted Weskar, and his own fur took a low priority. I know what I want to do... he thought. Do I dare?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned forward, brush in paw, and applied it to Sam's coat instead. He started with those broad shoulders, but before long he allowed his attentions to stray onto the Saint's fluffy chest. Being soft and thick, Sam's coat was more matted than his own, and he worked gently but diligently at the tangles. Application of soap and paw-fulls of water helped to work the dirt out of the mottled white and tan fur.

After a while he felt Sam shift, and a little flash of worry broke his rhythm. What if he doesn't like it?, he wondered. But when he looked up, Sam's eye's were half-shut in a blissful daze. Can't be too bad. He felt a growing thrill at being so close to the big dog.

Working his way downwards, he rinsed Sam's arms and fore-paws, then moved his attentions to Sam’s belly. He stopped for a moment when his paws brushed Sam’s furry sheath, for it was a personal area that even good friends would normally respect. But a strong urge to explore his friend’s body gripped Weskar, and he had already abandoned convention in favour of instinct. His fingers teased at the Saint’s sheath, working the dirt out of his fur while he marvelled at the feeling of another dog's cock under his paws. After that, it required only a small step to let his paws glide over those large fuzzy Saint Bernard balls. Weskar's excitement increased as he felt their weight and firmness.

He heard Sam’s breath come more quickly, and he glanced up, embarrassed. But a dreamy expression remained on the big canine's face, and he showed no sign of complaint.

Weskar finished his ministrations with the Saint's muscular legs. He felt a note of disappointment when he completed the dog's huge hind paws, for he no longer had any excuse to rub Sam's body. But on the other paw... He handed the brush to Sam. “Your turn!”

To Weskar's surprise, the Saint hesitated. Weskar noticed a look of discomfort on his face. “I'm a technician,” he mumbled. “I'm really better at fixing machines!”

Beneath Sam's attempt at flippancy, Weskar detected something else. He's not happy about something, Weskar thought. He's afraid! But why? Whatever the reason, it pained Weskar to see his friend in such an uncomfortable state. He reached out his paw and stroked Sam's fluffy cheek. At least the Saint didn't flinch or pull away.

“You like to hide in those machines,” Weskar said, his voice low, as insight hit him. “What's really the matter?”

Sam stared fixedly at the brush which now rested awkwardly in his paw. “I guess...” He cleared his throat. “I guess after what happened when we were puppies, I've always been scared of getting too close. In case somebody gets hurt.”

“When we were puppies? What are you talking about?”

Weskar tried to remember any incidents from their puppyhood which might explain Sam's strange behaviour, but he could not.

“We were playing Fetchball. Don't you remember? You were winning – you always were faster than me – and I was determined to get the next one. It went high, and I was so busy watching it, I ran right into you and knocked you over. You grazed your paw, and I remember you crying. You looked so upset, and I felt terrible. I was determined to be more careful after that!”

Weskar felt tears well up in his eyes. Poor Sam, worrying about something like that! Weskar couldn't even recall the incident.

“Oh Sam!” he said, and he picked up the big dog's paw and held it against his own cheek. “You want to know what I remember? I remember the best friend a lonely young dog could ask for. I remember a dog who always had time to play with me and who always looked out for me. I DON'T remember being hurt while we played, although I suppose it might have happened. I obviously forgot about it straight away!”

Sam sniffed, and his face brightened at Weskar's words.

“Now come on!” the Shepherd continued, guiding the paw with the brush towards his chest fur. “Someone still needs to tidy up my fur, and it's your turn!”

Tentatively at first, but with a smile, Sam applied the brush to the Shepherd's fur. Weskar took his turn to relax and accept the grooming, although he sneaked admiring glances at Sam's naked body whenever he could. Sam seemed more confident by the time he had finished, and Weskar even felt those very large paws straying close to his own sheath.

Sam set the brush down and then, quite unexpectedly, he reached forward to grasp Weskar’s shoulders, and bent to kiss him, his large tongue slipping into Weskar’s mouth. The Saint's body was tense as he struggled with his doubts, but as soon as their muzzles met, Weskar felt him relax.

