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Good Dog

By Ajax B. Coriander

Started: 11/28/2021

Finished: 09/17/2022

==

Tristan struggled against his bonds, the young doberman growling into the ball gag in his muzzle. He'd been walking home from practice when he'd felt something jab him in the back of the neck, and now he was here.

Whenever he found out what little faggot had done this to him, he'd make them pay. What was even the point of all of this? He couldn't see, he had something on his head, he could feel the weight of it and the straps. But he couldn't gauge what it was.

He was on his feet, but he had straps around his ankles, chest, wrists, and neck. He couldn't do more than flex in his bonds. There was also something inserted into his ears that felt like earbuds - but he couldn't be sure. He heard a door open, and footsteps come towards him. The Doberman's pointed ears moved towards the sound, and he growled into his gag. He began to shout in it to be let out, but his words never really formed.

Tristan felt a paw reach out and touch his chest, and that's when he realized: he was naked. Not a single strip of clothing remained on his body. The dog shuddered, and was about to shout more expletives into the gag but then something happened. The space in front of his eyes lit up with a bright white light, and his eyes stung as it adjusted to see the blocky black text on the screen:

Good Dog

"The fuck?" The dog mumbled in the gag. The screen began to change, it turned a dark red, and then began to swirl with colors. They moved slow at first, but they began to move faster as he watched them constantly morph and change.

He could feel the paws rubbing over his muscular chest now, sliding down over his pecs, and over his muscular abs all while the lights moved and flashed on the screen in front of him. He thrashed against his bonds, wanting to beat the shit out of whoever the fuck was doing this, and get away from here. The lights were starting to make his head hurt. But still, he was forced to stare at them. It seemed to be some kind of VR headset, he would move his head to the side, and the colors would distort and make him sick. The restraints kept his head still and made him look directly at the center of that swirling vortex. He kept seeing something flash in the corners of the screen and vanish. He couldn't make out what they were.

Tristan felt the unknown paws start to slowly slide up his legs, those teasing fingers carefully ruffling his fur as it felt along the muscles there. Squeezing as the Doberman's legs tensed, and the muscles bunched up like hardened steal.

The dog swore he could see words in the vortex too, he'd try to turn his head to read them, but they'd vanish before he could. His heart raced, and he was finding it hard to think. For the first time he was starting to feel afraid.

"It's okay," said a calming voice in his ear. He flicked his ears, trying to get the earbuds out, but they stayed in place. "Just relax, you're a good dog." The calming voice eased.

"You're a good dog."

"You're a dog who does what he's told."

"You're a dog that obeys."

"You love being a good boy."

The words began to repeat, and Tristan whimpered. What was this? Why was it saying those things? The fondling hands had moved to his thighs and were currently stroking them as the lights changed and started to pulse as well as swirl. The dog started to make out what was in the flashes. They were 3D models of a doberman dogs like him... The first few he noticed were tame. The dog was standing and flexing for someone - wearing nothing but a thong. But as he started to notice them more, the details began to snap into place.

There was one of dog on a leash getting it pulled back as some large bear drove his dick into him, the dog looking in pure extasy as his ass was taken. Another showed the dog tied under a desk, sucking off some unseen businessman above him. There were even more graphic ones, like the closeup of the Doberman's ass being filled with a thick horse cock, those heavy balls slapping against his own as that thick dick stretched open his ring.

"See those?" The voice changed as if knowing he could make out the figures now. "That's what good dog's do, and you're a good dog, aren't you?"

"Good dogs lift their tail."

"Good dogs open their muzzle."

"Good dogs do as they're told."

"You want to be a good dog."

Tristan whimpered. The paws had moved to his chest were now rubbing over his pecs, and teasing the pink nipples that capped them.

"Good dogs don't fight back."

"Good dogs listen."

"Good dogs only bark, whimper, and whine..."

The doberman whimpered into the gag now. The images kept flashing, becoming clearer now. The point of view changed too... suddenly he was looking through the eyes of the other doberman. He was sucking the dick of the big bull in the business suit. He was flexing on stage in his thong for the men in the shadows. He was bent over with that bear fucking him from behind. His head had more movement now, but he didn't notice. He leaned to look down between his legs and he saw his dick between his thighs... it was trapped in some metal cage, so small and tiny, while the big manly bear's balls slammed against his needy orbs.

He yanked his head back and shook his head from side to side, trying to throw off the horrible device.

"Bad dog," the voice said, in a harsher tone now. "Bad dog's get punished..."

The colors began to change, darken, flashes of lightening combined with the sound of thunder entered in his ears - making him yowl like a puppy. The images changed now, the doberman was strapped over a desk, his ass getting slapped with a paddle. Another showed the dog's caged junk being dipped in ice water. There were ones of the dog getting his nipple's clamped, his balls beaten, his fur shaved off... awful things written across him, the dog being taken through a walk in public nothing but the leather collar and cage on him.

