Premium quality ingredients.

Author's warning: This story contains man on dog bestiality. It contains watersports. Instead of reading this you should have a cup of tea and a bit of a lie-down.

A man orders premium food

For his dog who grows larger and lewd.

There's sleeping while fucking

And piss-drinking sucking.

It ends with them [spoilers removed]

Chapter 1.

The nutritional information looked fantastic. In terms of dietary makeup the kibble was almost identical to the Supreme Quality dog-food that cost five times more. The list of ingredients was a bit… vague: Wild-caught prey animals such as venison and boar, fresh-caught seafood such as tuna and squid. I assumed the manufacturers had contracts with non-commercial hunters so the actual ingredients varied from batch to batch depending on seasonal availability. That was probably how they managed to keep the price so reasonable.

But the nutritional analysis was guaranteed and the company had a pledge: You will be 100% satisfied in every way or twice your money back. And they delivered to your door – something important in these days of lockdowns and social distancing.

Obviously they weren't a big name-brand dog-food supplier – I noticed a couple of errors on their website in the payment section. I smirked at 'Vici' and 'MonsterCard' as their preferred forms of payment. Or perhaps the misspellings were deliberate. The company name was 'Marchosias' – named after a wolf-aspected Marquis of Hell – so probably the theme of their brand was demons.

I hesitated. Anything which looks too good to be true always turns out to be a disappointment. Still, it wasn't a lot of money so I selected the 5kg bag of their Large Dog formula and entered my credit card details and delivery address. The website gave a delivery time of 'instant'. It wouldn't matter if it took a few days as there was still half a bag of my regular dog-food remaining.

I clicked the 'Confirm' button.

There was a knock on my door.

Outside, on my front landing, was a 5kg sack of Marchosias™ Premium Large Dog dry food.

What the…? There was no delivery van and the street was otherwise deserted. I lifted the bag and brought it into the kitchen. Well that was an amazing coincidence! I mused. I guessed the company must have been running a promotion in my neighbourhood. But the website was already flashing a 'delivered' notification on my order. Weird.

Now, let me tell you a bit about my useless guard dog, Aamon. He was a generally lazy three year old Dobermann. Walking around the block was a chore. He was a picky eater who would mess around with his dinner, wanting to chew each individual kibble only after dropping it on the kitchen floor. We'd tried a dozen different brands trying to find something he was enthusiastic about. His dull, soot-and-rust coat matched his lack-lustre energy levels. My veterinarian assured me Aamon was in perfect health with perfect bloodwork. Just… not thriving. He wasn't overweight at 35kg. But he lacked musculature so appeared pudgy.

When I opened the new bag Aamon didn't lift his head from the couch.

The food looked and smelled fine – much the same as any other dry kibble. Suddenly Aamon was standing next to me and drooling, wagging his stubby tail.

“You wanna try your new food, boy?" I offered Aamon a few kibbles in my open hand. I was expecting him to react the way he reacts to any new dog-food: Take one kibble, mouth it for a bit, drop it on the floor, take another kibble, drop it next to the first, take a third, drop it, crunch the first kibble and leave soggy bits. Crunch the second one leaving more soggy bits. And ignore the third one.

I was not expecting to almost lose my hand as he snapped the kibbles out of my palm and swallowed them so fast I thought he was inhaling them.

“Woah! Okay, so we may have actually found a food you like! Good boy!" I gave him another handful (Shite! Those teeth snapping against the palm of my hand were a bit startling for me!) “Careful! Gently! Geeze! Well, you have to wait for dinner-time for more."

When I've previously tried Aamon on a new food (and I've tried them all – kibble, raw, wet; every brand, every style) he is inevitably blasé. He'll pick at his dinner grudgingly and slowly consume each tiny portion.

But this time he was actually enthusiastic. It amazed me how he could vacuum each morsel of this new food out of his bowl in seconds while leaving every single kibble of his old food in the bowl. Aamon sat back looking at me expectantly with his bowl still half full with his old food.

“Crikey! You really do like your new food, huh? Well, I can give you little more." I poured another cupful into his bowl.

By the end of the week the 5kg bag of food was nearly empty. It was time to order a new bag. On the Marchosias™ website there was a 10kg option for their large-breed food so I ordered the bigger bag. It would save me having to order every week. I paid with their mistyped payment options and confirmed my order.

There was a knock on my door. Aamon's ears pricked up and he trotted to the hall.

No way… On my front doorstep was a 10kg bag of Marchosias™ Premium Large Dog dry food.

The street was deserted. Confounded, I carried the bag to the kitchen. There was something a little unsettling about getting a delivery a half second after clicking 'Confirm' on an order. Perhaps the company was so confident in the quality of their food they would pre-order a new delivery a week after your first. It was the only explanation which made sense to me. I mean, what else could it have been?

Surely the front door camera could allay some of my confusion. Aamon followed me to the office where I could review the doorcam videos. There was a file for an event captured a few minutes ago when the food was delivered. The video showed my empty front landing. Some sort of bird or bug for a few frames obscured the camera. And there sitting on my porch was a 10kg sack of dogfood looking all innocent. Bah. The camera must have glitched.

A video file from a week earlier corresponded to when my first 5kg bag was delivered. Again, the bare landing. And then… it seemed the sun darkened (a cloud, maybe?). The doorcam switched aperture, losing focus for a second. Then there was a sack of dog-food on my landing. No way! That was too much coincidence for my liking. I stepped the video backward, frame by frame. Dog-food… blur… darkness… empty landing. No, wait… there had been something in the darkest frame. I brightened the frame and increased the contrast. There was definitely something. A bit more contrast… Oh. Teeth. Lots of teeth.

Right now I imagine you're thinking I should have thrown out the food, wiped my computer, and moved to some other country. Because honestly that would have been the perfectly sensible reaction to seeing that frame on my screen.

Except obviously it was just noise on the video. Or lens flare. And my dog was so relishing his new food. The effort of trying another different brand was an insurmountable task. There were a dozen ways my brain rationalized away the awful image on the monitor.

So… life went on.