“Thank you, Weskar. I’m glad you’re here – there’s nobody else I would rather be on an adventure with.”

It suddenly seemed very pleasing to Weskar, and very important, that Sam wanted to give him attention. Then he felt one of Sam’s fingers trace down around his belly fur. His excitement grew as it caressed his sheath and balls, and finally slipped under his tail. He gasped a little at this new sensation, although it felt intensely, sensuously good.

Sam shifted his attention to rinsing the fur down Weskar’s sides and back. “Sorry... I don’t know why I did that!” He sounded bashful, but a hint of a smile still showed in his eyes.

A comfortable silence followed as they lay back in the steamy water. Weskar caressed the Saint's huge rear paws, marvelling at their size and strength.

Eventually, Sam sat up again. “I think that’s enough bath for me!” he said. “I’m going wrinkly!”

“You already were!” smirked Weskar as Sam climbed out, taking a significant proportion of the water with him. It cascaded off his flanks and tail to flow in a river across the wooden planking of the floor.

A small space and a large wet dog... “Go outside if you're going to shake!” Weskar cried, envisioning a deluge of water saturating everything in the room. Fortunately, the big dog heeded his advice, and Weskar eased himself out of the tub - now sadly depleted of water - and followed Sam out the door.

Outside, the sun had long since set and the first stars were twinkling in a deep indigo sky. The warmth of the day had fled with the sun, and the slushy snow had already frozen solid.

Sheets of water flew in all directions as Sam shook himself vigorously from nose to tail. Steam rose from his wet fur as the heat of the bath met the cold air. Weskar joined in the shake, feeling the weight of the water vanish. Shaking always felt great, especially so out here under the cold bright stars.

“Race you around the house!” laughed Sam, and set off at a run. Weskar chased after him, leaping over snowdrifts and dodging around logs. Exhilaration surged through the Shepherd as he raced naked through the chilly forest, with the icy air ruffling his damp fur. The Saint Bernard was slower, and Weskar could have caught him easily, but he let Sam stay a little ahead until he slithered to a halt on the doorstep after two laps of the cabin. Then Weskar pounced on his friend and grabbed a mouthful of Sam’s neck fur in a mock bite. Sam opened the door and they tumbled inside, where they stood panting in front of the fire while their fur steamed in the stove's warmth.

Sam's fluffy tail swishing the air slowly as he watched Weskar. “That was fun!” he said at last. He took an oil lamp from the shelf and lit the wick with a match, and a cheerful orange glow replaced the darkness in the cabin.

Puzzled and inexplicably excited, Weskar watched as the Saint wandered nonchalantly to the bed and sat down. Weskar followed him, heart pounding. Something new stirred inside him, and it made the Saint Bernard beside him look ever more enticing. He’d known Sam since they were puppies, and he knew the shape of his friend’s canine body well. He’d often admired that large form, but never had it excited him like it did now. He wanted to give himself over to that strength. He wanted Sam. He wanted to be held tightly by him.

It seemed that Sam was also in the grip of unusual desires. He reached out as if to stroke the Shepherd’s fur. His paw hesitated, and Weskar saw another flicker of doubt on the Saint's open face. Before it could take hold, Weskar grabbed the paw and pressed it to his cheek, while he stroked Sam's silky ear with his other paw. He could feel Sam gaining confidence as his fingers moved over Weskar's ears.

Weskar sighed and wrapped his arm around Sam, burying his nose in the big dog’s thick chest ruff as he had been wanting to do all evening. Beneath the tang of soap, Weskar's nose detected the dog's strong, musky smell which was at once so familiar and yet so new. He leaned gently on his friend and Sam yielded, lying down on the mattress. Weskar snuggled beside him and began to stroke Sam’s chest and work his way down Sam’s belly, exploring eagerly with his paws. A fuzz of fur covered the big dog's ample sheath, and its secret promise fascinated the Shepherd.