"But you don't want to be a bad dog, do you?" The voice asked, and Tristan shook his head no.

"Good. Now remember."

"Good dogs lift their tail."

"Good dogs open their muzzle."

"Good dogs do as they're told."

"Good dogs don't think."

"Good dogs are always horny."

"Good dogs don't worry."

"Good dogs have empty pretty heads..."

"You want to be a good dog."

The horror went away and the images went back to normal. The dog's heart slowed as the images of the good dog returned. He looked seeing through the good dog's eyes. It was so great seeing a dog be a good boy like him. He felt a hand wrap around his cock, and he gasped. He could feel the cold lube the second it made contact with his bare flesh... he hadn't realized he was hard. But good dogs were always horny, so it didn't matter. He felt that paw start to stroke his hard cock and he bucked his hips the best he could.

"Good dogs get rewards..."

"Good dogs get treats..."

"Good dogs get to be good boys..."

The voice in his ears said as the images changed once again. The doberman was on his knees, paws cupped, a group of stallion jacking off their thick cocks all around him one by one coming into his cupped paws. He greedily drank it up after each load, licking his paws clean and leaving a smeared trailed of cum on his face.

Another image showed the bear from before pounding the Doberman's hole, cum spurting from his cage and across his toned belly while the bear filled him with cum.

The doberman holding his muzzle open to show it filled with cum for the bull in the business suit.

Finally, a doberman strapped to a table, his cock being stroked just like what was happening to his shaft, a chastity cage on a table beside him.

"Good dogs only cum when they're told."

The voice said as the shaft stroked him with practiced skill, teasing his knot, making him whimper and whine in the unseen captor's grasp. He could feel himself getting close, but the images of bad dogs would flash before his eyes, and he'd always pull back.

_He was a good dog.

He was a good dumb dog.

He was... good doggy._

He whimpered and he began to pant, and his eyes went wide as he felt something new. There was something rubbing against the tip of his shaft, and his eyes went wide as he felt something warm and tight begin to slip over it. That tight warm slick passage engulfing his virgin prick, and he began to whimper. Fear spiking in him. But then the voice came on again.

"Good dogs obey."

"Good dogs let their masters do what they want."

"Good dogs only cum when they are told."

Tristan panted, and he felt himself calm down.

He did what he was told.

He let his master do what they want.

He was a good dog.

Good dogs let whatever happens to them happen.

He felt that wonderful tight hole squeezing down on his cock as what felt like a rump pounded into his crotch. He struggled in his bonds.

The scenes before him flashed faster now, he swore he could taste the cum or feel his rump being stretched open as they singled with those swirling lights. He could feel his knot throbbing, near the peek of release as that wonderful rump popped on and off it, making him whimper and whine, drool running down his chin as he screamed into his gag, wanted to beg to cum but knowing good boys only came when they're told. He whimpered, his legs quivering as that unseen man used him. Then it happened.

"Good dog," the voice whispered. "You're a good mindless dog. A dog who does what he's told. A dog who doesn't think. A dog who lifts his tail or uses his cock for his master. Does doggy want a treat?" The voice asked.

The dog nodded and barked into his gag, whimpering, whining, pleading with a voice that could not see him.

"Then on the count of 3, cum puppy. Cum out every ounce of that bad boy you once were and be the good dog you were meant to be. Forget all those silly thoughts about being a person, you're a good dog and that's all you need to be."

"One, good puppies obey."

Tristan panted whimpering, his knot swelling painfully hard as that skilled ass somehow managed to pop on and off of him like he was knot fucking them.

"Two, good dogs don't think."

The young muscular dog's entire body felt tense, he felt like he was holding back a raging storm inside of him. He whimpered, his big balls pulling up painfully tight against his body as he prepared his load.

"Three, good dogs only cum when they're told... cum puppy."

The dog howled at the top of his lungs into that gag, and he shot the biggest load of his life. Shot after shot pumping itself into the unseen person's ass, every ounce of everything he was disappearing with those shots of jizz, leaving only the good dog behind...

He was dazed, stars flashing in front of his eyes as he felt that amazing warmth leave his dick, and he felt something prod his muzzle. Without thinking- good dogs don't think- he opened his muzzle and a dick was slammed past his lips. He gagged, but he started to suckle as it thrust in and out of his muzzle, before finally he felt a canine knot slam against his lips and he got the wonderful taste of cum splashing across his tongue for the first time. He moaned, and the visor began to dim.

"Good dog," flashing across the screen before it went black.