Aamon thrived. He really did. Where before you'd have used words like 'dull' and 'lacklustre' to describe his coat, you'd now use words like 'sleek' and 'shiny'. Daily walks around the block were barely restrained joy for the dog. He trotted proudly, sniffed everything, marked everything, and constantly wagged the nub of his tail. Every person he met was his Best Friend For Life. Every other dog he met was… well… hesitant. Aamon was friendly but other dogs were more cautious and a bit intimidated.

His one block walk became two blocks, then four. Where he'd been a bit roundish he was now trim with better muscle definition across his shoulders and haunches. Compared to the dog he'd been a few weeks ago Aamon was now a prime example of the Dobermann breed. His coat was glossy ebony- and mahogany-coloured, satin smooth. He constantly appeared to smile, with ears up and forward, attentive and enthusiastic.

His teeth seemed whiter. And… well… toothier.

My physique changed too. The bathroom mirror had disappointed me in the past, showing me a slightly overweight and unkempt person. But over time there were fewer saggy bits on the figure staring back at me. My fitness levels increased with the longer walks.

In the best tradition of cognitive dissonance I ignored the impossible delivery of Aamon's food. My brain shied away from questioning how a company could deliver my order within half a second of confirmation. It was… well it was damned convenient. And the food was so good for my dog. I wasn't brave enough to re-examine the door-cam footage too closely – it surely was faulty anyway.

Chapter 2.

Consciousness came to me the way a swimmer rises from murky depths.

I have always been a tentative sleeper. Everything wakes me up. Car drives past at 3:00am, I'll wake. House creaks, I'll wake. Owl hoots, I'll wake. And then I'll have to get a glass of water. And then I'll have to pee or I won't fall asleep. I can't wear pyjamas in bed – everything bunches up, or constricts, or twists, or feels clammy. So I stay nude between the sheets. I don't think I've ever had an uninterrupted night of rest.

It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, when I awoke one morning absolutely refreshed. I mean, I felt amazing as though I'd slept the best night ever in my life. And I'd dreamt… something. I couldn't exactly recall but it had been profoundly erotic. I blushed hotly, although specific details eluded me. Fleeting half-memories of warm wetness drifted around my cock, so good I'd orgasmed in my sleep. I hadn't had a wet dream since I was a teenager. Oddly there was no evidence on the sheets. But man, I did feel so refreshed!

Aamon was laying on the floor next to the bed. Wait, that can't be right… Aamon's bed was in the lounge because the sound of his breathing would keep me awake. Ah well… I guess I must have been so tired last night I'd accidentally let him into my bedroom when I retired. He noticed me looking at him; he wagged his stubby tail. He was grinning like the happy dog he'd become.

I let Aamon out to the yard to relieve himself while I performed my own morning ablutions. When I was done in the bathroom I dressed and went to the back door to let the dog into the house. Man, I felt fantastic.

Aamon was in the yard chewing on the leg of a dead, full-grown stag. It was just there, splayed on my lawn. Dead. I stood in the doorway with my jaw hanging open, staring at it. The nearest forest was 20km away. This was the suburbia. 300kg of Red Deer stag should not be in the middle of my lawn, alive or dead.

“Aamon! Come! Leave it!" I commanded. He stood and took a pace toward me, but then turned toward the stag. “No! Leave it! Inside!" Briefly the dog hesitated, then reluctantly slunk into the house. I had no plan to deal with a dead deer. What if it had been someone's pet and Aamon had killed it (impossible as that could have been). Dogs were taken away and put down for killing stock. I locked Aamon in the lounge and returned to the yard to determine what I would do with the deer carcass.

Except the deer was gone.

There was a blood stain on the grass – a big blood stain. But no body. Had it… had it only been wounded? Christ, what if there was a wounded deer hobbling around the neighbourhood?

There was a knock on my door. What now?

On my front landing sat two 10kg bags of Marchosias™ Premium Large Dog dry food.

Now… we cope. We do. Stuff happens, but we cope. Auto-pilot takes over, we do the necessary things, and we soldier on. I carried the bags of food to the kitchen. I hadn't ordered them and wasn't due to place my order for another few days.

I phoned Animal Control to report a wounded deer – the officer sounded dubious but thanked me for my report.

Time passes.

Aamon put on weight. Quite a bit, actually. At the veterinarian's office the scales reported he'd become a hefty 45kg dog. The veterinarian commented how Aamon had developed into a magnificent creature. The dog's bloodwork was perfect, his condition was glorious, and whatever I'd changed in his diet was something close to miraculous. Keep doing what you're doing, he said. Don't be concerned about his weight gain – it's all muscle. Probably a late spurt of growth. Aamon was looking absolutely fantastic, the best he'd ever seen him. And so on. If the vet was happy, I was happy.

I experienced another of those gloriously restful nights, waking as though I'd slept a full week of the deepest sleep. Honestly, for someone who previous had intermittent dozing, waking up after a full night of deep slumber is the best feeling in the world. But I felt chilled – the bedclothes were bunched at the foot of the bed and I was lying naked, uncovered. My cock was erect and aching. Fragments darted across my memory; erotic fantasies of clenching warmth, stroking flesh. And orgasm – intense, prolonged, powerful. Fleeting images of warm holes overflowing with my cum. Gods, I haven't had a dream like that since high-school!

Aamon grinned a toothy smile at the foot of my bed.

But that couldn't be right – I remembered putting the dog to bed in the lounge and I'd definitely latched the door to my bedroom. I sat up, then winced at a brief stinging pain in my side. There were four claw marks along my hip. They had not been there the night before. Had Aamon been up on the bed? He was definitely not allowed on the bed! I ushered him out of my room.

Wisps of erotic visions tattered in the morning light and washed down the drain with my shower. But the thought something had been going on while I slept was unsettling. But the morning fog of disquiet at my dream evaporated with daily routine.

There was a large and very dead wild boar on my lawn. A Dobermann dog gnawed on the pig's tail. I was quite sure wild boar weren't even native to this country. And I was quite sure it was dead. Oh gods, that's a mess. Aamon's whole head was coated in blood. He had definitely been … You know what, I don't even want to think about it. I averted my eyes from the horror on the lawn and called Aamon to heel. He slunk into the house. I towelled the dog's head to verify none of the blood was his.

Of course, Aamon was fine – not a scratch. And the boar was… Gone. Just… gone. Not even any left-over bits (oh gods, don't think about it). Just a drying red stain on the lawn.