What did he want? He ran his hands gently down Sam’s groin, massaging the large, fuzzy balls. Under the skin of Sam’s sheath, he felt the slick shape of the dog’s cock. And then Weskar knew that he wanted that cock. He wanted to be held by the big dog and feel that smooth shaft inside him.

But that's crazy, he thought. The Canines had evolved beyond such crude biological activity! It was completely unheard of. Had coming Outside reduced them to the level of the common animals?

Weskar didn’t care. He moved up to kiss Sam on the mouth, allowing his tongue to explore. “Sam...” he murmured. “I want....”

“Shhh.” Sam ran his paws down Weskar’s tummy. “So do I.”

Sam moved to kneel between Weskar’s legs, and his paws caressed the Shepherd’s soft chest fur. Growing more confident, he teased his way down Weskar's tummy fur, and the Shepherd closed his eyes and lay back. That heavy Saint Bernard frame held so much strength, yet he caressed Weskar's fur so gently. Weskar shivered as Sam bent down and began to lick at at his balls. His tongue was huge and very dexterous. Then he felt it move up his sheath, and finally dip inside to brush the tip of his cock.

Weskar tingled from head to toe, and he felt a growing ache in his loins. Sam gripped his waist with a firm but gentle hold, and Weskar helped as Sam manoeuvred him to the edge of the bed. He opened his eyes and watched, dizzy with anticipation as Sam, now standing on the floor, leaned forward.

Sam grasped Weskar’s waist firmly, and Weskar’s tail moved to one side of its own accord as the bid dog’s sheath brushed his fur. He could see the growing excitement on Sam's face as he pushed forward gently with his hips, until the tip of Sam’s cock pressed into his tight hole. It was a crazy thing to do, yet Weskar wanted to feel that cock inside him, wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted before. And he knew, somehow, that Sam wanted to take him and penetrate him. Something primeval gripped the two dogs, and it tossed aside all their layers of rational objection as easily as so many dry autumn leaves.

Sam found his target and pressed in harder, but this made Weskar gasp in pain. The big dog pulled back, and Weskar saw concern overrule desire on his face. Then his tail wagged as an idea came to him.

“Wait right there!” he whispered, and went to retrieve something from a cupboard. He returned with a bottle of clear syrupy liquid in his paw. Weskar saw the word “Lubricant” on the label.

“Somebody slipped this into my pack. I just figured out what it's for.”

Weskar caught his breath as Sam rubbed the cold silky liquid into his tailhole. As it warmed, the stab of cold changed to intense sensual pleasure. This time when Sam grasped his waist with his large paws and pushed forward, Weskar felt a slick shape move inside him.

Excitement mingled with apprehension in Weskar's mind, but excitement soon won out. The Saint's cock felt firm and smooth but not large - at least not at first - and the big dog moved with gentle precision despite his size. Weskar caught his breath at the unusual sensation, but desire washed away all discomfort, and replaced it with a spreading warmth which soon became exquisite pleasure.

Sam's eyes reflected his own passion, and he revelled in his ability to excite the large dog and give him pleasure. Sam thrust deeper, and he felt the dog's cock swell inside him as it become hard and erect. Panting, Sam buried his large paws in Weskar’s fur and rubbed his sides, his chest, his neck as he worked his cock in and out. Weskar could feel a tingling thrill running through his whole body from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail. He wrapped his rear paws around Sam, and pulled him close in time with the big dog’s thrusts so that he could get as much as possible of that hard shaft inside him.

Sam bent down and began to nibble the Shepherd’s neck and ears, finally kissing him full on the mouth, this time letting his tongue linger and explore. Weskar let his own tongue slip into the Saint’s larger mouth, while his paws stroked at Sam’s sides. It felt amazing to be held, penetrated, owned by that magnificent male body.

Suddenly a boulder seemed to be growing inside Weskar as the Saint's knot swelled, locking his cock into a tie. Weskar felt a moment's panic, for he hadn't appreciated the Saint's impressive size. What if he was injured? But the swelling soon reached its maximum, and Weskar experienced nothing more than a satisfying fullness. He abandoned himself to a wave of indescribable sensation.