==

Jasper panted as he wiped his dick off on the Doberman's chest. The fox stretched as he crawled off the young man. At one point he'd adjusted the table so he could ride his dick easier, the younger canine was now laying on his back. The middle-aged slender fox had engaged the sleep protocol, and he walked over to the desk in the his cold laboratory. He picked up a voice recorder and began to talk into it.

"Mind alteration test 006 proceeded better than expected. Full control was introduced in a matter of hours rather than days. The program will need to some fine tuning, but I could speed up product processing by 150% if done correctly. A loyalty test will need to be done, and the subject will need to be monitored for relapses, but the training seems to be sinking in..."

==

Tristan was led by a leash into the club, the music was loud, and he was naked - but that didn't bother him, good dogs didn't wear clothes. The black leather harness clung tightly to his body, it had been crafted just for him by his master. He could see all the people in the club looking around, chatting, and partying. If he had to describe the place in one word, it would have been: generic.

There was a bar, a dance floor, music that was too loud, and furniture that looked too weird to be comfortable. But he didn't care, he was just here for his master. The dog's nub tail happily wagged as he was lead through the club, but then the unthinkable happened, his leash came unclicked, and he was separated by the crowd from his owner. He tried to bark and get his attention, but the man was out of sight. He tried to scan the sea of faces for him, but they made his head hurt if he tried to focus on them for too long.

He started to push his way through the crowd, trying to find the man who owned him, he didn't like being alone like this.

Good dogs needed their master.

Good dogs weren't left alone.

Good dogs weren't free.

He pushed his way up to the bar, hoping his master might be there, and that's when he spotted it. A simple iPhone just laying in front of him. He looked to the left, and he looked to the right - there was no one around, it was just him and the phone.

Something twinged inside of him... this was his chance, he could just pick up this phone, call 911 and be free. His fingers shook as they reached for it, and he pressed the home button, to his shock there wasn't a passcode locking it. He whimpered and his fingers pulled back for a moment... he was a good dog... good dogs don't do this, but... but he wanted to be a real boy again. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be free. He snatched the phone and dialed 911.

==

The German shepherd standing before him was in his late 40s, and he had an annoyed look behind his dark sunglasses.

"Yeah right, some secret kabbala kidnapped you and trained you to be someone's bitch, likely story. What's the matter, got tired of daddy's dick and just wanted a quick ride home?" The older dog snarled, his dark blue uniform looking intimidating at night. "Well bitch... you look like a lost dog to me, and you know what happens to lost dogs, right?" The officer asked, a smile on his face.

"N-no Sir! I'm not making it up, really my name is Tristan... it's Tristan..." The dog paused. What was his last name? What had it been before all of this? He couldn't remember. His head hurt. He looked around the alley where he was standing. He was still naked, nothing but his collar, harness, and chastity cage between him and the outside world.

How had he gotten here? Wasn't he just in the club? When did the officer get here.

"I don't think so, that's not what your collar says, boy." The officer said as he pointed at the bone shaped tag hanging from the young lad's neck. "It says Bitch." The older dog said as he moved in and grabbed the younger dog roughly by the collar, and pulled him in. He looked at the tag and clicked his tongue. "Mmm no address on the collar... you know, I'm starting to think you didn't get tired of your Master. I think he got tired of you. You know what that makes you, right?" The dog said and an evil grin on his muzzle. "A stray..."

"No! I'm not! I have a master, please, he's inside... I just want to go home... I want to go back to..." The dog tried to remember his old address, but couldn't. That's not what came to his mind as he thought of home. He just remembered being in his master's lap, where he felt safe and sound. Where he belonged. "Please! Let me go, Sir..." The dog whimpered.

"Too late dog, I'm not going to let a stray... ownerless and alone out on the street. You could bite someone, no, you're coming back to the pound with me." The German Shepherd said as he yanked the younger dog forward, he tried to fight back, but he wasn't able to. The officer hit a button on his keyfob and the trunk opened. "I'd put you in the back, but that's for people... dog's ride in the trunk."

"No... no, please!" The dog struggled. The much stronger officer forced him into the trunk, and then the dog's eyes went wide as he saw the arche of a taser and everything went black.

==

Tristan's head hurt as he slowly came too. He opened his eyes and he could only see a plain grey cinderblock wall before him. He tried to move his head, but he found he couldn't, it was strapped down. He moved his eyes, and he could see steel bars on either side of his head. His brow furrowed and he tried to move, but he couldn't. He was strapped down onto his belly onto some kind of table, he could feel his arms and legs strapped to the table's own legs. His junk was hanging off the edge of the tabletop, his heavy metal cage weighing it down. He whimpered, he tried to speak, but he noticed the o-ring gag in his muzzle. He could taste the cold steal.