There were two large bags of dog-food on my front landing.

I hadn't paid for - hadn't even ordered - any dog-food for months. Yet there it was. An irrational thought about these bags being payment for the dead pig flashed through my mind. No, that way leads to crazy talk.

Life goes one.

Aamon became the largest Dobermann I'd ever seen. I stopped weighing the dog because I feared the veterinarian might accuse me of giving Aamon growth hormones. The dog now outweighed me. And… I mean I wasn't deliberately looking but it became difficult to ignore… Aamon's balls were larger. Like, indecently larger. A year ago he'd had balls the size of acorns. Now he sported a hefty sack holding two golf-balls swinging between his rear legs. A thick sheath hung from his abdomen.

I dreamed: It was summer. I was sucking a popsicle but the ice was hot instead of cold. The flavoured liquid was sweet but also slightly salty. I swallowed and swallowed, drinking down nectar. Somehow it was sexual and erotic and I orgasmed without waking.

In the morning I arose refreshed and reinvigorated.

I dreamed: The doctor needed to examine my prostate. He gently swabbed a soft, warm sponge over my anus. The sensation was erotic and I got a hard-on. I was embarrassed but he said it didn't matter – getting aroused was natural while he applied lube. He jabbed a finger into my butt-hole. The sensation was sudden and shocking. Another finger joined the first – the doctor wasn't gentle. The examination was rough and constantly bordered on painful. I'd just get used to his fingers and he'd add another digit. He probed me deeply, stretching me. I wanted to protest, make him stop or at least be more gentle. Somehow his whole fist was past my sphincter. But his fingers massaged my prostate and the pleasure overwhelmed the pain. I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to continue. And somehow he was filling me with hot lube like liquid fire in my bowels. In my fantasy the sensations overwhelmed me and my cock spurted cum at the doctor. I should have been ashamed but I was lost in pleasure.

There were red scratches on my side when I woke. The sheets were on the floor. Although I knew I'd slept deeply, my muscles felt taut as if I'd been running in the night. Aamon was laying on the end of the bed despite having been locked out in the lounge. He… he winked at me. Yeah, I know: Dogs don't wink. So obviously I imagined it. I also imagined that his eyes were glowing in the morning light. He grinned at me with teeth sharper than I remembered.

But he was still my dog and he wasn't supposed to be on the bed. I commanded him to get down. I imagined I saw a fleeting expression of disappointment on his face. But he slipped his front paws off the bed. He stretched his body, leisurely shuffling forward. He dragged his belly and back legs along the sheets before slipping off and standing at the foot of the bed.

As I stood my body felt… used. And horny and vaguely aching.

I freed Aamon into the yard then I hid in the laundry room and parted the curtains to watch. The dog trotted and sniffed around the yard. He found the perfect spot to lift his leg and pee. Nothing unusual there. Well… except perhaps the wisp of smoke curling up from the shrub he'd pissed on. I supposed it was steam in the cool morning air.

What was unusual was the large oval of swirling black smoke that appeared in front of my dog. The core of the void shimmered with a pearlescent glow. Blue tendrils of electricity coruscated around the perimeter. Aamon trotted into the turbulent centre and both he and the cloud vanished with the quietest 'Pop' sound.

Moments later – I still hadn't processed what I'd just seen – the eldritch disk reappeared. Aamon's haunches appeared at the centre. He was bracing his back legs and hunching as though trying to drag something out of the void. More of the dog appeared, straining muscles at what he was hauling. Abruptly he stumbled backward as the nightmare he'd captured fell into the yard.

How do you describe a nightmare…? It was a sea-creature. It was somewhat like a colossal squid with many tentacles. It had clumped fur. And teeth. And too many eyes. It had two heads with flesh that looked like pallid jelly.

It was fighting Aamon and my dog was losing. His legs were fouled by the tentacles making his footing unsure. The snapping heads of the monstrosity latched onto Aamon's neck.

My rational mind was somewhere else and the lizardy bits of my brain assumed control. My dog was in trouble and needed help. Without transition I found myself in the yard swinging a baseball bat at one of the heads of the monster. I had the advantage of surprise and the bat impacted with a resounding 'Thwack'. The jaws of the monster released Aamon who immediately whipped his muzzle around and ….

The point is… between us we subdued and dispatched whatever horror Aamon had brought to the yard. The nightmare hadn't originated anywhere local. Like, definitely not this planet, local.

Aamon was injured. There were superficial puncture marks on the side of his neck which wouldn't require stitching. A deeper gash on his shoulder might need the vet to examine. The cut wasn't bleeding badly so not an imminent danger. I wasn't injured but I was covered in viscera and completely naked in my yard. Aamon and I limped away from the tangle of sea-creature. We sat on the steps and I hugged my dog.

The sea monster vanished. Well, not 'vanished' exactly – it was only in the afterimages of my mind I deciphered what happened: another portal had appeared, something large with many teeth and claws leapt forward, grabbed the pile of wet flesh and vanished into the portal. Perhaps one tenth of a second had elapsed.

I heard distant knocking on my front door.

Wearily my dog and I retreated into the house to clean up. I bathed Aamon's fur and disinfected the bite wounds. Then I had a long, hot shower.

After I was dressed and had retrieved the dog-food from the front landing – three bags and a packet of freeze-dried treats – I checked Aamon's wounds to assure myself I hadn't missed anything important. Except the cuts were almost entirely healed. Even as I watched, the torn wound on his shoulder closed and sealed. Oily smoke curled away from the wound as it healed. A moment later and only a scar remained. I ran my hand over the marred skin. It was hot as a brazier. Hugging Aamon was like hugging a woodstove. But I could tolerate the heat to make sure my boy was okay.

I dreamed: The summer popsicle scenario again, drinking the hot, sweet-salty ice. Then the popsicle was depleted – no matter how I licked and sucked the treat was stubbornly unproductive. All at once the popsicle melted. There was a deluge to swallow. The flavour had changed from salty-sweet to acrid and slightly bitter. I drank it all down – it was important not to let a drop escape. It seemed the popsicle was never-ending - I drank until I was bloated. At last the popsicle stopped melting and was gone. But I'd guzzled too much. I had an urgent need to pee. I couldn't retain so much. I should have woken but the dream wouldn't release me. So I peed. It was glorious, satisfying relief. I pissed and I pissed. And, fully emptied, I sank into a deeper slumber.