His pleasure was partly physical, for the massive cock locked inside him produced intense stimulation. But the feeling of being taken, held and filled by a strong virulent male also gave Weskar a wonderful feeling of joy. Sam’s muscular midriff and broad hips were a solid weight against his groin, and he could feel the big Saint Bernard sheath pressed against his rear.

Sam still thrust against the smaller dog despite his cock being locked deep inside Weskar. His breathing grew short, and a moan escaped his throat, and suddenly Weskar could feel the huge member begin to pulse. Sam shuddered as his muscles contracted and his cum poured into Weskar, his tail flagging downwards with each pulse. A wave of warmth washed through the Shepherd, moving outwards until it filled him.

Sam gasped and panted as the pulses of his cock slowed. He held Weskar tightly, his eyes closed. His cock remained huge and rock hard inside Weskar, even as his climax ebbed. He climbed carefully onto the bed, shuffling Weskar over until they could lie down together. Weskar snuggled back against the Saint's warm bulk, lost in a dreamy daze.

“Oh wow...” Sam raised a paw to stroke Weskar’s ears. “That was amazing!”

Then Sam’s eyes moved down Weskar’s lithe tan body, settling on the swelling visible in the Shepherd's sheath. Precum seeped from the protruding tip of his cock.

“I guess you like it too!” said Sam, exploring Weskar’s cock with his paws. Though smaller than the Saint's, it was still a nice size, well proportioned to the Shepherd's smaller stature.

Sam caressed the tip, massaging it through Weskar’s soft sheath fur. Then he worked his way down to the swollen knot at its base, where he carefully squeezed and massaged the large swelling. The big dog's paws moved expertly over Weskar's sensitive parts, and Weskar felt a burning sensation building in his member, and also deeper inside where he was still full of the Saint’s warmth. It was a strong and enjoyable feeling, and it made him want more.

Sam slid Weskar’s sheath back to reveal the hard pink length of his shaft, while continuing to massage Weskar's knot. Weskar let out a gasp as a wave of sensation swept over him, and suddenly his muscles clenched and a jet of watery cum exploded out of him, soaking his fur. A warm sea of ecstasy enveloped him, and he felt only the heavy fullness of Sam's cock inside him and the big dog's firm grasp on his own throbbing member.

The tide slowly receded and he became aware of his surroundings again, while a warm glow of satisfaction filled him.

“See?” said Sam, looking at him with a grin.

Weskar’s breath was slowly returning to normal as well.

“Wow!” he murmured, stroking Sam's thick fur. “Now I understand what Syenna meant about feeling different!”

His knot had already started to shrink back to its normal size, but the Saint's cock, locked inside him, remained huge and hard.

Weskar giggled and licked at Sam's nose. “What do we do now?” he said.

“Wait, I guess.” A big paw wrapped around Weskar and held him tight, and the Saint's closeness gave him a feeling of contentment that he had never before known. “I don't have anywhere I need to be.”

They lay together in a sleepy silence for a long time, completely at ease. Eventually Sam stopped pulsing, and his shrinking cock slipped out of Weskar. Feeling warm and fulfilled, and also a little relieved to be free, Weskar rolled on to his back. He contemplated his sticky fur.

“What a mess! We’ll need another bath!”

By way of reply, Sam hooked a towel off the back of the chair and dabbed at the Shepherd's fur. “I dunno,” he chuckled. “I think you smell pretty good covered in cum. Very sexy.”

The comfortable silence lasted a while before Sam continued. “How did he know?”

“Hmm?” murmured Weskar, half asleep already.

“Branley Bear. That little brush. It was just what we needed.”

Sleep tugged at Weskar's mind. He's talking about more than just the brush, but he doesn't know how to say it. A huge yawn cut off any further introspection, and instead he pulled a blanket over them. Sam snuggled close, wrapping his big paws around the smaller dog, and Weskar drifted away to the gentle sound of Sam's breathing.