"Alright killer, you're going in the tank..." A voice said from behind Tristan. It sounded familiar. He heard a heavy door slide open, and then he saw a large bear come into view. He was wearing a white wife beater and a pair of tattered jeans. He smelled of booze even from here. "Feel free to enjoy the new facilities before sleeping it off..."

The bear turned towards the bound doberman, and he grinned. "Oooh, ya'll got a new police dog..."

"Yeah, we retired the old one, and we found this stray. Sarge figured it would be best to just keep the bitch rather than put it down, old Fido had been getting kind of loose anyway. This one looks nice and tight though," the cop said as he walked around behind the doberman, his hand resting on the boy's well toned ass. "Dumb mutt, claims he had an owner and everything, he should have stayed with him, maybe he wouldn't be a bitch for drunks like you and officers whose wives don't put out enough."

The bear unzipped his fly, and fished out his dick... it was already starting to rise and was easily as thick as a beer can. The young dog whimpered, and he shook against his bonds. No. No. No! He wasn't a stray, he had an owner. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be in the pound. He shouldn't be here! The dog whined and the bear laughed.

"Wow, he's already begging for it..." The bear said as he walked in front of the bars, and he started to rub the tip of his slimy dick against the dog's nose. The dog was forced to inhale his wonderfully manly scent. The bear guided his dick down, and slipped it into his muzzle. He could taste that musky flavor roll across his tongue, and he gagged as the bear thrusted forward and buried his whole cock inside of him in one go. The bear wrapped his fingers around the bar, and held on as he began to throat fuck that dog's muzzle.

"Don't go easy now, we can always find another if you break him," the voice teased. Then Tristan realized where he'd heard it, it was the officer from before. He could feel the dog start to slide his fingers between his cheeks, and he felt a finger slip inside of him. The doberman shuddered, and whimpered around the drunk bear's cock. The bear's sack was pounding against his chin while the officer molested him, he felt his molester's finger slide out and he felt the tip of a pointed dog cock press against his slick hole. He whimpered, and he gagged around that bear's dick as the officer's cock was thrust inside of him. "Mmm he's so tight now, better use him now before the guys get their hands on him..."

"Careful, if you fuck him too hard we might meet in the middle," the big bear teased.

"It'll be a few months before he's that worn out... Stupid mutt, if he'd really had a Master, he should have tried harder to get back to him, maybe he wouldn't be sucking some old drunk's dick right now as a cop fucked him up the ass," the shepherd said with a grunt. The dog reached under and fondled the caged cock pulsing between the young dog's legs. "Too bad we don't have the keys for this either, oh well, poor dog will just never get to cum I guess. He was a bad dog anyway, this is what happens to bad dogs who get lost, they end up in the pound."

The dog's ears folded back in shame... it was true, he was a bad dog, a very bad dog... he whimpered around that bear's big dick, his throat sore as it found its way into depths he didn't know he had. He'd sputter and gag with every thrust. Tears ran down the young Doberman's face. He just wanted to be home. He wanted to be safe at home with is master. He could feel the cop's knot starting to form, and he could feel it spreading him open farther than he ever thought possible as it pounded in and out of him. He felt the dog's weight lay across his back, and he felt a knee to his pent-up blue balls. He yowled out in pain, and he cried harder as he was taken from both ends.

The older dog nuzzled at Tristan's ear and whispered.

"Bad dogs get punished."

"Bad dogs end up in the pound."

"Bad dogs don't get to cum."

"Good dogs don't need anyone but their master."

"Good dogs know their home is with master."

"Good dogs don't try to run away."

Tristan knew the man's words were true. They had always been true. He wished he'd never picked up that phone. He felt the officer give one last thrust and tie with his ass, hot cum rushing into his guts as the bear's cum started to roll across his tongue and pump down his throat. He could feel those heavy balls against his chin, pulsing and unloading as his nose was pressed deep into that crotch fluff. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his master... He felt dizzy and the world went blank.

White lettering lit up his black world.

"Simulation 1: failed"

"Punishment executed."

"Resuming from last restore point..."

==

Tristan started to push his way through the crowd, trying to find the man who owned him, he didn't like being alone like this.

_Good dogs needed their master.

Good dogs weren't left alone.

Good dogs weren't free._

He pushed his way up to the bar, hoping his master might be there, and that's when he spotted it. A simple iPhone just lying in front of him. He looked to the left, and he looked to the right - there was no one around, it was just him and the phone.

He reached for it and recoiled in horror. Memories shot through his mind, and he felt the taste of stale bear cum splash across his tongue. He could feel the pain of a knotted cock being forced into his ass, and he shuddered.

"Good dogs know their home is with master..."