With sunrise the memories of my pissing in the night abruptly woke me. I scrabbled out of bed expecting to find the sheets wet and stained with my urine. I was hotly ashamed. Except the sheets were dry and pristine. I felt around with my hand – surely the mattress should be soaked. To my relief the nightmare hadn't manifested in the waking world.

Possibly for the first time in my life I didn't need to immediately retreat to the bathroom when I roused from the bed.

Aamon fretted at the door, whining for me to let him out to the yard. He marked every shrub, every fence post, every clump of grass. And still he stood and peed onto the lawn like a firehose. Probably I'd neglected to take him out before bed. Poor guy.

Many nights passed with ever more vivid and erotic visions of sucking and fucking, being fucked and filled. And over time Aamon became the subject of my fantasies. In the mornings as the visions dissipated Aamon would be on the bed, seemingly innocent. Some days in the garden a dead horror lay on stained grass before magically disappearing. Sacks of dogfood would just as magically appear – I hadn't actually needed to order food for Aamon in several months.

In the mirror a different person looked back at me. They had my face but more defined muscles over their chest and abdomen. They were fit and trim. And… lawdy, they had a bigger cock and balls. The reflection looked startled. Experimentally my reflection cupped his scrotum in his hand. Those balls were hefty. My reflection stroked his cock. When had my reflection's cock grown to ten inches of length? The pleasure of stroking my cock was amplified. I couldn't even wrap my fingers around the girth. My reflection's stomach muscles clenched from the stroking pleasure. Those hefty balls lifted upwards in building pleasure. With a spasm the cock in the mirror spat a wad of cum toward me. It impacted the glass with a wet splat then dribbled to the floor.

The final dream I dreamed was the most vivid.

Aamon trotted from a smoking portal into my bedroom. He carried an aura of eager anticipation, palpable in the way moved. As usual I was naked in bed. At seeing Aamon I immediately began feeling horny. The dog was the perfect vision of powerful masculinity. He was ebony and mahogany satin, taught over rippling musculature. Fully 90 kilograms of prime Dobermann dog approached me with smouldering lust in his eyes. My gaze was drawn to the heavy balls and thick sheath swaying beneath his belly. I had a burning need to be fucked by the canine monster.

As dreamscapes shift I found myself kneeling on my bed with my butt presented to my dog. Such was my arousal that pre-semen drooled a stream from my cock to the sheets below.

Aamon gracefully bounded onto the bed. His breath was hot against my rear. Saliva dribbled from his maw between my buttocks. His tongue swiped over my anus and I gasped. He licked wet strokes over my balls to my pucker. The sensation was divine. I dropped to my elbows so my face was pressed to the pillow with my butt raised. The dog's tongue pressed against my pucker until it slipped through the ring of muscle. I groaned at the sensations of feeling his flexible organ inside me. Aamon constantly drooled, pushing the slimy fluid around and into my rectum.

When he stopped pleasuring me with his tongue I whined in disappointment – I needed more. Then I felt the weight of his chest against my back. Aamon had mounted me. His front paws grasped around my waist and pulled me backward onto his questing cock.

The bone in his penis speared my drool-slicked sphincter. Abruptly the dog pushed his hips forward. I yelped into the pillow in surprise and some concern as fully 10 inches of dog cock swiftly penetrated me. Surprisingly the dream wasn't painful thanks to plentiful lubrication from earlier licking. I barely registered how much cock impaled me before he pulled his hips back. Suddenly he was pounding his thighs against my butt, fucking me like a jackhammer. Each time he pushed forward his balls slapped against mine. His shaft thickened. I made incoherent huffing sounds into the pillow synchronised to his thrusts. Whenever the tip of his cock pressed over my prostate gland I gasped. Dampness spread on the sheets from my drooling arousal.

As his cock engorged his thrusting changed to shorter hunches. And buried inside me I could feel the knot at the base of his penis growing. Too much, too big, the mass growing inside me was more than I could contain. I panicked in my dream and tried to scrabble away. Surely the monster was going to split me asunder. But Aamon's paws grasped my thighs so his claws left bruised imprints. He forcefully pulled me back, driving his knot deeper.

In fantasies anything is possible. Where I'd been sure his knot has been tearing me in half, suddenly the immense stretching became the apex of pleasure. My panic gave way to awe, gave way to delight, gave way to lust. Then I felt hot squirts of dog semen pumping into me. My dog, my lover, my Aamon was cumming inside me. Each spurt of fluid made his cock throb and expand momentarily. He pressed against my internal organs in unimaginable ways. I was again groaning into the pillow. My consciousness reduced to a bright point of lust. I was profound bliss, being filled with the essence of my dog.

My fantasy dog had chosen not to dismount and turn but to stay dominating overtop. His muscular chest rested against my spine.

Heat radiated out from the fluids inside me. Fire suffused me. Distillation of Aamon flowed through me. My body wasn't just tingling with pleasure, it was actively vibrating with a deep humming thrill. Without even touching my cock I was teetering on the brink of my own orgasm. Each pump of Aamon's cock in my bowels made my own cock jump and pour a river of pre-semen. The dream kept me hovering just a hair's breadth away from achieving my own release, at once maddening and intensely erotic to be held so close to cumming. My mind was entirely focussed on trying to get that last tiny push of stimulation that would allow me the release so tantalizingly close. But my cock bobbed in the air beneath me untouched, unable to cross the threshold of bliss, desperately leaking onto the sheets.

The dog held me right at the edge of release for thirty minutes while he used me for his own pleasure. Then I felt his knot deflating inside me. Just like that: one moment throbbing and stretching me to the absolute tolerance of flesh and the next the pressure eased.

I sobbed into the pillow, No! How could he suddenly be finished? How dare he take me so close to sexual release then be done with me? This nightmare was torment after all. As Aamon's cock deflated so did my own. My peak had remained just out of reach. I was unfulfilled, horny as a stallion but no longer aroused. I may have been weeping in frustration as I expected the session to end.

But Aamon didn't dismount. He held me with his softened cock still inside me. I was prevented from crawling forward, from ending our union. I was a vessel beneath the dog for his flesh and his seed. So I remained subservient until he'd finish using me. Another 20 minutes passed with me panting and weeping into my pillow. I wondered how the nightmare would evolve.

The faintest tingling sensation began inside me. Warmth flowed from the tingling. I startled with realization – Aamon was pissing inside me. With his cock still pushed into me, he was filling my bowels with his urine. What the hell kind of lurid dream was this? The flow increased until I felt liquid filling my colon. And heat radiated from the liquid so I could trace its progress. I should have felt disgust but my body betrayed me and my cock stiffened. It was so perverse. The flow seemed never ending. How could one dog produce so much pee? All the while that delicious warmth flowed with his piss. I was getting a sloshy feeling in my depths. A full load of dog semen and dog piss exceeded my capacity to hold. I was certain to make a mess on the bed if Aamon pulled away. I groaned, bloated with his fluids.

When I was whining with the discomfort of taking so much liquid the flow reduced. With a few last spurts the dog completed filling me with his piss. I desperately clenched my sphincter muscles, expecting Aamon to retract his cock. I despaired I wouldn't contain the mess sufficiently to waddle to the dreamscape bathroom.

I'd managed to raise from my elbows to all fours despite Aamon's weight atop me. I struggled because I could feel myself losing the ability to retain the load of his urine.

But the dog still wasn't finished using me; he wouldn't yet free me. His cock was again growing hard inside me. While he held me motionless I could feel the shaft thickening. The tip pressed against my prostate with a shock of pleasure. As my resolve and my sphincter muscles failed, the dog's knot swelled up to plug any fluids from escaping. His only movement was to shuffle his back paws slightly and pull against my hips to ensure his cock was buried to its full extent.

Once again he stretched me to the bounds of human endurance. His knot must have been larger than my fist. As his cock filled me his earlier fluids had to seep further around my intestines to alleviate the pressure. My internal organs felt they were being rearranged to accommodate so much dog filling me.

Both the perverseness and the physical sensations were overwhelming. A dog had fucked me, pissed into me, and was fucking me again. My penis was aching with need in response. That delicious rhythmic pressing of his cock against my prostate gland as more cum squirted inside brought me close to orgasm.

Aamon panted next to my ear. Hot breath blew across my cheek. Dog slobber ran down the side of my head mixing with my own saliva as we drooled in shared pleasure. Again I was desperately approaching orgasm. My stomach muscles cramped from trying to will myself across the threshold to release.

In my dream Aamon burned with heat like a woodstove. Warmth of his chest against my spine became hot, became fire. It wasn't just heat; it was sexual thrill pouring from the contact of his fur against my flesh. His buried cock suffused liquid heat from my centre outward. Incandescence pressed against my flesh until it seemed his body was sinking into mine. I was absorbing his essence as he was donning my flesh like a cloak. I became the whining cur and Aamon was my master.

My consciousness was reduced to a diamond focus around my cock. I was frantic to orgasm. Through the haze of desperation I felt Aamon shudder mightily. His whole body spasmed, his cock pulsed inside me. Argent fire exploded inside me.

Aamon bit down onto my shoulder.

It should have been pain.

Instead my cock erupted in pleasure. I ground my teeth as orgasm slammed into me. My body was consumed by fire. Aamon's pleasure blended with mine until we were one beast, writhing and ejaculating. Great wads of semen spat from my cock onto the bed. I'd never orgasmed so hard. Wave after wave of pleasure emanating from our conjoined bodies washed over me. As Aamon was pressed against me, into me, around me I could no longer discern where dog ended and man began. Dark tendrils surrounded us, binding us ever closer together. We were panting and trembling in unison, merging into one giant creature of sexual release.

The dream intensity peaked so highly that despite being tied to my dog and orgasming, I sank into blackness.

Chapter 3.

Consciousness came to me the way a swimmer rises from murky depths.

My life before was indistinct. Undefined sensations wavered in a monochrome life of barely glimpsed instants. Time carried me along a repetitive drama of meaningless action. Days, weeks, years of fugue passed where each interval appeared identical to the next.

Until I woke.

The waking was gradual – a slow struggle toward an ethereal beacon. My guide, at first, was simply the smell of a new type of food my companion presented me. The smell and taste of the kibble infused my head. My brain was massaged into awareness of the possibilities around me.

Life took on joy and days became a fun romp along a world of fascinating sights and smells. Time spent with my human was a delight. Something important was happening. I discovered I could track the scent of prey to places behind the world. Previously only the front of the world was available to me. But my new food came from behind the world and the beacon that woke me was lit from behind.

Night-time became my time to chase small quarry in the behind corners of the world.

Normally I'd be content to curl up in the lounge when my human retired to bed. But this night was an imperative I couldn't ignore. I had to be with my human.

His bedroom door was latched. I knew he was the lightest of sleepers – if I'd pawed the door he would have immediately woken, possibly taken me outside, and almost certainly chided me for disturbing him. It occurred to me I could smell my human behind the door. I could track his scent behind the world. Just around the corner was his bedroom.

I moved in the silence of mist that drifted into the room around me. With the utmost care I slowly, oh-so-slowly eased the sheet off my human. He lay on his back on the bed, naked and exposed, deeply unconscious. The scent I tracked emanated from his groin. It drew me in – I breathed in concentrated fragrance of human, drawing closer to the source with my nose. Yes, this was the source of the imperative driving me. I wanted to bury my face in that smell, to roll my body and bathe myself in his scent. I wanted to wear the bouquet of my human all over my body. Instead I touched my cold nose to the underside of his scrotum. The human drew in a sharp breath, perilously close to startling awake. I became a statue, not even daring to breathe until the human again submerged to obliviousness. Each tiny exploration I dared teetered on waking the human. It took so much care, such miniscule nudges and pauses until his sensations blended into his dreams.

I dared to run my tongue over the foreskin covering the head of his penis. The human gasped and I feared I'd woken him. Instead he fell more deeply asleep even as his penis twitched and swelled. A few more licks along his shaft made his cock stand to attention. This made it easier for my tongue to pull his foreskin down and expose the vibrant pink of his glans penis.

With the gentlest of care I engulfed his cock entirely into my muzzle. Memories of puppyhood bubbled up and my tongue recalled how to suckle. The human's cock was deep into my throat so the swallowing motions of my suckling stimulated against the underside of his penis. I could feel his flesh stiffening and throbbing in my maw. He panted and groaned. With a shudder his cock erupted into my throat. I drank his essence down like rich milk. Each swallow drew forth another load of semen from his cock and made the human jerk and squirm on the bed.

At last the man was drained, slipping deeper into placid slumber for the remainder of the night. I was satisfied as well – the imperative driving me sated temporarily. I curled up on the floor at the end of his bed.

In the morning my human was… reinvigorated. When he saw I was in his bedroom he was slightly bewildered. But he immediately dismissed his concern. I wagged my tail, happy to have given him a pleasant night.

As usual he took me out to the garden for my morning pee. Quite pleased with myself I idly followed a prey trail behind the shrubs. When a deer startled from the forest my instincts took over and I latched my jaws onto its neck. In panic the deer leapt backward dragging me around to the front of the shrubs. Despite the deer considerably outweighing me, blind luck brought it down. The deer's antlers caught on a tree and wrenched his head around as he fell from the shrubs.

When my hunting instinct dissipated I was a little bewildered, unsure what to do with my kill. I gnawed on a hind leg until my human called me away.

The creatures from behind retrieved the carcass.

Time passes.

I grew in size and strength. At times my human appeared unsettled, and at other times proud of the dog I'd become. I felt amazing. Every dinner was a feast where I wolfed down huge portions of my new food.

At night when I was certain my human slept I followed his trail behind his bedroom door. I was soundless mist flowing into the room and onto his bed. He barely changed his breathing as the sheets were dragged away. The aroma of him drew me inexorably toward his groin. My mouth watered at the delicious taste of his cock against my tongue. Soon his arousal jutted upward, wet with my saliva.

My human begged for more, muttering in his dreams. Carefully pausing at every movement, I climbed onto the bed to stand over my human. His visage was handsome between my front paws.

As slowly as I was able I lowered my hips. Although it was a tremendous strain on my thighs this was important. This was the imperative spurring my actions. The human's cock tip touched my virgin anus. My legs protested with strain while I paused to ready myself. Despite knowing this was right and necessary, I was momentarily concerned at the imminent penetration. Perhaps I should stop, perhaps I should leave the human unmolested. Wasn't it preferable for my anus to remain virgin?

My thigh muscles collapsed from the strain of hesitating. Any reconsideration became irrelevant. My hips dropped down and the man's erect cock speared past my sphincter. Involuntarily I yipped at the burning pain in my rectum. The human grunted as I sat on him and I feared I'd woken him. Probably he would have stirred had his dreams not suddenly morphed into clenching warmth around his cock. Whatever visions played the theatre of his mind made his cock pulse and twitch inside me.

I allowed my legs a rest to recover their strength. The pause enabled me to become accustomed to the novel sensation of being penetrated anally. Actually, with the dissipation of the burning sensation, the feeling of my human's cock inside me felt pleasurable. I could pause here for a minute or two.

When my legs had recovered somewhat I rocked forward and lifted my hips. All except the tip of the man's cock was exposed before I sat heavily. This time I experienced no burning sensation. Instead I felt his cock head press against something inside me that felt glorious. My own cock peeked from its sheath in response.

I rocked back and forth barely keeping the tip of the man's cock inside me before slipping down to engulf it. Each time his cock jabbed into my prostate clear fluid jetted from my cock to splash against the sleeping man's chest. Arousal stretched my sheath around my growing knot. Who knew having a human cock inside me would feel amazing.

The human grunted and moaned beneath me. His breath came in shorter gasps. Whatever fantasy played in his dreams brought him to his peak. With an abrupt shudder and loud groan the human orgasmed. I felt every spurt of his cum inside me. My prostate was massaged each time his cock pulsed. The sensation was so intense it brought me to orgasm. A long stream of milky semen jetted from my cock and wetted the human's face. Every squirt from my cock made me clench down on the human's cock, milking more cum from him.

We stayed joined; my rectum milking the man's cock while I sprayed his face and chest with my own cum. All the while I could feel him filling me with his seed.

Eventually strength enough returned to my legs to shakily lift myself. The man's softening cock slapped against his pubic mound as I stood. His release dribbled into the dog semen pooling at his abdomen. The human's breathing slowed, carrying him into a deeper slumber. I gently kissed his face clean of my fluids; I licked human and dog semen from his body. As I cleared every trace of our sex from his groin his cock stiffened again.

My legs were too wobbly and I had to collapse at the foot of the bed. I was happy, fulfilled, and full of my human's essence.

In the morning when he let me out to the yard I was joyous. And I could smell prey - something big behind the chill air; a wild boar. It was a fight to get the pig back to the lawn but I was enervated by sex from the night before. I'm afraid I did make rather a mess of the poor beast.

My master came bewildered out to the yard. He called me over and checked me for wounds while the creatures behind took the carcass.

Life goes on.

I flourished.

An imperative was building. There was more 'me' of me, and I needed to gift some of that 'me' to my human. At night I slunk behind his bedroom door and sat on his bed. I licked around and inside my sheath, cleaning with my tongue – it's part of dog hygiene. However, I was horny and my tongue was nicely stimulating along my cock. I pulled my sheath back until my growing knot was exposed. I even suckled a little on my shaft to bring myself close to orgasm. When I stood my cock was swaying from my belly and twitching with need.

I carefully manoeuvred over the sleeping human until the tip of my dangling cock brushed against his lips. The light touch caused a spurt of wetness to splash his mouth. The human's lips parted to lick at the pre-semen. A moment later and the man was suckling my penis. His trance compelled him to lick around the pointed head and suck several inches of my shaft into his mouth. I had already brought myself close to orgasm so I was quickly jetting semen. He drank my essence, swallowing my release as he slumbered. Then he shuddered below me and his own cock squirted onto his belly. It was a treat for me to clean.

Another night and I became adventurous. The human now slept more deeply than he had in the past – perhaps his dreams were providing enough context for our interactions so he wouldn't wake. I pawed at the man under the covers until he rolled near the bed's edge. Then I pawed at his legs so they slipped over the side of the mattress. The man was positioned kneeling against the bed with his chest and head on the bed. The sheets had crumpled to the floor exposing his butt in front of me. I couldn't resist licking at his pucker, coating him with drool.

I placed my front paws on the bed either side of his shoulders so the opening of my sheath was aligned to his butt-hole. The human gasped when I pushed my hips forward, spearing his anus with my penis-bone. But he didn't wake.

I'd never mounted a bitch. I was a virgin dog. But instinct drives us and as soon as my cock was surrounded by warm flesh I couldn't prevent myself from hunching forward. Yes, this is what it means to breed. I humped my hips and fucked the man below. It was probably only ten seconds before my knot had swelled enough to keep my cock locked inside him. I was lost in pleasure, squirting cum in streams. At some point I heard the human grunting and his sphincter clenched tightly around my cock. The snug flesh milked my cock. My partner was cumming beneath me. I bred the bitch, squeezing my pleasure into my mate.

Everything felt completely right. This was fulfilment. I was meant to be tied with my lover.

After a time my knot deflated, my penis receded. I pulled away from the bed and my cock slipped free of the human. A thin line of dog semen ran down his butt crack and over his balls. Sticky wads of human semen puddled on the carpet beneath. More treats for me to clean up.

Getting the man onto the bed took monumental effort. Eventually I managed to push my head under his legs and lift each one. With enough pushing I manoeuvred his body and he rolled to the centre of the bed. I was exhausted by the effort so collapsed at his feet.

With the dawn I remembered our night's passion. I felt immense love for the man I'd just bred. I gave him my friendliest grin and winked. And in response he sent me outside. Not even a hug. Bah.

My mood was buoyed from losing my virginity. I would hunt something big, something challenging. Something that smelled like the oceans behind the sunrise. The trail led to a dark and violent place. Chest-deep surf lashed at me. I plunged my head beneath the waves and clamped my jaws onto a writhing mass. I hauled backward until I felt the morning sun on my flanks. Whatever I'd caught was large and it was strong. I thought it might drag me into the maelstrom. I braced my paws into the lawn and hunched to get more leverage. Abruptly the creature fell through to the light. It grappled me with too many tentacles, fouling my legs. I shrieked when one set of its teeth sank into my shoulder.

Perhaps this quarry was more than I was able to subdue. My struggle became desperate.

A resounding thwack of baseball bat connecting with one of the heads heralded rescue. My lover joined the fray wielding his bat with a mix of skill and blind panic. Together we killed the beast, then trudged toward the patio. Finally my lover gifted me with the hug I deserved. I was a good dog.

Another night, another imperative. More of me needed to be infused into my human. I'd become bigger physically and mentally and I carried more of the other side with me. I had to share with my lover what I'd become.

The human let me out into the yard for my nightly toilet before bed. He failed to notice I neglected to pee despite lifting my leg against a shrub. He called me into the house and I curled up in the lounge. While he dozed I slunk into his boudoir. I again exposed my cock from my sheath, licking myself to hardness. As before I positioned my dangling penis over his mouth so he suckled on the tip. And as before I exploded in intense orgasm, spraying my semen into his throat. He sucked and swallowed every drop of my essence until I was depleted. I stayed overtop him while he nursed on my softening cock.

Pressure built in my bladder. After a few false starts I managed to relax enough to release. Urine dribbled slowly from my cock into the suckling mouth of the sleeping man. Then all at once the trickle became a firehose of piss as I lost control. Relieving myself into a suckling mouth was sexual in its intensity. Beneath me the man was heroically gulping down mouthfuls of my fluids.

The cascade subsided to a trickle and finally I was drained. My lover had drunk my bladder dry. I lay next to him, basking in his company while he slumbered.

But later the man's rest became fitful. I could smell when a few drops of his urine escaped from his flaccid penis. I had thought the man would awaken and go to the bathroom. But he was deeply asleep. Without thinking I clamped my muzzle over his penis and suckled like a puppy. Instantly my mouth was flooded with the taste of piss. I drank his aqua vitae the same way he'd guzzled me earlier. While I was swallowing I could feel warmth radiating outward from my stomach. I was gaining some of the 'him' in exchange for the 'me' I'd gifted him earlier. He pissed until I felt bloated.

In the morning my lover examined the bed in a panic, certain he'd wet the mattress. Meanwhile I was pawing at the door and whining – I urgently needed to go outside to relieve myself. Fortunately the human quickly realized my desperate state and released me to the yard.

Many nights and ever more experimentation… In every way I could imagine I shared myself with my lover. Compulsion drove me to find innovative ways to give and receive love.

Over time I could see the effect our conjoining was having on the human. He was acquiring my vitality. And he appeared pleased with how he'd grown.

At last I felt ready for the final imperative: the climax we desired, the ending of us both.

The man lay slumbering on the bed when I sneaked behind the bedroom door. No, not exactly asleep; dozing, but aware. He was in the half-awake state where dreams and reality mix without a discernible border. He sighed as I trotted into his room. Immediately I could smell his arousal.

Vapours coalesced around the human, helping him rise to his knees on the bed. He presented himself to me like a wanton bitch-dog, in season and awaiting breeding from a stud. I was eager to oblige and pounced onto the bed. The miasma of sexual need cascading from the man had me drooling in anticipation. Gently at first, growing in force, my tongue worked over the man's puckered anus. With a bit more strength my tongue could slip past his sphincter to lick deep into him. Pleasured human gasps counterpointed my wet slurping.

When drool oozed generously over the man's pucker I felt he was adequately prepared for breeding. I swiftly mounted. My front paws grasped around the man's hips as I lifted my chest over his back. I shuffled my rear paws forward and hunched my hips slightly. The questing tip of my penis located its desired target. One thrust pushed the rigid bone of my cock entirely into the slick human orifice.

Since our first mating I had grown somewhat in both length and girth. A muffled cry of surprise came from the man.

Instinct drove me. Immediately my cock penetrated, I involuntarily humped my pelvis forward. The silky flesh around my length was divine when I fully hilted inside my mate. Huffed breaths of the man were indistinct over the smacking of my thighs against his buttocks. My balls slapped into his. As my pleasure built toward orgasm my knot swelled to its full engorgement. Beneath me the human became distressed at the mass growing inside him and tried to escape. But I hauled him backward, shoving my knot as deep as possible. I tied to him, flooding him with semen as orgasm took away coherent thought. Instinct told me I was impregnating a bitch, tied with my inflated knot. Around me warm flesh clenched.

The breeding tie lasted 30 minutes. All that while I was submerged in bliss, squirting jets of semen into my lover. More than just semen; the fluid carried my essence into the man. Distillation of the identity I'd become spurted inside my companion.

At last my breeding pleasure subsided with my knot. For now I was drained of semen. But I was still overflowing with the imperative to share my essence with my slumbering lover. I restrained him, not allowing his escape and kept him impaled on my penis bone.

Another pressure was building inside me. My full bladder needed to be drained. Concentration was required to allow me to relax sufficiently to piss while my cock was still buried in a silky orifice. A few drops of urine trickled. The dribble became a flow until I was freely pissing into the human. I marked his insides as my property. Hot liquid drained into the human, infusing him with essence of 'me'.

Pressure eased in my bladder and the flow stopped. Warmth sloshed around my cock. The human tried to scrabble away while desperately clenching his muscles around my length to prevent leaking. His struggles and muscular contractions were enough to stimulate me to arousal again. My cock thickened and lengthened and my knot grew fat and round. I could feel how fluids yielded to expanding flesh. Urine was forced deeper into the man's bowels. My knot inexorably swelled until the man's clenching muscles could no longer contract. Warm flesh strained around my cock.

Another wave of orgasm was building. The imperative was nearing final climax. The human beneath me whimpered with desperate need. Throughout this ordeal my mate had been denied the ability to achieve his own climax.

My balls drew upward with my building pleasure, preparing another load of my semen. My cock swelled and squeezed a massive jet of cum into the man. Bliss radiated from my abdomen to my brain. Again I washed away in a tide of ecstasy. My cock pumped jet after jet of semen laced with essence of Aamon into the man.

This was greater than mere orgasm. A fire had ignited in my abdomen. I pressed jowls against the human's face, panting with the heat and drooling with the pleasure. I became light, I became flame. Smoky tendrils entwined us, binding and drawing us together.

I bit down on the shoulder of my lover.

His body shuddered massively beneath and around me. It felt as though a fist clenched my knot as the human spasmed. His cock jumped and he sprayed a hose of semen onto the sheets. He uttered a guttural roar. Or the roar may have been mine. His sphincter clenched around my knot, milking cum and pleasure.

The fire inside me grew to an inferno. I was incandescent. Tendrils of steam, or smoke, or corporeal darkness writhed around us. This was the climax. This was the final imperative incarnate. The dark bindings tightened until my flesh fused to his flesh. I could feel the man's pleasure as my own. I overflowed with liquids and lust. I felt the man experiencing my knot stretching him. I felt the human being taken by a dog. I felt so much that I could no longer discern where flesh was dog and flesh was human.

This was the moment my lover and I ended and blackness claimed us.

Chapter 4.

Consciousness came to me the way a swimmer rises from murky depths.

Everything ached, inside and out. I scrabbled from the sullied bed, almost collapsing to the floor. Torn sheets clammy with drying semen tangled my legs.

This was the first time I was truly awake.

I made my way to the bathroom.

A behemoth regarded me from the mirror. A glorious, beautiful, perfect mountain of creature stood eight feet tall. He scrutinised me with glowing cinder eyes as I examined him. Too many teeth were exposed with his mischievous canine grin. Pointed ears, black and mobile, topped his wide cranium. It was the head of a Dobermann dog. Mahogany burnished the muzzle of his otherwise black satin face. Ebony fur swathed most of his body. Rich mahogany patched his broad chest, arms and legs.

The monster's stance was upright, like a man. But he stood on paw pads like a dog's back legs. His thighs were solid and muscular. Ephemeral smoke curled around his feet. An oily miasma of shadows eddied through the room.

He was magnificent as he turned away, looking back over his shoulder to playfully show off his rear. Monsters aren't supposed to have a wagging, stubby tail. A large patch of auburn pelt highlighted the creature's butt-hole. Lustrous mahogany extending half way across taut buttocks surrounded the pucker.

The hybrid slowly turned to face me, allowing me to appreciate the expanse of muscle below his deep chest. Every facet of this monster was glorious beauty. Satin black fur so taut and sleek it could have been velvet stretched over abdominal muscles. Like a dog, this beast had a black sheath against his lower abdomen and a polished scrotum hung beneath. But no mere dog had a sack packed with tennis-ball-sized testicles like this demon. The way the balls swayed and pulled against the monster's groin was hypnotic.

Under my intense scrutiny the monster became aroused. Pink flesh emerged from the opening of his dark sheath. I wondered how it would feel to hold the growing swell in my hand. As I watched the fiend stroked his sheath around a bulge near the base and squeezed. I gasped – electric pleasure arced from my groin. Clear fluid splashed from the tip of the monster's cock. I watched utterly entranced by the bulging sheath in the mirror.

More of the pink length emerged from the sheath. I was in awe – the penis of that monster must have been as thick as my wrist. And the total length of his organ was the same as my forearm. The creature required two hands to enclose and squeeze the bulge of his knot. Each squeeze behind his knot made my hips jerk forward with another surge of bliss. The pleasure was unbearable and I had to close my eyes. I barely heard the wet splat. When I opened my eyes the mirror was coated in milky semen. The creature was grimacing while he orgasmed, spraying pearly jets of liquid against the glass. The fluid streamed down the mirror to puddle on the bathroom tiles. I had never cum so hard and for so long. I had never produced so great a volume of semen.

The demon's tongue lolled from his panting maw in ecstasy.

At last I retreated from the mirror and the behemoth turned away.

It would take some time become acquainted with this new body. Man and dog were gone. Something more stood in their place. Two halves of my previous self amalgamated to become the one true Me. I remembered being human. I remembered being dog. But I had transformed to something greater.

I retained the name 'Aamon'. It was suitable for the Demon of Life and Love I'd become.

As a hybrid of human and dog I could hunt in the dark places behind the world. I found other demons who showed me how to access the moments between moments. They taught me to leap from behind the world, past frozen lives and then return to the dark. We could move through the realms, barely glimpsed, jumping between shadows.

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